#the secret ingredient HAS to be crack

[nbnaruto]

For the older grayson brother danny au, realistically Danny would meet all of Dick's younger siblings gradually but the idea all of them meeting him all at once is so funny to me. Even better if none of them knew Dick had an older brother (and 2 older sisters), Dick just mentions he can't hang out with one of them in the gc because he's hanging out with his older brother and all the batkids are like "wtf are you talking about?" Dick swears he's mentioned Danny (and jazz and ellie) at least once but all of them swear they've never heard those names before. Cue the meeting, they've decided to meet at Mcdonald's or sumn and right before they get to the mcdonalds Dick stresses that they should be on their best behaviour cuz Danny and Co aren't from Gotham and they are Normal Civilians TM, they turn the corner and see McDonalds is getting robbed, they rush in to find Danny beating the shit out of the thief with a napkin holder like outta that scene in shameless, Jazz is getting a first aid kit ready and Ellie is cheering in the background

#this is a crack au so i can say what i want :) #dp x dc #danny phantom #i dont think Danny could keep the whole ghost thing also ellie is my clone thing secret esp from Dick who is nosey as hell but its funny #also the thought of 18yr old Danny flying around with 14yr old Dick on his shoulders is incredibly endearing to me #BUT Dick thinking Danny and the rest of the fentons are freaks but like normal freaks is also incredibly funny #Danny shows 12yr old Dick how to make a bazooka with ingredients you find in any normal household #dick who is 12 and has been a vigilante since he was 9 is just like wow :D coolest brother ever and doesnt think twice #its also funny if Danny was alluded to for years but because of assumptions nobody even knew about it #dick says sorry i got to help my brother with something in front of one of the batkids and they assume hes talking about one of them #or using them as an excuse to get out of something #in reality Danny wanted to hang out with his lil bro so he convinced dick he needs help building a functional rocket or sumn #older grayson bro au #mine

[musubiki]

recently thinking about the concept of a new npc/semi-cryptid healer character: a little (REALLY little) old lady who rides around on a giant animal (boar or something) whose....family(??) has a long history of healing talents through accupuncture, herbal remedies, pressure points, chiropractic things, etc.

the family line/line of practice has a history of very long life BECAUSE of the healing practices, so this little old lady is maybe...150? 170? years old??? shed be the healer the guild goes to, since her remedies are BETTER than mochis magic AND limes tech junk, she can help any one of them without problem

but the odd thing about her is that shes NOT a witch, weirdly. her healing is 100% natural, which means it works on those with high magic res, since it has nothing to do with magic.

i also think the family history would have this weird relationship with witches, where theyre willing to heal them (for a price of course), but they absolutely REFUSE to give their secrets to any witch. "You'll just make it better and put us out of a job." they always say, so even mochi doesnt know what the hell is in that soup shes eating, all she knows is that its capable of instantly restoring 90% of her magic (5 day cooldown before she can drink it again though, lest she die)

#she either has a shop set up in a place easily teleported to OR she travels around like the merchant #though i think the teleport point makes more sense if you need to easily access her #becuase shes technically a human she doesnt pop up everywhere and anywhere like the merchant #(the secret is in the knowledge and ingredients) she says while cracking limes neck and somehow it fixes his sore foot #the insane old lady character #also the small(tm) character like robbie from totk or the grandma from ranma #her name is madam springs #(like hot springs!) she says (cuz i can heal you with a touch!) and then paralyzes you #do you think shed know certain pressure points like in atla where she can stop you from using magic #another reason to do magic commissions so you can buy these insane healing products #mochi: (looking at thing in bottle) its a potion? #madam springs: what?? no!! none of that magic junk. its called the hibbie-jibbie-remover. my own personal invention. #madam springs: takes away all stress in 2 minutes guarenteed!! #lime slowly takes the bottle away from mochi (i dont like that name.) he says #one thing about all the cryptids is that they all have a no-fighting policy within their vicinities #since multiple witches and magic creatures go to them. if you see another witch you have a beef with while youre there you gotta fight late #they dont let that shit slide

[shadowcurrydon]

tag dump.

#to dust or to gold || ooc #come get some hot stuff! || muse: mick #the don || muse: ken doi #irasshai! || asks #welcome to the shadows || anon #simple || aesthetics & musings: ken doi #dr. pin sr. || headcanons: ken doi #the trends are mine to command || aesthetics & musings: mick #what’s important is the presentation || headcanons: mick #f this ramen || crack #th-this isn’t in the manual! || dash commentary #reaper creeper || memes #spicy curry don || post-neo verse #love has always been the world's best secret ingredient || food

[steddielations]

Steve walks into utter chaos.

He was stopping by just to see Max, but all the increasingly concerning noise coming from the Munson’s trailer drew him over there instead. Worried that all the cursing and clattering would drown out any chance of a knock being heard, Steve lets himself in. 

Eddie doesn’t even notice him come inside, too busy scrambling around the complete wreck of a kitchen.

“Dude, are you cooking or just banging pots and pans together? I thought you were dying in here.”

Eddie squawks and jumps about a foot in the air. His hair is even more disheveled than usual, barely tied down with a bandana. He’s got flour splotches on his face and all over the frilly grandma apron he’s wearing (which Steve is definitely getting a photo of and showing Dustin later) along with a suspiciously sticky goo on his fingers.

“Stop laughing at me,” Eddie groans. 

“I’m not laughing,” Steve laughs, going to join him in the kitchen, “What are you doing, man?” 

“Well, I’m trying to bake Wayne a cake, but at this point, I might as well give him a frosting covered rock for his birthday,” Eddie sighs, frustrated hands scrubbing the flour off his apron, “I don’t know, man, usually I just get him another mug and a pack of smokes, and he’s never asked me for anything, but I’ve put him through hell this year I just wanted— I don’t know like, to do something special but I can’t even—”

“Alright, take it off.”

Steve folds his arms and waits while Eddie just gawks at him for a moment, cheeks reddening under the patches of flour.

“What?”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Eddie scoffs, starts muttering like he does when he’s nervous and Steve cracks a smile when he realizes why.

“The apron, Eddie,” he gestures, “Hand it over.” 

Another moment of confused staring and Eddie slowly gives it to him.

Steve wastes no time shaking out the flour and tying it around himself. He moves past Eddie, gets right to work clearing the mess and salvaging what ingredients he can.

“You…” Eddie peeks over Steve’s shoulder, “You know how to bake?”

“I can make a cake,” Steve shrugs, “Robin obsesses over shit sometimes, calls them her “little brain worms” or whatever. She couldn’t stop thinking about this cake she swore she had for her 5th birthday but couldn’t remember the flavor. So we made every cake recipe in her mom’s cookbook until we found the right one.”

“So Harrington’s got a secret Betty Crocker power-up, impressive.”

“Nah, just small stuff. I help Claudia with Dustin’s birthday cakes. Little shit is very particular about his red velvet.” 

Eddie snorts and Steve waves him over to start washing the dishes. He does so with a small salute that smears more flour on his forehead. The word cute comes to Steve’s mind but he just rolls his eyes. 

“So you dusted off your oven mitts for little old me, hm? I’m flattered.”

“Only because I like Wayne and I’d prefer if you didn’t give him food poisoning,” Steve teases, dumping out Eddie’s abomination of batter into the trash. Though he softens when he sees the way Eddie winces at it. “And I think it’s nice, you know, you doing this for him. I wanna help.”

Eddie clearly holds back a smile, looking down at the bubbles in the sink, and the cute word comes back to Steve’s mind.

“Okay well, take it easy on me. Not everyone has a bunch of mom friends teaching them to bake.” 

“Oh yeah, then where’d you get this grandma apron? You just had this little number in the closet with your leather and chains?”

“No, it’s Mrs. Bennet’s and she’s not my friend,” Eddie bristles and Steve senses a hell of a backstory there, “I stole it off her clothesline.” 

Steve laughs and makes Eddie tell him the whole story, all the inner workings of Forest Hills feuds. It’s nice, Steve’s been spending more time here since everything, listening to Eddie’s stories and sharing his own. It’s easy to be around Eddie, even though that pesky word won’t get out of Steve’s head.

Once the batter is finished, Steve dips a finger in to test.

“How does it taste?” Eddie asks, “Better than mine I hope.”

Steve hums around his finger, “So good, here taste,” he meant to slide Eddie the bowl, but the wires must’ve gotten crossed somewhere, because now he’s holding out a dollop of cake batter on the tip of his finger to Eddie’s mouth. 

They both look down at it, then at each other again. Steve knows he should apologize, drop his hand and say it was a mistake but there’s something about the way Eddie’s looking at him, the way he subtly licks his lips is almost like— He wants this. 

So Steve lets him have it.

Eddie leans in, keeps his hands at his sides and slowly guides himself down on Steve’s finger. His eyes fall shut as his mouth closes around it, like it’s too much, watching Steve watching him. It’s a lot for Steve too, the wet warmth of Eddie’s mouth, one swirl of his tongue almost makes Steve’s knees buckle. 

Something comes over him, he presses his finger down just slightly, feeling Eddie’s tongue curl around the tip. It elicits a soft noise from Eddie that sends heat thrumming all through Steve. Eddie’s eyes flutter open, brows turned upwards and mouth in a plush little O around Steve’s finger, looking up at him through dark lashes, a dot of flour on his nose. The sight makes Steve’s breath catch in his throat. It’s fucking cute and hot.

Steve has to swallow his own noise when Eddie pulls off. 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, a slight grin on his lips, “Really good.” 

Steve’s about to do something crazy, put his finger back in Eddie’s mouth, maybe more than one this time, or just his lips on Eddie's, maybe even slip his tongue inside instead of his fingers, lick all that sweetness away until he just tastes Eddie, something— but a sudden loud knock on the door has him dropping his hand like it’s made of cement.

It’s Max, wanting to know why Steve ditched her for Eddie. She comes inside to ‘help’ which means she leans against the counter, talks about her day, complains, teases Steve and makes fun of Eddie for being demoted to dish duty. 

Steve puts the cake in the oven and focuses on cleaning and composing himself. He can feel Eddie trying to meet his gaze, trying to see if Steve's going to freak out on him after that. Once Steve can look at him without feeling like he’s going to burst into flames, he gives Eddie a small reassuring smile, even throws him a wink when Max isn’t looking. Eddie gives him a smile back.

And later, after Wayne comes home and they sing happy birthday and eat the cake that Steve insists Eddie helped him with— Just the tasting part, Steve says and revels in how Eddie covers a blush with his hair— and after they walk Max home, Steve pulls Eddie behind the trailer and kisses him until he doesn’t taste like cake anymore.

for the prompts "You heard me. Take. It. Off." and "Stop laughing at me" for @highkingpenny and anon, thank you and I hope you enjoy this!!

#behave boys taste testing is a Very Important job #steddie #steddie ficlet #rueswriting #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fluff

[babyyoda234]

Tea Time with Alfred

Context: Alfred has always been a close family friend of your Grandma. After her death both of you haven't been dealing with the grief very well, so you decide to start hanging out more to ease the pain. (Y/G/N: your grandma’s name)

Knocking on the door to Wayne Manor, I fumble with the basket of muffins in my left hand. A very confused Jason opens the door.

"Look Y/N..." He begins awkwardly shifting his balance. Guilt spreads across his sculpted features.

"With love, I'm not here for you." I interrupt putting my hand up to silence him, "Whatever you have to say, save it for another time."

Brushing past him, I wander down the hallway past a dozen or so portraits of the Wayne family. With the high ceilings and shelves filled with books older than my great Grandma, I narrowly get lost in the grandeur. One of the glass shelves catches my attention. A much younger looking Alfred beams up at me while a soaked brunette angrily swats at his shoulder with a shoe. My heart contracts when I recognize the woman. Years before she got sick, Y/G/N was radiant. Although the photo is in black and white, I know for certain she is wearing her faithful orange sweater that was in rags by the time I came around. The photo reads: Alfred's revenge London 1965. My eyes well up with tears at the thought of her being so healthy. The image of how frail she looked in that hospice bed will forever be burned in my heart.

The next photo over shows Alfred, Grandma, and I at my first visit to Gotham. Freshly nine, Gotham was such an adventure. Driving into the city was... nothing short of magical. There may have been crime in every corner, but her stories brought much needed light into the city. My 9 year old self hadn't yet grown into herself. With cracked glasses I had broken moments prior and aggressively neon braces, my fashion had a long way to go. I was probably too big to go on Alfred's shoulders at that point, but he picked me up anyway for the walk around the city. The crowded boardwalk behind us sold the best deep fried oreos in Gotham city. A teenager at the time, Dick had convinced me that the secret ingredient was cocaine... As an adult looking at Gotham city, that joke may not be too far off.

The infamous smell of Alfred's baking grounds me to the present. Dickie isn't stealing my gameboy anymore. He's happily living in Bludhaven revamping their police force. Shit, I really need to call him back. How do you tell someone that if you talk about it there is no guarantee that the crying will ever stop?

It doesn't matter what he’s been saying. It's better to not burden him with this. I take a deep breath to avoid a breakdown. Cookies. Tea time. Glancing at my watch, I realize I'm five minutes late. Classic y/n.

Alfred's back is to me when I finally stumble into the kitchen. A mischievous grin emerges on my face as I creep closer making a conscious effort to silence my footsteps. Jason used to say that watching the two of us sneak up on each other was like watching a cheetah stalking its prey. Of course, Alfred always made it look so easy though. Halfway there....

Stirring a bowl of brownie batter by hand, he calls out to me.

"You've got to do a lot better than that if you want to sneak up on me."

I stifle a laugh throwing my hands up in surrender.

"Sorry Alfie.... Old habits die hard. You would not believe what happened to me today..."

Conversing with the older man fills a void, I have been missing. Telling him about life made everything less scary. If I can spin these horrifying events into a joke during tea time.. well I guess I can survive it.

Alfred isn't one to diverge intense grief, yet I will never forget how heartbroken he was when he explained how painful it was to talk to me. Although our features may be completely different, it was the mannerisms that hurt the most to see: the way I held my hands when I was nervous, the anxious laughter in stressful situations, the silly regency romance novels that sat on my bedside table, the intense hatred of the barren winter... My entire being has been shrouded by her love. For better or worse.

The first couple months, I could almost pretend she wasn't gone. Working two jobs while attending school doesn't give me much time to reflect. However, the holidays left an unspoken hollow void. The empty seat at dinner. The contact I would instinctively dial. The horrible sinking in my chest when I remembered the phone would ring forever.

At the beginning, I think we both pretended we were talking to her. Now as I cackle over his photo collection of Tim falling asleep in public places, I realize how much I love the man who was so important to her. This pain may always stay with me, but what is grief if not love persevering?

#batfamily #alfred pennyworth #batfamily fluff #dc x reader #batfamily x reader #red hood x reader #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne #batman #dc comics #batbros #batfam #dick grayson #nightwing x reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake #red robin #red hood #grief #dealing with grief #loss #grief/mourning #things will get better #Alfredxgrandaughter reader

[benkeibear]

⋆꙳✧༄ Of cookies and love

❖ Character: Taiju

❖ Reader: female | AFAB

❖ Wordcount: 1.9k

❖ Summary: Baking cookies didn't go as intended but Taiju does not give up to make sure you feel loved

❖ WARNINGS: cursing, Taiju getting frustrated, abuse of cookie dough, pet names, fingering, penetrative sex, creampie, soft aftercare, overall gentle Taiju.

❖ A/n: this is my Secret Santa ( @enchantedforest-network) for my Dessy bear @linpunny ! I hope you find some comfort in it and it makes a smile appear on your cute face. Merry Christmas my dear 🫶 and a big thank you to @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi for proof reading this!

Unlocking the door to your apartment you didn't expect to be greeted by the light being on and the smell of something burning. Panic immediately rose up in your body, the door falling shut louder than intended. “Ah shit!” You heard your beloved husband scream from the kitchen, an unknown noise following, almost sounding like a thud - did he beat someone up?

With a worried expression you hurried to the kitchen to find Taiju standing there, flour all over his shirt and hair as he raked his dirty hand through his bicolored hair. “What are you doing at home, doll? Didn't you say you'd be late?” He barked but his angry gaze immediately softened as did his voice “I didn't mean to be angry at you,” he mumbled almost sheepishly but stepped in front of you so you couldn't get into the kitchen.

Trying to lurk past his impressive frame you stood on your tippy toes but were met with his hard chest and a little grin on his face, it always tugged at his heartstrings to see you so eager and excited for everything he did. “Promise not to laugh?” He asked seriously and you nodded, hair bobbing along as you did so and Taiju sighed defeated before stepping aside. Your eyes scanned the kitchen which looked like a tornado just swept through it - bowls and ingredients scattered on the gorgeous kitchen isle and the floor - but when your eyes landed on the wall you had to stifle a laugh. “Is that-” you couldn't even finish your sentence before he interrupted you “cookie dough, yes,” he grumbled, a mix between annoyance and embarrassment.

Stepping closer to the beige colored mass you examined it. It was really sticking to the wall and not moving at all. “It needs more flour, it's too wet,” you pointed out, grinning a little. Taiju hated nothing more than baking, especially handing dough or rolling it out, that's something you always did and you started to wonder what has gotten in him that moved him to bake out of all things. His jaw clenched and unclenched a few times, feeling mocked by your words even if he knew you didn't mean it in a smartass way and instead were just trying to help him understand where things went wrong. “Will you at least help me clean it up?” He barked again, his emotions getting the best of him, damning his little sister for persuading him to bake your favorite cookies because it would be oh so easy - it was not. All you could do was shrug before taking some of the mass off of the wall and handing it to him “I think you can do that yourself,” you mumbled, disliking it when he lost his nerves. Of course you would help him but who in their right mind throws dough at the wall? In all honesty, it took everything within you not to crack up and laugh, this was just a perfect example of the daily chaos that was the Shiba family but it was your chaos, a mess you learned to love and cherish, something you never wanted to miss - not even single day in your life - so while he was busy cleaning up the dough from the wall and floor, you tidied up the rest of the kitchen.

Once done with cleaning, Taiju gently picked you up to sit you on top of the kitchen counter, his tall frame standing between your thighs to be closer to you. When he looked down at you, you couldn't help but start to laugh which got him frustrated all over again. “What are you laughing at, pipsqueak?” He asked with one raised brow and you gently reached into his hair to pull out a dried up chunk of dough. “It's everywhere, Tai,” you pointed out with a soft laugh and ruffled his hair to get your point across, flour and dough pieces raining on the ground beneath which caused him to pinch the bridge of his nose. Everything about this surprise went wrong and he felt like a failure - this feeling got his anger bubbling up from deep inside, a reminder of his past, a part that he would never shake entirely but his train of thoughts got interrupted when you cupped his cheek with your caring hands. “Tai, this was the first time I smiled today. You made me laugh after the possibly worst day this year,” you mumbled sincerely and while it wasn't cookies you got to eat, you still got to feel the love with which he wanted to bake these. You still felt the intention behind it and appreciated it, especially since he hated baking - cooking was more his thing. “And besides,” you continued and pointed to your bag, “Yuzuha dropped some cookies off, telling me I might need them,” you laughed softly, only now understanding her cryptic words. “That little witch. She knew I’d fail,” he mumbled but shook his head with a smile, slowly breaking out in a hearty laugh at the situation, he was all the more grateful that Yuzuha supported him without his knowledge.

“How about we decorate them together after a bath?” You suggested with a cute smile, twirling one of the hair strands that framed his face around a finger and Taiju’s ears perked up at the word ‘bath’. He wanted to spoil you that evening and now you're taking care of him once more but despite the inner protest he agreed, not willing to be entirely defeated yet since he had one last trick up his sleeve. “That sounds heavenly,” he reassured you and stepped aside so you could draw a bath for the both of you. Baths were always something else when you made them. Everything was cozier, more relaxing and so unmistakably you, something he could never replicate when he drew baths for himself - especially if he couldn't hold you while soaking in the hot water, the scent of lavender and vanilla surrounding him.

After a short while Taiju joined you in the bathroom and despite his usually intimidating aura he was so soft around you, almost like a puppy. He pulled you in a warm embrace, strong arms holding you close and giving you that familiar sense of home you were only able to find in his arms. You however poked his sides playfully and when he looked down at you with one raised brow he was met with the most endearing doe eyes, those he fell so hopelessly in love with. “The water gets cold if we just stand around,” you whined and a small pout started forming on your lips - oh how he wanted to kiss you right now but you were right, the water would get cold. Without further hesitation Taiju took his shirt off, revealing his sculpted body to yours but you had no time to admire his physique because his warm hands were already reaching for the hem of your shirt, helping you undress as always. You never had to lift a single finger with him close, he was entirely devoted to you, wrapped around your finger even- ask him to crawl and bark for you and he would without questioning you at all, your every wish was his command.

Once the both of you were undressed he gently held your hand to help you into the big bath tub before getting in right behind you, his muscular legs on each side of your body so you may sit between his thighs, your back resting against his chest and the moment your bodies rested against each other you closed your eyes in pure bliss. Taiju’s strong arms came to wrap around your beautiful body and caressing the skin on your arms and stomach to help you relax further but you only truly started to relax when you felt his lips against your neck, gently kissing along the delicate skin and you knew exactly what his next move would be. Strong hands traveled from your stomach, one up to caress the flesh of your chest, one down to rake over your thighs until you were mewling for him the way he grew addicted to.

Today he decided to be merciful, not teasing you before his fingers slid through your folds, your small noises music to his ears and the way your hands clutched onto his forearm when he plunged two of his thick fingers into your heat made him crumble. “You're so good for me, pup,” he whispered into your ear, his voice hushed and with almost every word he spoke you could feel his cock twitching with need against the plush of your butt cheeks, driving you insane with need but he had other plans for you. With precision his fingers curled into your sweet spot over and over again while his thumb massaged your sensitive bundle of nerves until you were screaming his name, begging for him to finally fill you up. Your wish was his command and he didn't let you beg twice, needing to be buried inside of you just as desperately, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest when he lifted you onto his lap, the bulbous head of his cock almost splitting you in half every single time you two got intimate. “So beautiful for me,” he groaned when your head fell against his shoulder, letting him move you up and down his shaft while he thrusted into you in ways that stole your breath. The pent up anger, the pent up need and the way your walls wrapped so tightly around him like a vice, almost milking him with every move of your hips. He knew he wouldn't last long, fingers desperate yet gentle while playing with your clit once more to finally push you over the edge. Your orgasm was intense, legs shaking from pleasure as you felt him empty his seed deep inside of you, his cock twitching in time with the spasms of your walls.

You two stayed like this for a moment longer, basking in the afterglow of your intimate moment until the water was long cold, his strong arms. not once letting go of his beloved. Your eyes grew heavy but Taiju already knew what to do, cleaning you up ever so gently once the water had drained and made sure no water nor soap ended up in your beautiful face when he washed your hair for you before tending to his own body. Once Taiju was sure that both of you were entirely clean, he lifted you out of the tub to sit you down and went onto his knees to rub you dry with the possibly softest towel you've ever felt against your skin. You felt like you were surrounded by clouds when he wrapped you up in your favorite bathrobe, a kiss pressed to your temple. “Rest now, I'll take care of you,” were the last words you heard, his fingers raking through your wet hair as the humming sound of the blow dryer lulled you into a sweet sleep, the cookies long forgotten and only love on your mind as your husband tended to you with utmost care.

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez

#taiju x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #Tokyo revengers smut #Taiju smut #Taiju fluff #tr x reader #tr smut #Tokyo revengers Taiju #taiju shiba #tokyo rev x reader

[festivalsofmargot]

hi!!!! i love your writing style, it’s so beautiful! when you have the time, could i request Ominis x reader where they have a really bad fight and Ominis says something really mean like totally out of pocket to where their relationship is cracking so he has to win her forgiveness and love back 😭 i love angst it hurts me so good

The 3 Boys & The Hogwarts Champion

{Garreth Weasley/Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Introduction: The TriWizard Tournament was a tournament that promised glory, but also a tournament with a death toll so high, just surviving it would be the accomplishment of a lifetime. Your significant other had begged you not to put your name in the Goblet of Fire. You told him you wouldn’t, but you've done so anyway in secret. These are the reactions of Garreth, Ominis, and Sebastian when they not only realize you put your name in behind their back, but that you’ve also been chosen as the Hogwarts Champion.

Word Count: 

Garreth: ~ 2,200 words

Ominis: ~ 1,700 words

Sebastian: ~ 2,400 words

Warnings: Kissing, Angst

Author’s Note: Thanks for the request, anon! And I'm so happy you enjoy my writing ❤ I hope you don't mind I got Garreth and Sebastian in on your request haha. You can go ahead and jump to reader and Ominis' fight, there aren't any rules here. 😉 Sorry for taking so long on my fanfics! Work has been nuts lately, I've fit in writing whenever I had the drive and wasn't mentally burned out from my job. Hope you enjoy and have fun with it guys, got some good ol' angst written up for ya 😚

Songs (if interested):

Garreth’s song: War of Hearts (Acoustic Version) - Ruelle

Ominis’ song: Granite - Sleep Token

Sebastian’s song: Is It Really You? - Sleep Token, Loathe

Garreth:

When Garreth heard Headmaster Black announce your name, his blood went cold, the entertained smile vanishing from his face. But - we agreed you wouldn’t… No. No, this isn’t fun anymore. Stop this. Stop all of this now. 

He watched you as you made your way up to stand with the other champions. You were smiling, happy, proud as can be that your name was chosen. But he caught the guilty look in your eye when you glanced his way. You lied to me.

The room seemed to be spinning while he sat still in his seat, looking Headmaster Black’s way but not listening to what he was saying about the tournament. His ears were ringing, he was starting to feel sick.

As soon as everyone was dismissed, Garreth shot up from his seat, wanting to get out of the Great Hall as fast as possible. You wanted to chase after him, explain yourself. But you could only watch Garreth’s form walk away as you were guided with the other champions out to discuss the tournament expectations. 

-

Garreth had gone numb. The one he loved most had lied to him, deciding some dangerous, unnecessary tournament was worth more than him. Without thinking, he had gone to Professor Sharp’s empty classroom and started brewing whatever came to mind. He wasn’t in the mood for experimenting, he wanted to put together ingredients that made sense, he couldn’t take anymore surprises.

You had been watching him silently from the doorway for a few minutes, trying to think of what you could possibly say to him after what you had done. 

Feeling someone’s presence, he turned to see who it was. He shook his head and scoffed humorlessly seeing it was you, turning back to his potions.

I deserved that welcome. “I -” You began but stopped short, not knowing how to continue.

He took a step back from his potion brew, resting his hands on the table, looking at the ground because he wasn’t quite ready to look at you. “I just want to know why. Why would you look me in the eye, promise me you wouldn’t put your name in the running, and then go off and do exactly that behind my back?” His voice was hard, his words direct. 

You had never heard him be this stern with you. You didn’t think you’d ever heard him this stern with anyone. Way to go, you’ve managed to make the most fun loving, easy going person you know livid. “There’s no good excuse, Gar.”

“Don’t.” He said through gritted teeth. “You are not allowed to call me that.”

Your heart broke, but you knew you brought this on yourself.

He took a steadying breath, trying to push down his temper. “Either tell me why you did it or leave me alone.” His tone sounded like he was already done with you.

You nodded your head, quickly trying to find the words. “I… Natty put her name in.”

Garreth squeezed his eyes shut. He had heard Natty throwing the idea of entering around but he hadn’t realized she’d actually done it. If he had found out before you did, he would have done everything in his power to keep it hidden from you. Although, he didn’t know how successful he’d be when Natty was your best friend. “If she wanted to compete, that's her choice.”

“And this is mine. I’m not letting anything happen to her.”

He stood up straight then, looking at nothing in particular. He shouldn’t have expected anything different. You were the most capable person to compete for Hogwarts, and the only one in ages able to wield ancient magic, you both knew if you entered your name you’d get chosen. He had begged you to promise him you wouldn’t put your name in. But of course, it still ended up like this.

All it would take was one misstep, and you’d be taken from him forever. The thought had brought back the sickening feeling he had earlier. Wishing he had felt numb still, he sighed and rubbed at his brows with his thumb and forefinger. “Why do you have to be the hero every bloody time?” He grumbled, just loud enough for you to hear.

You looked down, feeling horrible seeing him this way. It was a new low knowing you had caused it. Garreth was always bright and full of good humor, and your betrayal seemed to wash that all away like it never existed. “I’m so sorry. I never… never wanted to hurt you.”

He finally turned your way and looked over you solemnly for a moment. You held his gaze as he walked up and cupped your cheek. “I just had to go after you, didn’t I? Why couldn’t I have gone after someone dull? Why’d it have to be you?” He gave a small shake of his head as he mused to himself. “It’s cruel being in love with you.”

It hit you then that you could lose him over this. “I know.” You whispered.

With a disappointed sigh, he released you and went back to his potions station. “You can go now.” He said with no emotion, as if he were dismissing you.

You stared after him a moment longer, then took your leave.

He poured some of the wiggenweld potion he brewed into a flask. Just as he was about to cap it, rage coursed through him and he threw the flask against the wall.

-

He wasn’t planning on attending any of your challenges, but he found he couldn’t keep away. He needed to keep an eye on you or he’d feel worse than he already did. He remained near the back of the audience, pacing back and forth, anxiously running his hand through his hair throughout the whole thing. The sick, nervous feeling never dissipated, he could have sworn the sensation was burning a hole through his insides.

He nearly collapsed when the challenge was over, breathing easier with so much relief washing over him. He ran down to the champions’ tent to wait for you to leave. He called your name as you walked out and you quickly turned in the direction of his voice, eyes wide that he had not only shown up, but approached you first.

He closed the distance between you two and pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like he never wanted to let go. You wrapped your arms back around him, nearly crying at the collision. 

He pulled back just enough to cup your cheek and look over your features. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” His stomach dropped seeing all the gashes and bruises on your face. 

“I’m fine.” You tried to reassure him, but his eyes darting all over you told you your words hadn’t done much reassuring.

He took your hand in his and pulled you urgently along with him. “I’m getting you to the hospital wing, and I’m going to make you some wiggenweld potions.” He stopped briefly to look you dead in the eye, no nonsense. “And you’re going to drink every single one I put in front of you.” He turned and began tugging you along again.

You smiled to yourself, not daring to disagree with him. “Yes, sir.”

-

On your way to the hospital wing, you walked by the wall where the Room of Requirement would be. It never showed up when you were with someone else, but that day it did. Garreth slowed to a stop, furrowing his brows as he watched the door form before him. 

“What’s happening?” 

“It’s the Room of Requirement. Looks like it believes we both need it now.” You tugged him in with you and his eyes went wide at it all before him.

“You’ve had all this to yourself since fifth year?” He was in awe, how could you ever want to leave this place? As his eyes explored the room, they landed back on you, and he remembered in a panic what he was originally doing. “Sit down.” He commanded. He turned and scanned the room for your potions station. Spotting it, he strode up and began on some wiggenwelds. While those took a moment to brew, he looked around for some bandages, anything to patch you up with.

“Right here.” You held them up as you sat on the couch and began working them onto yourself.

He snatched them from you, sat down, and started doing it for you. You watched him as he fixated on your scrapes and bumps. Being this close again, you wanted to kiss his freckles more than ever before. He had been avoiding you since you last spoke, you were convinced you had lost him. You probably had and this was only a moment of weakness on his part. 

“I love you.” You found yourself saying. “I’d do anything for you, I hope you still know that.”

He seemed unphased by your words as he continued cleaning you up. “You’d do anything but keep your name out of a burning goblet, it seems.” 

You closed your eyes and sighed through your nose. He had you there.

He stopped his movements suddenly and shifted away from you, sighing himself and leaning his elbows on his knees. “You broke my heart, you know.” 

Tears stung at your eyes. But you refused to let them fall, you weren’t the victim here. All you could do was nod your head even though he wasn’t looking at you.

“You promised me you wouldn’t put your name in that damned goblet.” His voice was strained. He went silent for a moment, taking a steadying breath. “You got me thinking about life outside of Hogwarts.” He began again. “It’s only going to get worse once we leave here and we’re out there. You’re going to put yourself in worse and worse situations for others.” He rubbed his hand down his face roughly at the thought and let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to bear it.”

You sat up straight, trying to keep your composure as your nerves went into a stomach-turning frenzy. You knew what he was getting at.

“I don’t want to be in love with you… I don’t.” He admitted. He looked up to the potion pots and saw the wiggenwelds were done. He stood to his feet to grab them and bring them over. He knelt before you, holding up one of the flasks. “You’re to drink all three of these.” He looked up at you with a face of you don’t have a say, drink it.

You took the first one from him, downing it, then did the same for the following two. Once you finished he got up and discarded the flasks. He returned to your side on the couch and took your hand in his. He looked down at it in his lap, tracing shapes on your skin lightly with his thumb. “What I do know is that being apart from you feels so much worse. Now that… that I know I can’t bear.” He looked at you then, his face told you he was upset with himself for feeling this way, for choosing to stay by your side.

You had caused this. You had done him wrong. And he was right, things were going to get worse after Hogwarts. You really were a cruel one to love.

“I don’t know how long I'll be furious with you, but I’m thinking it’ll be a while.” He let himself get lost in your eyes for a moment. “Glad you’re okay at least.” He released your hand and got up to leave. 

You were going to let him go, but you stood to your feet and stormed after him. You grabbed at him to face you and then crashed your lips onto his. You cupped his face and he shot his hands to your waist, his fingers digging deep into your sides. 

He pulled away slightly, his eyes narrowed at you and he exhaled, frustrated. He was beyond exasperated with you, but he still craved you like no other. Furrowing his brows, he returned his lips to yours, moving his mouth against yours to satiate said craving. His hands slid up your back as he wrapped his arms around you. 

He hadn’t realized how starved he was for your taste until he had you there in his arms again. He licked at your bottom lip, wanting to get more of you, and you gladly granted him access. Anything he wanted, you’d give it to him. He could feel your compliance, and he was tempted to see just how sorry you were.

But his hands slowly moved up to yours and removed them from his face. He tore his lips from yours and looked over your flushed features, wanting more but not allowing himself more, then he released you. “Nice try.” He turned and made his way out. “Stay sweet and I might let you call me ‘Gar’ again.” He called over his shoulder.

-

Ominis:

“You what?!” Ominis was fuming now, you had seen him angry with you before, but never like this.

“I thought,” You exhaled in frustration, “I thought it would help your family approve of me.”

“My family should be none of your concern!”

“I’m not a pure-blood, Ominis, you know they would never approve of me. Being the Hogwarts Champion has to mean something. If they ever find out we’re together, they’d arrange a marriage for you like that.” You said with a snap of your fingers. “This tournament could help prove my worth.”

He shook his head, pacing back and forth. “And you’d think I’d just roll over and let that happen?! This was not the answer, I’ll never understand why you thought it was.” 

“There’s no need to get this upset. I might not even get picked anyway.”

His pacing came to a sudden halt, his eyebrows shot up in incredulity. “Is that supposed to be a joke? Of course your name’s going to get picked!” His fury turned into something with a bit more worry then. “I can’t help you when you're out there, you’re going to have to do all those challenges on your own.”

“Whatever they throw at me, I’ll be able to handle it. I’m sure I’ve already survived through worse than what they’re planning.”

“That’s just it! You had no control over everything that’s happened and you survived through it! This? You’re actively seeking out danger now, it’s pointless! When did you become so dim-witted as to not see that?!” Ominis regretted his words immediately, desperately wanting to take them back but unable to do so.

You were stunned for a moment he had actually spoken to you in such a way. A petty smile formed on your face. “Seems we’re done here.” 

Ominis called your name in a panic as he heard you storm out of the undercroft, but you ignored him. He dug around frantically in his pocket for his wand, holding it up and having it guide him to follow where you had gone. He knew his wand didn’t work as a tracker, but he had the slightest bit of hope that if it sensed how much he needed to get to you it might help him out. But no such luck.

-

It had been a week since you and Ominis fought and the dreaded day had finally arrived to announce the TriWizard tournament champions. Every now and then his wand would sense you were in the same room as him, but he didn’t need his wand to be able to tell you were keeping your distance. 

How could I have spoken to you the way I had? Every time he thought back to it, he wanted to ask Sebastian to punch him, just bash his face right in.

Even though Ominis knew it was coming, he was still hit with an overwhelming sense of dread when Headmaster Black announced your name. He didn’t clap with everyone else and he hoped you noticed.

He left the Great Hall with everyone else and his wand sensed Poppy was near him. An idea instantly formed in his head. “Excuse me, Poppy?”

Poppy turned her head in surprise hearing Ominis call to her. “Y - Yes, Ominis?”

It was a relief hearing your best friend’s voice still sound so friendly to him. You must not have told anyone about how he spoke to you, which only made him feel worse. He was the villain here. “I need your help with something.”

-

He was leaning against a tree in the woods behind the beasts class stables, hands in his pockets and tapping his foot anxiously. He heard your footsteps crunching the leaves on your way over. 

“Poppy? Poppy, I’m here with the feed, what’s happened to High Wing?” You asked in a panic. When Poppy didn’t respond, you looked up from the feed in your arms and Ominis stepped forward.

You groaned and turned on your heel to leave. 

“Please - just wait -”

“Want to insult me some more, do you?” You snipped without looking back at him.

“I’m going to have my family speak to Headmaster Black.” Ominis blurted, and you froze. “They’ll get you out of the games.”

He could hear you drop the feed to the ground. “Don’t you dare.” A chill went down his spine at your warning tone but he stood his ground.

“You don’t have a say in the matter. You’re not competing.”

He could hear you stomp up to him, could feel your presence, and you were close. His breath hitched when he realized you were close enough for him to feel your breath against his skin. It had hit him all at once how he hadn’t been able to touch you for a week, and he didn’t know if he was able to keep himself from closing the distance between you two right then and there.

“Back off, Gaunt. How about you sit down and shut up while I show this entire valley what this ‘dim-wit’ can do?” 

Ominis’ lips parted slightly. Oh... 

He fisted the fabric of your shirt and shot his lips in the direction of where he felt your breath and heard your voice. It was all too perfect getting your lips on the first try, especially with you having riled him up, speaking to him as you had.

He nipped at your lip and it drew the softest of moans from you, but he caught it. He always heard every little noise he could get out of you. Your hands went up and ran through his hair, you had missed him too, he could tell. Remembering where the tree he was leaning against was, he walked you back until you were pressed against it. 

He released your shirt and brought his hands to your waist. His kisses turned less ravenous and more apologetic. He slowed and deepened his mouth movements. “I’m sorry.” He whispered against your lips. “I’m so sorry. I had no right speaking to you that way.” He said in between kisses. “There’s no excuse. I’ll do everything in my power to make it up to you.”

“Ominis, stop talking.” You sighed, greedily taking his lips again. Though his body weight was against you, keeping you trapped between him and the tree, he was the compliant one.

Ominis pulled back, as much as he wanted to keep connected to you, you two had unfinished business. “I won’t go to my family… if it’s what you really want.” Ominis said, still a bit breathless from your kiss. “Just… don’t do it for them, I beg of you. They aren't worth it.” Ominis leaned forward to kiss at your neck tenderly as he waited for your answer.

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. “It’s what I want. If not me, then who?”

His mouth on your neck stilled. As much as he hated to agree with you on this, he did. If he sent his family to speak with Headmaster Black to have another student take your place, he’d practically be sending that student to their death. You were the most capable person he had ever known, and you didn’t even need dark magic to accomplish all that you had. If anyone was going to survive this thing, it was you.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a loving embrace. He nuzzled his face into your neck and took in your scent, reveling in this moment you had together. He thought he had ruined everything after your fight. 

More than anything, he wanted to go back in time and do everything he could to stop you from ever entering your name into that Goblet. But in the end, it was always your choice, not his.

-

The days leading up to your first challenge, Ominis kept close to your side, constantly asking you questions on how prepared you were. 

“Did you brew enough wiggenweld potions? How about we start on some thunderbrews for you as well?”

“I know how effective the chomping cabbages are, but let’s get some mandrakes and venomous tentaculas grown to be on the safe side.”

“Were you able to put that enchantment I showed you on your competition robes?”

The day of the challenge, he was able to keep his composure, but only because you asked him to. You were anxious as well, and him being sick with worry for you would only add to the frenzy of nerves within you.

He asked Sebastian to narrate everything that was happening while you were out there. Hearing Sebastian’s depiction and the blasting sounds of spells from the arena unraveled his calm exterior more and more by the second. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, leg bouncing up and down rapidly. He didn’t know how he was going to have to sit through two more of these.

Use the Unforgivables if you have to, I don’t care. He found himself thinking. Whatever it takes, just come back to me.

The sound of the crowd cheering and the feel of Sebastian roughly patting his back in excitement told him you had completed the first challenge. He immediately stood to his feet and took out his wand, his legs were jelly but he pushed through and went straight for the champions’ tent. As soon as he arrived you had run up and thrown your arms around him.

He didn’t hesitate to drop his wand to the ground and wrap his arms around you. He closed his eyes, holding you so close to him he had started to lift you off the ground a bit. He was beyond thankful to every little thing in the universe that aligned to help him get back to you.

“If you still believe my family would be able to tear me from you, you might actually be a dim-wit.”

He could feel you chuckle against him. “I’d like to see them try after what I just accomplished back there.”

-

Sebastian:

Sebastian had let his emotions get the better of him again. It was his fault you had been avoiding him for days now, and he couldn’t bear it any longer. He tried giving you your space but he needed to at least let you know how sorry he was. As soon as the TriWizard champions announcement ceremony was over, he’d find you and apologize. He needed to be better, he knew that.

But then your name was called. 

Wait, that can’t be right. You didn’t even put your name in so how…? His breathing grew a bit heavier. No, no Professor Black read the wrong name. You told each other everything. And he specifically had you promise him you wouldn’t enter. 

He watched for your features to see if you were just as confused as he was, but you weren’t. You were smiling, happily receiving congratulatory pats on the back as you walked up to stand with the champions already chosen, not glancing his way once.

He mentally willed you to look his way as you stood up there. Give me something, give me anything. Tell me with your eyes why you did this. But no use, you were up there looking as if you had no reason not to be.

When everyone was dismissed he stayed back a bit, wanting to go up to you. But you and the other champions were escorted away to discuss what was to be expected going into this tournament.

Sebastian waited outside the Great Hall until you were done. Once he saw you walking out, he pushed up off the wall he was leaning against and came up behind you, calling your name.

“Did you enter because of me? Is this my fault?”

You stopped in place, taking a moment to turn and face him. You had some trouble meeting his gaze. “You weren’t the main reason, but I’d be lying if I said you weren’t a part of it.”

“Then why? Why else would you do this?”

You looked over his dispirited features in silence for a moment. “Since the moment I arrived at Hogwarts, I felt as if I’ve been running around taking care of everyone else. And after our last fight, I… I don’t know. Something in me snapped, Sebastian. Putting my name in that Goblet, it -” You exhaled, feeling like he wouldn’t understand but you decided to tell him anyway, “it was the first time I felt like I was doing something for me.”

Sebastian looked down, it seemed you didn’t tell each other everything like he once believed. How could he have not known you felt this way? He was the one seeing you and he didn’t even realize something had been off with you.

“I know I made a promise not to do it. And for breaking that promise, I apologize. But… I don’t regret doing it.” You were ashamed at the admission, but you wanted him to know.

He realized it then when he met your gaze, he had lost you. You had been slipping away from him for a while, and he had been so blinded by his own issues he hadn’t noticed until it was too late.

A nasty, stomach turning feeling hit him all at once. “Is this… Are you ending things between us?”

His heart constricted painfully when you didn’t answer him right away, didn’t reassure him that he had it all wrong and you would never part from him. You were looking at him like you knew the next thing you were about to say would make him feel terrible. 

“Sebastian, I’ll always be around to help you with Anne -”

He huffed in disbelief and turned on his heel to get out of there, as far away from you as possible. He didn’t want to hear you finish that sentence, how you had started it had already broken him enough.

-

He fell back onto his bed, throwing an arm over his eyes. He couldn’t stop the tears from stinging at them but he could sure as hell keep them from falling. It hurt more thinking back to the conversation and realizing that not once had you called him ‘Seb’ like you normally did. How long has it been since you had? Even more indication of how far you had drifted away. How did this happen?

When was the last time you asked him to help you with anything? There were a few times in fifth year you had asked for his help getting the triptychs, but those outings had benefited him as well in trying to get a cure for Anne. Was there ever a time he had helped you with anything that was purely for you? He was disgusted with himself, not being able to name a single time. No wonder he lost you.

And now you were going to compete in a tournament famous for being so dangerous, it was common for the participants to die. Throwing yourself into jeopardy like this, you hadn’t asked for his help. No. You had banished him from your side. How could you expect him to keep his distance in circumstances such as these?

The tears were overflowing, escaping out of his shut eyelids and he pressed his arm over them tighter. Just come back. I need you back. I’ll be better, I promise.

-

Ominis had advised Sebastian to give you your space, if you wanted his help you would ask for it. But all these horrifying scenarios kept popping up in his head, scenarios where you die and he could have done something to prevent it. He didn’t care if you ignored him, didn’t care if you hated him, as long as you were alive, you could feel however you damn well pleased about him.

He had scoured the library for any enchantment you could put on your competition robes, any herbology methods to make your carnivorous plants more vicious, anything to make your potions more effective. 

He lost sleep over it, he didn’t mind. He’d much rather sneak into the restricted section late at night than face those nightmares of your corpse he’d been having the past week. Once he felt he had enough notes written out of all these things that could help you, he decided to find you.

He waited for you to come outside of the Room of Requirement with a notebook of everything he had researched for you. It was late but there was still a good amount of time before curfew. As the halls were getting darker and emptier, he sat on the ground, head back against the wall until you came out. 

He startled a bit when the door finally formed. He sprang to his feet and straightened out his clothes as he watched you walk out. Your eyes met his and it pained him that you looked uneasy to see him.

“I um -” He cleared his throat, a bit unsure of himself now that he had your full attention. “I have something for you.” He held out the notebook to you.

You glanced down at it in his hands, then eyed him as you took it. “What’s this?” 

Sebastian moved himself to your side, looking over your shoulder, opening the notebook as you held it in your hand and gave as brief an explanation as he could. He pointed out where you could find the herbology notes, the enchantment notes, and the potion notes. As he explained, your eyes drifted gradually up from the notebook to his face.

After a moment, he noticed you looking at him and not the notebook. “What?”

“Nothing.” You looked back down at the notebook. “Thank you for this.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything and stayed where he was next to you. You looked back up at him, wondering if there was something else he wanted. He hadn’t been this close to you for weeks. He missed your scent, your warmth, your lips being this close to his. He wanted to claim them again, but he knew he couldn’t. You weren’t his anymore. 

Rather than pulling you close, he kept his hands to himself and gave a single nod of his head to you. Then he turned on his heel and left.

You watched him walk away in silence. You were expecting him to ask for something in return, help with some cave that had some book that mentioned some untapped magic. Just like he had always done. But he had just given you the notebook and left it at that.

Where was this Sebastian before? Truth be told, you always felt like he could walk out on you at any moment. Especially if he ever felt like he no longer had a need for your ancient magic, there were many nights you’d be up wondering if that was the only reason he was with you. This along with the way he would snap at you whenever he was frustrated, taking it out on you. He had gotten better about it since fifth year, but it still occurred.

Whether he was doing this to get you or your ancient magic back, only time would tell.

-

The day of your first challenge arrived, and Sebastian hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep the night before. He debated not turning up at all, but the idea had made him feel nauseous. He needed to stay close to you throughout this whole thing.

Whether or not he actually watched was still up in the air. He stood behind one of the wooden beams in the audience stands, arms crossed over his chest tightly in hopes of keeping himself from throwing up. When it was announced you were up next, he squeezed his eyes shut and the blood drained from his face. This could be it, these could be your last few moments alive. He could hear you start the challenge below and sweat began to form on his forehead.

“Sebastian, you've got to see this!” Lucan Brattleby shouted to him over the crowd’s cheers.

Sebastian’s head snapped his direction, and he noticed the crowd’s faces. They weren’t biting their nails or covering their eyes in horror, they were ecstatic, brows raised and eyes wide in awe. Sebastian came out from behind the pillar and looked down into the arena below.

A rousing sensation coursed through him as he watched you. You’re glorious. He always knew you were capable and talented. He’d caught glimpses of your skill with a wand when you competed in Crossed Wands or fought side by side on your outings together. But he had never just… watched you. His worry for you in this tournament was fizzling away the more he witnessed you practically dance through this challenge in the arena below. Your footwork was clean, your defensive reflexes quick, and your offensive casts brutal.

He could watch you do this all day.

When the challenge ended, you had placed first with a sweeping victory. He couldn’t help it, he wanted to run to you and congratulate you, tell you how amazing you were himself. Even if you only gave him a fleeting glance, even if you ignored him.

His nerves went into a frenzy seeing you come out of the tent. You had spotted him right away, and you seemed genuinely pleased to see him. He was taken aback and thought his heart would burst out of his chest.

You made your way up to him and he stuttered trying to get his words out. “I - I just wanted to come by and tell you -”

“Come here.” He was silenced when you grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He was stunned but quickly shook himself out of it, wrapping his arms around you to keep you on him like this. 

You were in complete control of this kiss, and Sebastian had no complaints. Your hands moved to cup his jaw, holding him in a way that you could move his head so his mouth was right where you wanted it at all times. His heart was racing in anticipation while yours raced with adrenaline. His body was turning into a furnace for you. He knew this wasn’t a makeup kiss, this was a passionate, emotions are high kind of kiss. But he’d give it to you all the same, anything you wanted, it was yours.

You had never felt so on top of the world in your life. The sound of the crowd cheering you on so loudly the arena began to shake, completing the first challenge like it was nothing, and taking charge of Sebastian Sallow’s lips, it was all unbelievably intoxicating.

“Thank you.” You said breathily, breaking from him. “For that notebook, it helped more than you know, thank you.”

“It’s nothing compared to what you’ve done for me.” He shook his head, then placed his forehead on yours. “You deserve so much more.”

You stroked his cheek with your thumb, taking in his freckles, soaking in this short moment where you two were close again.

“Can you see yourself coming back to me?” He found himself asking.

You took a moment to answer as you kept your hold on each other. “I don’t know… I still love you. I think I always will. But -” You thought on your words carefully and Sebastian stiffened, tightening his hold on you, afraid of letting you slip away again. “I don’t know if I have anything more to give.”

“I’m not asking you to give anything.” He said quickly, voice just above a whisper. “I don’t care if you never help me with finding a cure again. Just… Please, don’t tear yourself away from me.”

You looked into his eyes, not wanting to break this moment, unsure of what was supposed to happen next. “I need more time.”

He closed his eyes briefly at that answer, then gave a small nod. It wasn’t what he wanted you to say, but there was still hope in it. He’d wait, as long as it took. And he’d continue helping you in this tournament whether you liked it or not.

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[orqheuss]

💚 Sebastian Sallow headcanons 💚

Sebastian has a habit of rambling. Asking him any personal question about his feelings is a surefire way to get him to ramble about whatever he is researching at that current moment with nervous energy instead of answering. It's not only when he's nervous, to be fair, he just has a tendency to ramble in general. The boy is a Nerd. You will always find him around the castle with his nose in a book, so any opportunity to talk about the thing he is currently interested in, he's taking it.

High key ADHD. Boy cannot be still to save his life. He's always moving in some way, be it tapping his foot, twirling his wand, playing with your fingers-- he's moving some body part. It can definitely be annoying at times, but you can't help but let him continue, especially when he has that cute consentrated face.

He's a lightweight. It doesn't take much for him to get absolutely plastered, and when he's that sloshed he has endless amounts of energy. It's like taking his normal golden retriever-ness and ramping it up to 100. I'm talking climbing on tables and singing Scottish Gaelic folk songs (he's fluent in the language) with a full conjured folk band (fiddle and all) until Ominis drags him to his bedroom. He always gets invited to parties.

Can speak, read, and write many languages, but his favorite is latin. Again, he's a huge nerd, so he learns as many languages as he can so he can read any book he encounters. He teaches his friends latin and sometimes likes to leave them little notes that no one else can read. You can bet he made up a secret language that only he and Anne knows; not even Ominis can crack it. 100% tried to learn Parseltongue out of spite because Ominis said it was impossible to master if you weren't born with it. Sebastian knows a few words after making his friend repeat phrases tediously over and over until he got at least some of it, and it drives him insane that Ominis was technically right (Ominis is very smug about this).

Sebastian is super affectionate with his friends. He grew up in a house that valued physical touch and comfort, so random hugs and little touches are second nature. He'll guide your hand when learning new spells because he used to do the same to Ominis in first and second year, ruffle yours and Ominis' hair when he's feeling playful, bump his shoulder against yours in the hallway when he's feeling mischievous, and sometimes fully lay across the both of you, feet in one persons lap and head in the other, and make you play with his hair when he's tired, sad, or stressed.

A big softy around animals. He's not much of a cat person and won't really go out of his way to pet them or play with them (unless they initiate first) but he will never turn down playing with a dog. He has always wanted one of his own, but his parents died before they could get one and Solomon hated house pets. He likes to hang out with the nifflers the most in beasts class-- he finds them adorable and their energy hilarious. Sebastian sometimes carries little shiny things he finds around the highlands for them.

The Mom Friend™️. Always has what you need in his pockets. Have to sneeze? Here's a tissue. Need a vial for some potion ingredient? Say no more. Have a headache? He has a potion just for that. He has everything. Honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if he put an extension charm on his robe pocket for that exact purpose. The boy always has to be prepared for anything, even the absolute worst case scenario.

So clumsy. He'd trip over air if he wasn't careful. When he's dueling he's perfectly fine, but just walking around or talking with his friends? He's accidentally running into walls or knocking things over. It's never on purpose or because he's incompetent, it's just that he gets so wrapped up in what he's talking about that he doesn't notice his hand gestures getting too close to the potion he's brewing or see the turn just up ahead. Ominis makes a lot of jokes that Seb needs his echolocation charm more than he does, but it's all in good fun.

#tina speaks #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow headcanon #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian hogwarts legacy #sebastian hl #sebastian sallow hogwarts legacy #i just love him very much #he's so cute #he's canonically a nerd and i think ppl forget that sometimes #what a perfect guy #what murder i don't see any murder

[i984]

I Love You- Wait, What?

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader

|Warnings|: THIS IS CRACK, Ooc! Wednesday Addams, author kind of gave up on writing after the third perspective shift, honestly this fic is just a joke at this point, potion works weirdly here, stupid love confessions, panicked but low-key high! Wednesday Addams.

|Summary|: You ruin everything for Wednesday Addams, be it sleeping peacefully or good potion-making.

|A/n|: This might as well be titled "I Gave Up on Quality" with the pairing of Wednesday x @vorsdany . I am really sorry but also not really. I promise I write better fics than this.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A moron.

That's what you are.

"No, I'm pretty sure I put in the right stuff. Snake fangs and then lavender, right?" You scratched at your back while stretching your sore body as carefully as possible.

With the cauldron, textbooks, parchments, and various ingredients scattered across Wednesday's dorm room floor, you're pretty sure the girl will smack your head if you spill the potion in the making the second time.

Wednesday pointed at the procedure text in hand; you sighed as you leaned forward to read. Okay. Great. So you managed to mess up not only the order but also the name of the ingredients. 

"Snake tail? Well- You know what? I can't help you make this mystery potion if you don't tell me what it's for."

"You were the one who insisted on being a nuisance, might I remind you," Wednesday scoffed as she crossed her arms, brows coming together at the disaster liquid filling the pot.

The potion glows a wine color, its light casting a shadow on the ravenette's tired face; the dark bags underneath her eyes compliment her overall corpse-like look. You wouldn't worry because somehow this appearance works a charm for her, except her behaviors have also resembled the living dead. 

"Well, it's because you look like you can use some help-"

"I do not need help, especially not from you." 

Wednesday didn't even look up as she said it, nose buried deep in whatever book she was reading. Why do you even bother to put up with her at this point?

"Fine! I'm leaving, then." No response. 

If she is going to act like you don't exist, you might as well sabotage her top-secret project. Hands swiftly switching the marked lids of two flower jars—white periwinkle and phlox—you stand up and make your way across the room, heading for the door.

"Good luck, Wens." You throw her an open smirk you know she won't see before exiting the room.

You can't wait to see her fail.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Wednesday lets her body slump as soon as the sound of your footsteps recedes to nothing. The past week has been... restless. And she meant that quite literally. For some reason, her past vision invades her mind when she tries to subdue her consciousness.

With her eyes closed, the picture was as blinding as it is irritating, like daylight to her pitch-black heart. 

It always started with a smile—that annoying smug one—plastered on a face she knew too well for her own liking. And then, echoes of laughter would haunt her, taunt her.

She hasn't let it go farther than that. She couldn't. If Wednesday is going insane, it'll be from the intense torture she befalls upon herself. Not from such unwelcomed twisted imageries that plague her mind.

"Descendamus somno sempiterno, donec corpus e carcere reviviscat." Wednesday speaks in her best Latin, fingers trembling as they throw the right ingredients into the cauldron. 

She watches the liquid turn colorless—a telltale sign that it's successful—and sighs in relief. 

Finally, her sleeping potion is ready.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You turn your head to the sound of a familiar booming voice calling your name across the cafeteria. Enid, the werewolf, approaches you with a daunting look on her face. How unusual.

"No bone-crushing hugs today?"

No response. Why is everybody ignoring your words?

"Something is really wrong with Wednesday."

You huff at her while you take a seat. "Really? Because I'm pretty sure she just kicked me out of your room half an hour ago." You grab a brownie from your plate and take a bite out of it. "That seemed pretty normal to me."

Enid raises her eyebrow at you knowingly. "Well, what did you do?"

"Nothing!"

A couple of heads turn both your ways. Suddenly, the ceiling looks very interesting. You can see Enid waving dismissively at the crowd from your peripherals. Face contorting in an apologetic look, you take another bite from your brownie.

"Anyway, she told me my sweater looks like a lunatic splattered their guts on it."

The piece of cake dropped off your mouth. "That means she's into your sweater," Enid raised her eyebrows speculatively as she handed you a tissue, "Did she just give you a compliment?" 

"As a matter of fact, yes I did." 

You and Enid jump at the chilling voice from behind you. 

"Dude! You scared the heck out of me," you turn your head to see Wednesday holding a glass of red liquid. She looked drowsy—subdued almost.

"First of all, never call me 'dude' ever again," the ravenette seated beside you groggily, "and second of all, I thought I made a point that fear feeds my entertainment needs."

"Oh yeah, I forgot you do that-"

You take a pause. Enid immediately notices the look on your face.

"What? What's wrong?" The werewolf asked you in a hushed tone. The raven watches as she takes a sip of her drink.

"Did you just- Did she just-" You pull away from Wednesday in disbelief, "reply to the things I say?"

The girl in question only raises her eyebrow at you, the glass of pomegranate juice resting on her now red-stained lips. Then her brows slowly meet in the middle again, perfectly mirroring her look from earlier. 

The glass produces a thud as Wednesday puts it down on the table. You and Enid share a look with each other. A concerned look. One of you has got to say something right now, and you aren't going to be the one to do it.

The sentiment is shared apparently because the blonde also has her mouth trapped shut.

Clankings of dishes. Chatter comes from the crowds. The room was far from silent, but for some reason, it was as if everybody was waiting for Wednesday's response. The tension thickens in the air as the girl turns to look at you, despair etched in her features.

"I need your help." 

You take the last bite out of your brownie. The sweetness resembles something of a victory.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

There must be something wrong with the potion; Wednesday figured out as much. She expected that after the drowsiness took over and her heartbeat slowed, she'd finally be able to shut her mind and get some much-needed rest.

But it was the opposite; while her muscles may have relaxed, the images flashed through her brain with newfound intensity. 

The smug smile, the laughter that resembled screeching metal chains, the mischievous twinkle in those eyes- Oh, how those eyes dragged her feet through the corridors of Ophelia hall. 

Nothing made sense anymore; Wednesday needed to find the source of her madness and stop whatever is happening at the very core.

She needs to stop you. 

But not before throwing Enid a merry compliment along the way and giving Eugene a preposterous nickname.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Bee Man? That's what you came up with?" You're almost rolling on Wednesday's dorm room floor, hands coming to clutch your contracting stomach; if Wednesday doesn't kill you now, the laughter certainly will.

"Yes, but can we please focus on the task at hand?" The ravenette clenched her jaw, "You're supposed to be helping me find the problem with the potion-"

Boisterous cackles cut through Wednesday's words, and you swear you can see fumes coming out of her ears. "-not to laugh at a genuine, original nickname."

"Yes, but he asked you to give him a nickname and BEE MAN-" you wheeze uncontrollably, eyes tearing up at the absurdity of it.

If you knew changing one ingredient would've given you a very talkative and silly Wednesday Addams, you would've done so during potion class ages ago.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you what I did," you take a deep breath, hands coming to pick up one of the vials containing water-like liquid; eyes scanning the mystery messed up serum.

"But, only if you answer my questions first."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Wednesday was ready to whip out a dagger to your neck and make a new potion from scratch, but without identifying the real problem, she'd risk committing the same mistake again.

After all, she'd been meticulous in following the instructions. So it couldn't have been a mistake on her part.

Begrudgingly, she nods, bracing herself for whatever question you may throw her.

You flashed her a teasing smirk, and Wednesday could've sworn it was almost identical to the ones that haunted her every time she so much closed her eyes. A mere coincidence. That's all that is.

"All right, question number one," you cleared your throat before resuming, "Pineapple on pizza, yes or no?"

This threw Wednesday off. And as if you could read her mind, you added a quick, "and no, there's no significance to these questions. Just answer them as is."

Recalling the intense debate Enid has dragged her in with Yoko in the past, she thanked her roommate internally for the fact that the werewolf has basically force-fed her the food.

A simple 'yes' slides out Wednesday's mouth, and you move on to the second question—still with that annoying smirk plastered on your face.

"The second question. Mint chocolate ice cream for dessert, yay or nay?"

"Yes."

"Beep-boop, that's not the proper answer to my question. You have two more chances of getting this correct!"

Wednesday feels her face scrunch in exasperation, "I thought you said there's no signi-"

"One more chance until you're disqualified! Please choose your words carefully," you wiggled your eyebrows at her, and it took everything in Wednesday not to smash the spare potion vial at your face.

"Yay. The answer is yay." 

"Yay, indeed!" you make a grand gesture by lifting your hands in the air, "Onto the next question. Which one do you put in first; cereal or milk-"

"Milk. It's milk. Next question please."

"Ohoho, eager are we?" you stand up and grab the textbook Wednesday had used earlier for the potion-making instruction. Now Wednesday has all her attention on you, eyes narrowing in laser focus as anticipation for your upcoming words.

"Finally! The most important question of this compatibility test, and no matter your answer, I'll tell you what you desire to hear most!" 

Your fingers tap and dance on the book's cover—imitating the sound of drumrolls—and Wednesday almost mauled you then and there if not for your question;

"You, Wednesday Friday Addams, have a crush on me, yes or no?"

The ravenette surprisingly sinks in an internal debate at this.

Just say no. It wouldn't matter. You'll know why the sleeping potion doesn't work after this. Just say no. What is stopping you? It's so easy. The answer is no. Just say-

"Yes, I do." 

What?

No, no, no, no. This can't be. Correct yourself. Say-

"I do have a crush on you."

The book you're holding dropped to the floor. Wednesday looks up to see your mouth gaping, eyes darting all over her face as if you're looking for a sign of her joking. 

But there was none. There was just a surprised look shared between the two of you. 

Wednesday quickly grabs her book and flips through the pages hurriedly.

The slip-ups, compliments, and the awful nickname. The love confession. Could it really be?

Wednesday's fingers slowed down as she reached a designated page, her eyes scanning the room to see two almost identical flower jars at the foot of her bed, only differentiated by a label stuck on the lid.

And when Wednesday caught your guilty face looking at it like her, she knew.

White Periwinkle and Phlox. The two kinds of flower that are similar in appearance but differ significantly as ingredients of a potion.

"A truth potion," You both breathed out into the room.

And you look at Wednesday; she's looking at you. 

"So it's true then?" The shakiness in your voice surprised the two of you, forcing you to clear your throat for the second time in her room.

"It is what it is," Wednesday tears her gaze away from yours to the book in hand, covering her flushed face with the extent of her bangs.

"Unless we managed to mess up the truth potion too, then maybe-"

"No, no, no, no, because," you drop to the ground and kneel at the space in front of her, hands hurriedly opening the vial containing the liquid that had started it all. Wednesday panically looks at you now, and you smile at her before chugging the whole thing down.

"I have a crush on you, too."

And there it is in all your glory; bright smug smile, childish laughter, and mischievous eyes. It finally clicked for Wednesday that you—yes, you—are her eternal living nightmare. She'll make sure you pay the price for all her sleepless nights. 

And it's not gonna be cheap.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

|A/n2|: I really am genuinely sorry, I promise I'll do better next time.

#wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday series #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday x reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams icon #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday x y/n #wednesday x you #wednesday #jenna ortega #wednesday addams x gn reader #spotify

[sunenjoyswriting]

Okay, so if I got the rules right.

Can I request Lilia trying to cook alongside the reader and, because reader has a soft spot for such a determined chef like Lilia, they let him.

BUT, somehow they make an actual good meal.

Gn for the reader and if you want, purely platonic.

This Bat-Man is trying his best okay?

The impossible has been achieved!?

Writers note: Anon I am so sorry this took so long. Procrastination and lack of motivation have gotten to me…

Possible warnings: Mentions of Lilia’s cooking/j. Reader isn’t Yuu (that was my plan at least idk how obvious it is)

Summary: Reader and Lilia cook together because reader has a soft spot for Lilia... Except, they actually manage to NOT burn down the Diasomnia kitchen!?

Lilia was infamous in the Diasomnia dorm for many things, one of said things being his... Definitely questionable cooking.

You, as someone who is somewhat of a competent cooker, has someone managed to take a soft spot for Lilia, and ends up trying to cook with him on more then one occasion. You've had to pay hundreds of thaumarks to repair the Diasomnia kitchen due to this.

Of course, you never learn apparently, because you're yet again attempting to cook with Lilia. (The rest of the dorm can only hope that it goes somewhat well...)

It was a simple meal - some scrambled eggs! Very simple, nobody can mess those up (excluding Lilia. He can manage to mess them up, probably.)

You were very careful to be detailed with your instructions, and were doing anything that Lilia could easily mess up (example: heating up the stove. We don't want another fire, now do we?), in hopes to avoid having to spend more thaumarks on repairs.

“So now you crack the eggs over the pan.” You instructed, keeping your eyes on Lilia to make sure that he doesn’t mess up such a simple act.

Thankfully, he didn’t fuck that up.

”Now, I’ll scramble them.” You said, grabbing the… whatever you use to scramble eggs because honestly I barely cook and don’t remember the names of any cooking utensils, and quickly scrambling the eggs.

Now all you had to do was wait for them to finish, and assure Lilia doesn't add any of his "secret ingredients" to the food and it'll be perfect...

So you did just that, and managed to get the scrambled eggs onto a plate WITHOUT any of the kitchen being charred black! Its a miracle!

You were finally able to make something with Lilia successfully, even if it were just scrambled eggs...

~ The End ~

…

Bonus:

Malleus: "... Are you sure Lilia helped you make this?"

Reader: "Yep! He did help me!"

Lilia: "I can confirm that~ I cracked the eggs!"

Silver: "... Sure, father, whatever you say."

(Does Silver actually call Lilia "father" in the game? Maybe! But if he doesn't, well, he does now!)

#writing blog #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader

[lieslab]

Sweet Cheeks

Summary: You decide to make Felix a batch of brownies after he has a rough day, but things go wrong. 

Word Count: 1,500

Genre: Sickly sweet fluff 

Read the last post: 🍯

_ _ _ 

“Hi baby, I miss you. I’m sorry if I’m not texting you much. It’s been kind of a rough day today. Please don’t be too mad at me. I’ll make it up to you when I get home, I promise. I’m leaving the studio right now and I’ll be home soon. I love you❣️”

You glanced down at the message that your boyfriend had sent you and paused for a moment. Biting down on your lip, you thought for a moment before sending your response. 

“Don’t worry about it, babe. It’s okay. We all have bad days sometimes. I’ll be waiting for you when you get here with open arms. See you in a few minutes. I love you too!!” 

You glanced at the clock on your phone and paused. You figured that something had been bothering Felix today. He had texted you here and there, but his tone was much different than it normally was. His responses came back in one or two words instead of a few sentences or double, even triple, text messages. 

You ran through your brain trying to figure out what Felix did for you when you had a bad day. Most of the time, he made you brownies and insisted that the two of you needed to spend some quality time together. It could be as simple as watching a movie or playing board games. 

Your eyes slowly looked up from your phone and across the living room towards a closet. The top of it was filled with a variety of board games that the two of you had collected over the years. Since he was close with the rest of the band and the two of you had your own place, a lot of the time, they all came over to hang out. 

There were always, at least, two of them that would bicker about what everyone else wanted to watch on the living room TV. That’s when Felix and you had decided to start collecting board games. While everyone was watching TV, sometimes the members would wander out to the kitchen and get caught up in a board game. 

Flinging yourself off of the couch, you hurried towards the kitchen. Unlocking your phone, you headed towards your notes app. After begging and begging for months, Felix finally caved while he was drunk. He gave you the exact measurements for his secret brownie recipe while giggling. Obviously, he wasn’t going to give you it for free. Between every ingredient, he pucker his lips, and waited for you with his eyes closed. 

You’d kiss him and then he’d reveal an ingredient. The whole thing took less than five minutes and when he woke up the next morning, with a killer headache, he had no idea what he had done the previous night. Perhaps, this was finally your chance to wow him. 

You quickly washed your hands and began gathering everything you needed. Not wanting to waste a single second, you measured out your ingredients perfectly and placed them into a large mixing bowl. Excitement swirled in your stomach. You couldn’t help, but smile to yourself. 

You couldn’t wait for him to get home and reveal your plans. Of course, the brownies wouldn’t be done cooking by the time he arrived. If you were lucky, perhaps, the house would greet him with the warm scent of chocolate. You knew how much he loved his brownies and physical affection. It was the perfect way to make him feel better. 

You grabbed a whisk out of a drawer and began whisking everything together. Everything was still out because you didn’t have time to put it away. You’d finish mixing the ingredients together, place them in the pan, toss them in the oven, and then you could clean up your mess. 

So there was a bit of flour you spilled and some egg that you hadn’t cracked over the bowl properly with. Liquid egg white had formed a small puddle on the table. You had plenty of time to get everything set up before Felix came home, or so you thought.

After removing the whisk, you picked up the large mixing bowl full of batter, and began heading towards the stove. You already had a pan waiting for you. You had coated it with a cooking spray, so the brownies didn’t stick to it. Right as you were walking towards it, you forgot that you had spilled vegetable oil on the floor. 

The moment your bare foot touched it, you slid. Caught off balance, you let out a yelp as your body fell back. Time seemed to freeze as you flew through the air. Your body was weightless until your back smacked into the tile floor. The bowl full of thick batter tilted. Due to the remaining oil in the batter, it slid forward. 

Splat!

Sticky batter instantly covered your face. To make matters worse, the front door opened a few seconds afterwards. While you were still in shock and trying to claw the mixture out of your eyes and off your mouth, so you could breathe, Felix’s voice filled the air. 

“Honey, I’m home!” 

The batter was everywhere. Clumped together in your eyebrows, coating your eyelashes, your fingers were caked in it. You frantically wiped it away from your face, but it only made the mess bigger. It got in your hair, it went beneath your nails, you were almost near tears. 

All you had wanted to do was cheer up your boyfriend and instead, you had made a bigger mess. You’d have to make more batter for more brownies and you weren’t even sure you had enough ingredients. 

“Baby?” Felix’s voice called out again. “Where are you? Are you here?” 

You froze as his footsteps headed towards the kitchen. “I’m in the kitchen. Don’t come out here! I’m working on…on a surprise?” 

Felix chuckled, “you don’t sound so sure about that.” 

You let out a sigh as his footsteps came closer. Soon he’d see you as a complete mess. You quickly forced yourself to sit up. Batter dripped down onto the front of your shirt. You let out a sting of curse words upset with yourself. 

Loud laughter caused you to snap your head up. You shot Felix a glare, but all he could do was laugh harder. His eyes scrunched up into crescent moons. The sides of his lips upturned as his chest heaved with laughs. “W-what happened?” He finally got out after trying to compose himself. 

“I was trying to make you brownies and then I fell. I’m going to clean it up, I swear.” You scooped up some of the batter that had fallen onto the floor and placed it back into the mixing bowl. 

A bright white smile never left his face. He stared at you with endearing amusement. “You were going to make me brownies?” 

“You said you were having a rough day. I wanted to make you feel better.” You scooped up more batter into the bowl. “I’m sorry I caused a bigger mess. Your brownies are going to be delayed because I need to clean up.” 

He reached out a hand towards you. 

“What are you doing?” You raised an eyebrow. Your hands were still covered in batter. You had gotten most of it off your face, but some was still smeared behind. 

“Helping you up.” 

“But I-” 

He cut you off by bending down and grabbing your hand without complaint. He helped you get up and another smile appeared on his face. Without a sound, he reached out a finger towards your face and scooped up some of the remaining batter into his mouth. “Mmh, delicious.” 

“Stop it! There’s raw egg in that.” 

“And?” 

“You could get salmonella.” 

“Calm down sweet cheeks. It’s not the first time I’ve consumed raw brownie batter and it won’t be the last time.” He leaned forward and quickly pecked your lips with his own. Eyes full of mischief, his tongue appeared a few seconds later as he licked his lips. “You taste delicious. I’m sure they would have been wonderful brownies.” 

You bit down on your lip. You weren’t going to tell him that you had his brownie recipe. You would keep that a secret for now. 

“How about you go clean up in the bathroom? I’ll fix up your mess out here and when you get back, we can make a batch together?” 

You nodded your head and let out a sigh. “I’m really sorry for this. I was hoping you’d be able to come home to the smell of warm brownies.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Without missing a beat, he scooped another fingerful of batter off your cheek, and shoved it into his mouth. 

“Salmonella!” You cried out again worried that he’d get sick from the raw eggs. 

All he could do was let out another laugh as you shook your head and walked away. 

Read the next drabble: 🥢

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #fanfic writing #fanficwriter #skz imagines #skz fanfic #lee felix #felix x reader #stray kids felix #kpop #kpop fanfic #stay

[cinefairy]

colourfulness.

ADD COLOUR. ADD A RHYTHM. ADD A BEAT.

colour is not something that always has to relate to things we can see with our physical eye or a literal colour e.g red.

ADD COLOUR • realisation of the beauty in ordinary life, small moments, the wistful nature of life.

i personally like to perceive colour as in-tune with life. colour is everywhere i go, it’s there when i wake up and i open the window for the breeze to enter and take me by it’s hands. it awakens me when i feel glum, colour is when there when i laugh so hard, when i eat my favourite foods, when i enjoy my favourite films. its seeps through the cracks of joy that i experience and comes to witness it.

realising the beauty of the mind & life is colour

to me colour is what makes my world light up, it is something i will never let go of.

ADD A RHYTHM • implement pockets of love, do something for the sake of doing it. change the pattern.

"Look at you. You're young. And you're scared. Why are you so scared? Stop being paralyzed. Stop swallowing your words. Stop caring what other people think. Wear what you want. Say what you want. Listen to the music you want to listen to. Play it loud as fuck and dance to it. Go out for a drive at midnight and forget that you have school the next day. Stop waiting for Friday. Live now. Do it now. Take risks. Tell secrets. This life is yours. When are you going to realise that you can do whatever you want?" — Louise Flory

adding a beat is vital. there comes a point in life where there is a empty hole, we sometimes grieve over that empty hole as it wasn’t always a hole- at one point in our lives it was filled with something great. and when we lose that certain great thing it’s hard to get back up again & in that moment you have to realise that you can implement pockets of love. you can do it any area of your life, my personal way is by making a warm bowl of porridge with strawberries, honey & dried fruit to fill me up because it’s love. learning to take a break and to prevent myself from feeling drained out constantly is love. telling myself that everything will eventually be okay is love.

we can always change the pattern in our lives. WE ARE NOT STUCK!! YOU ARE NOT STUCK!! we do not have to be the person we are if we dont want to be, if we feel stagnant we can become fluid. if i want to get up one day and change my style, my mind, my hobbies. I CAN! i can. i absolutely can.

ADD A BEAT • implement pockets of love, do something for the sake of doing it. change the pattern.

“I did not give to anyone the responsibility for my life. It is mine. I made it. And can do what I want to with it. Live it. Give it back, someday, without bitterness, to the wild and weedy dunes.” — Mary Oliver

something i had to re-discover was life and no not the timetable planner life with everything sorted but just life. in itself. life is rigid, it has its sharp edges. but it also has it’s softness and vulnerability. it welcomes me with open arms and it will not let me go.

life shall continue. i cant stop it, it’ll only continue. now i can either let life pass me by and watch by the sidelines or jump in and take hold of what i want my future to look like.

I choose the latter.

and i give myself everything— every tiny little thing i could possibly want i give myself the feeling of that without any residue of guilt, embarrassment or unworthiness.

I ask myself “what would i like to be?” and answer it in FEELING. I accept the joy, the blissfulness, the warm essence of my imagination and i live in it. I LIVE IN IT.

summary:

adding a bit of colour (the simplicity of life) adding a beat (doing what you love) and adding rhythm (giving what we deeply want to ourselves) are like the ingredients to life. they’ll teach you, make you question, make you think. they’re all equally beautiful as individuals but together can change everything including your perspective on what matters & what doesn’t.

#law of assumption #manifestation #affirmations #dream life #manifesting #neville goddard #life goals #success story #law of attraction #peace and love #romanticizing life #self improvement #self care #self concept

[illusivedark]

𝕒𝕔𝕥 𝕧. 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕦𝕒𝕝 𝕟𝕠𝕟-𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕥

》 series mlist

》 lee minho

》 mature/explicit sexual content

》 7.5k

》 kink is negotiated off-screen, blanket consent, penetrative sex, no barrier method+creampie, consensual non-consent, infidelity roleplay, drugging roleplay, dirty talk, themes of free-use, themes of dominant/submissive powerplay, humiliation, oral sex (m+f), light face fucking, cum play, cum eating, spitting, themes of salirophilia, rough sex, light choking, light hair pulling, possession play, pet names, themes of degradation, safe word usage.

Waking in the morning, the apartment you notice still faintly smells of the dinner made from the evening prior: sautéed onions and a perfectly cooked garlic veggie — typically not something pleasant to rise to, but now serving as something of a reminder of all of the ways in which last night was magical.

The morning sunlight gently peeks in through the slanting of the blinds, but the text message sent to your boss about your inability to come in today after all has long since been sent hours ago.

Beside you, Minho stirs to flip over and face you, though you can tell he's been somewhat awake for a while now on account of how late in the morning it is and an impressively capable internal clock that keeps him very much in tuned with his own employment schedule.

Smiling gently, barely cracked eyes fall upon your face and matched only by the feathering of the back of his knuckles over your cheek.

"So then—" he starts, smile transforming into something you're all too familiar with. Pleasant defeat paired with his happy acceptance of being wrong in his initial understanding of how the arrangement between the two of you might play out in the end.

"Tell me what you want to do."

Breakfast is light. Minho insists he wants to take you out to some fancy lunch spot just down the street that has only recently opened and looks to have a promising assortment of bagels, but the better part of you wants to just stay inside and bask in the enjoyment of each other. Thankfully, he relents easily — he always sort of has, and now with most of the pieces having fallen together in such a way, you're beginning to understand exactly why that is.

It's not necessarily that Minho has always been in love with you — at least, not in the typical sense that people might assume upon being met with the details of the circumstances shared between you. You understand it well because you realize that you also reside in much of the same boat of only recently coming to any sort of reasoning in regards to it.

The other ingredients have always been there, but without the secret spice, it's simply never melded together like this before now.

To say it isn't about the sex would be somewhat flippant in deconstruction. Obviously it is somewhat about the sex, and to imply otherwise would be grossly underestimating how much of that has played a part in where the two of you stand with each other now. Still, Minho was seeking sexual exploration that offered him a sort of intimacy, trust and love that couldn't otherwise be traversed without as much. You granted it to him willingly, happily — perhaps even a bit more enthusiastically than he had ever truly anticipated. Maybe it was always meant to be once the pieces were finally allowed to fall into their respective, kinky places.

"Fine, we can stay in, but I do want to go to that place soon." Minho says with a disappointed sigh. You might think him to be truly upset about your unwillingness to leave if not for the fact that the man barely dressed even now, and obviously in no rush to up and leave his apartment, either.

"Of course, darling. Anything for you."

Coffee finishes brewing, and Minho turns only enough to vaguely wave an empty mug at you in some sort of pointing gesture.

"You keep saying that, but who knows what other crazy shit I have waiting up my sleeve."

Sprawled out on the couch just across the way from the kitchen, you smile to yourself.

"Says the guy who was absolutely beside himself at the mere mention of doing something that wasn't perfectly by the book as he saw it."

He sighs loudly, as if this chink in his armor meant to remain forever as a mark against his kinky ledger.

"Is this about the cutting you thing!? Seriously? It was fine! I did it, didn't I? You can't hold that against me forever, I'm about to tie you to my bedpost and not let you out for a week if you keep taunting me about my mixed bag of depravity."

"Ooh," you sing-song in response, not at all worried about such a thing. "And then what?"

"You are so annoying."

"And you love me for it, apparently."

Minho crosses the living room area to meet you then; two mugs in hand and setting both down on the table just in front. You sit yourself up to allow him space beside you and are met just as quickly with the press of his lips to your temple. The offering of affection outside of the realm of anything sexual is new — sending your chest and stomach into a whirlwind of effervescence and giddy delight in a way that you're not quite sure has ever existed prior, or if it has only cropped up now, in recent times.

His hand finds yours, and slotting his fingers between your own, he presses his forehead against the side of your head like a cat nudging his owner for attention. You turn to meet him, and with eyes matched, Minho's lips curl into a grin.

"So, I guess you're stuck with me now, and a bit more than wild sex and late night burrito runs after work, huh?"

The implications have your stomach doing summersaults, but you want to try to play it cool. As if you haven't been thinking about this since the night he had you tied up and at his whims, anyway.

"I guess so," you answer. "I imagine the relationship model is going to have to be a whole separate conversation, though. You don't mind me having sex with other people it seems like, but I don't know how I feel about you continuing to date from this moment forward if we're going to…like…do this."

Minho pulls back suddenly, evident confusion turning his expression.

"I'm not going to keep dating other people," he says, remedying the concern. "What we do together, with other people — like what we did with Hyunjin, for example — is just that; something that we do together. If you don't want to do that again then we don't have to, for all intents and purposes, the itch has been scratched for me, but as fun as that was, it has no bearing on my desire to continue seeking out and dating other women."

It makes sense, you're unsure why you assumed as much, anyway.

However, you are curious.

"What if I did want to see Hyunjin again?"

Minho dives forward, kissing you in what is ultimately a short, simple showing of affection. A peck on the lips — but his smile afterwards says everything, anyway.

"Then we see Hyunjin again."

"Okay," you nod. Minho's tall, handsome friend being far from what is intended to be on the agenda today, however. Holding his hand tightly and offering a gentle squeeze, the two of your gazes meet together once more, but this time, the look of mischief takes your features rather than his own.

"That's not what I wanna talk about, though."

Sighing dramatically, Minho falls backwards against the length of the couch, kicking his legs up and over your lap with his arm swinging over to cover his face.

"I know, tell me all of the ways in which you wish to use me, Your Highness. I live to serve you."

"I'm a little reluctant to believe that you can even handle it, especially after last night’s display."

You're being purposefully competitive with him, an attempt to playfully rile him up. It appears to be working with how his arm shifts upwards to allow him the ability to glance down and towards you after the trying words escape your lips.

"Oh, really?" he questions suspiciously. "I am humored by the fact that you think it'll be hard to get me to want to ravage you. Like I haven't been hopelessly addicted to your pussy for weeks now."

Cocking your head to the side, one eyebrow pops upwards similarly. 

"But I've never told you 'no.'"

"Well then," he sighs, and you can't help but catch the light hint of reluctance in the sound.

"What do you have in mind?"

Minho's calling out of work doesn't go as easily as yours does, and as a result, you find yourself left to your devices in the welcoming comfort of the man's lavish apartment. Really, there's everything you could ever need here already: a full fridge, plenty to drink of the alcoholic as well as non-alcoholic assortment, as well as bookshelves and technology rife with entertainment for as long as you could possibly imagine.

Truth is, however, that you're bored, and it's only once you hear the telling click of the door being unlocked that that boredom falls to the wayside once more.

Thankfully, Minho was only requested to the office for a few hours to finish up some project tasks sitting heavily on a quickly upcoming deadline, so once he returns at just a bit after five in the afternoon, even his attire is telling of such: a button down shirt not entirely done up, no tie, and a pair of slacks that he didn't even bother grabbing a belt to accommodate before heading out.

"Miss me?" he says, shutting the door behind him. "Surely you were wasting away without my delightful presence."

You roll your eyes, still laid out across the couch and with television lowly playing in the background. "Truth be told, I forgot you were even gone."

"Don't be like that," he says with a frown, kicking his shoes off before making his way towards the kitchen. "Let me make it up to you. Drink?"

An exaggerated sigh escapes from between your lips, but of course, you relent. "Fine."

As Minho makes his way back over to you, you sit up in place and scoot just slightly to make space for him. He plops himself down, though cognizant of the glasses of liquid in hand as he does so, and gesturing one towards you, he sips carefully from his own with eyes glued to the rim of your own glass as you do the same.

"Just so you know, I might have to go back out tonight. There's a work thing downtown that, while not required of me, it looks good if I attend."

Your attention perks up, it's your first time hearing about this, and especially now on a night that was meant to be between the two of you and very much enjoying the rush of new relationship energy, you can't help but think it feels something…bizarre.

And intuition sure has its way about it.

"Sort of last minute," you dryly reply, not wanting to be too adamant yet but your unwillingness for him to go. "Can I come at least?"

Minho shifts somewhat awkwardly where he sits, you can tell he's trying not to let it show, but you know him too well to not catch onto it. He takes another sip from his glass before speaking.

"I don't think so, it's really just a thing between colleagues."

Eyes washing over him, taking in every hint of whatever it is that he is giving off in the moment, your aforementioned intuition eventually does land on something, though you're none too thrilled about what that thing is.

He's suspicious, and more than that, actively keeping something from you.

You take another sip, though you're not particularly in the mood for drinking right now and set the glass onto the table with finality before speaking once again.

"Why are you being so weird about this?" you ask. It's a question that under normal circumstances would have Minho playfully flying off the handle about how is it that he's acting any kind of way, but rather than that, he remains near idly in place — staring ahead as if never having heard the words from you at all.

A dead giveaway, whether he knows it or not.

"I'm not being weird about anything," he finally answers after many moments passing. Minho sets his glass on the table as well, then makes an effort to push closer towards you with one arm wrapping tightly around your waist as if intended to be a diversion tactic. "Come on, don't make tonight more difficult than it already has to be! I don't want to go either."

Nuzzling into your neck with his face, it's only then that you catch a hint of fragrance that you've never smelled before. Not belonging to him, and most certainly not belonging to you. Your heart sinks, and while your visceral, physical reaction is to recoil, you remain within his grasp all while considering what it is that you really wish to do now.

But you have to say something, and say something you shall.

"You smell like another woman," you say, words plain and lacking any emotional tell. It's not questioning or even accusatory but rather an insistence of a fact. "Is that where you've been? Where you're going?"

Pulling away from him only enough to get a visual on his reaction, he barely does at all, but the light and ever so slight annoyed fluttering of his eyelashes tells you everything it is that you need to know, regardless of what it is that falls from his deceitful lips. 

"Do you really want to ruin this evening?" he asks first, holding onto you tightly still and closing the distance between your faces again to press a light kiss to your lips. "Ruin what we have going for us when it's so, so good?"

You hate how easy it is to fall into the routine with him, though you've never actually hated it until right now.

Nipping lightly at your bottom lip, Minho's mouth slots over your own and kisses you like you're the only other person in the entire world. Melting into him is simple, and it feels so right even with the newfound information of everything being entirely the opposite of the way that you're feeling with him right now. There's a shooting, stinging pain in your chest that serves as a reminder that everything leading up to these moments now has been, in some way, a lie — that this isn't real, and that none of the words shared between the two of you have been, either. Still, the desire to have and be had by him holds so strongly onto your being that as Minho motions for you to fall backwards against the cushioning of his sofa, you can't find it in yourself to deny him as much.

He tastes like the liquor shared between the both of you, but somewhere in there you try to locate the taste of whoever she is, as well.

A lazy t-shirt of his that you've been lounging in pulled up and over your head, discarded on the floor nearby with sweatpants pulled from your limbs to follow, Minho's movements are rushed and needy in a way that you're not quite used to. In ways, he feels something of a stranger, and you can't help but wonder if this is what she likes, and he just hasn't had the time to make the switch back to cater to you yet. The more you think about it, the more it makes your stomach turn; you love him — desperately and deeply — the thought of going on without him in your life and towards the life together that prior to now you had thought was agreed upon feeling like hands tightly wound along your throat.

He knew you weren't willing to share him with others, and he agreed as much. He couldn't even wait a day.

Quick to unbutton his pants as he sits knelt between your legs, lips that travel down your neck and settle harshly against your skin — you come to the sudden conclusion that as much as you want to have him, you can't. Not like this. Pressing palms up and against his shoulders, you gently push him up and off of you with a slight shake of your head.

"Don't, I can't."

The resistance seems to come as something of a shock, and he stops all movement entirely.

"What? Why?"

You can't help but scoff at the absurdity of the question, as if it isn't obvious. "You think I want to have sex with you knowing you've been with someone else today? You think I can't tell? It's written all over your face, your body language. You smell of her. I told you what I wanted out of a relationship with you and the second that you're out of my sight you go and do exactly that."

Minho's eyebrows knit together, though you can't quite parse whether it's confusion or anger. Maybe something in between, because he goes right back to his positioning atop you as before and carries on kissing, biting and sucking marks into the delicate flesh of your neck.

"She doesn't mean anything, it was a last time thing," he whispers against you in between nips of skin. "Now why don't you be good for me, like you always have been—"

His tone drops then, something far more dark and menacing laced into the words, but before you have much of a chance to think anything of it, his hand comes up to your mouth and forces two fingers between your lips. Nothing out of the ordinary as far as sexual play goes between you — but it's only when you catch the presence of a tiny capsule that your blood immediately begins to run cold beneath your skin.

You have no choice but to swallow it around the intrusion in your mouth, and Minho pulls away just as quickly to pull you upright by an arm and quickly usher you back into the bedroom.

"What the fuck was that!?" you spit, but you're met with little more than a harsh push from the man that has you stumbling further towards the destination.

"Don't worry about it," he says with little care as the both of you enter the doorway. Bringing a hand up and to the back of your neck, Minho brings you even further across the way and towards the bed, finalizing the effort with another swift push of your body towards the mattress below. Then, his fingers slowly work at the buttons of his work shirt as his eyes cast down towards your form. "You'll find out soon enough. See, if you could just cooperate then I wouldn't have to resort to such extreme measures."

"You drugged me?" 

Minho shrugs. "It's really a last ditch effort. I like it a lot more when you're pliable, docile — my little toy for me to do with what I wish and when I wish to but I think I've given you a little bit too much room to be flexible, and I think as a result of that, you've forgotten who this little arrangement is really meant to serve."

Lying on the bed and looking up at him, you think to yourself how up until now, his acting left a lot to be desired. Not great at selling the cheating story, and not particularly great at selling the whole pushing himself onto you thing back in the living room, either — granted, you know he's never quite done this sort of thing before — but at least now, in this moment, he feels just a bit more in his element. Perhaps he's finally getting the hang of this whole roleplaying thing. You're thankful, because it was getting difficult to ignore his lacking in as much before.

His lustful, sinister gaze certainly helps move things along, paired with the perfect (albeit, ironic) delivery of the monologue just now. Give him an Oscar, the two of you might just get through this scene, after all.

As the remainder of Minho's garments fall to the floor, the elbows propping you up to look at him give way beneath your weight. "My limbs feel so heavy and numb, I can barely feel them."

"Yeah, that's the point," he says with a tone just as even as before. "If you're going to be difficult, then you leave me with no other option than to force you to be more malleable—"

Pulling your legs to be spread apart, Minho positions himself between them with a single finger gently prodding at your already slickened folds. His eyes then roll up to meet your own again.

"Just like you were always meant to be."

Squirming slightly beneath his touch, you try to bite back the moan that threatens to bubble up from your throat as he pushes two fingers inside of you — carefully pumping and curling at just the right spot to have your back arching off the bed. Your want for him makes it too easy, makes the game hard to play like this because it's so obvious to the both of you that you crave him, and in ways, no amount of playing pretend is going to offset that fact.

How are you meant to say no even as a lie, when you very, very much mean yes?

Removing his hand, Minho inches forward and closes the distance between both sets of your hips — one hand slowly caressing the soft skin of your torso on it's way up to settle at your neck. He grips you firmly there as his other hand clasps at the base of his cock, and lining himself up to enter you, you clasp your eyes shut and find it within yourself to attempt to wriggle out of his grasp just that much more.

As the blunt, wet tip of him pushes in and pries you apart for him, you manage to do it. Manage to get the word out after all. In spite of everything.

"No, stop!" you whine. "Minho, don't!"

The hand around your neck quickly comes up to cover your mouth as he sinks into you just that much harder, that much quicker after your protest against it. Despite being fully sheathed, you feel him dig his hips into you hard, as if doing everything in his power to fill your body with as much of his cock as you can possibly take. Whimpering around the palm of his hand, you sound and feel pathetic, but even more than that; you feel impossibly full and even beyond that, a kind of aroused that you've never fathomed ever experiencing with a sexual partner.

Pulling back to just the tip and snapping his hips forward against you, you whine out from under him again. This level of submissiveness — the willingness to relent all power to him — and even beyond that, his carnal desire to take it from you, has you reeling from below him. With eyes tightly shut, you take in the feeling of being had in such a way, wanted so desperately that he has no other option but to do whatever it takes to acquire it. Minho's need for your body.

"There you go," he grits out through clenched teeth. Staring down at your face as you have no other option but to take his cock however it is that he wishes to give it to you. "See? You're taking it so well. Isn't it better when you just do what you're meant to do and give in?"

Three, four more hard drives into you and you begin to feel the familiar coiling of release in your gut. You're truly allowing yourself to enjoy the fantasy — the moment of make believe perfectly orchestrated between two lovers — that is, until…

"Octopus."

Minho stills, and his hand falls away from your mouth just as suddenly. Eyes flashing open, you make quick work of focusing in on his face; he doesn't appear to be particularly distressed, or displeased about the goings on. 

Granted, you knew this would be hard for him to play out without a single hitch.

"What's wrong?" you ask, arms suddenly finding life in the aftermath of the scene and allowing your hands to trace up the length of his own biceps. "Too much?"

"Uh, checking in?" he says, though there's questioning to his tone as if not entirely sure, himself. "You know, hand over your mouth so, it's not like you could say the safe word if you wanted."

Part of you wants to chuckle, because there's a particular charm to the whole thing. You fight it back in favor of approaching it productively, however. "I know babe, but we have the three taps for that, remember? Three taps on the bed or on you to let you know to stop when I can't talk?"

"Yeah, yeah you're right. I know. I just wanted to like—" Minho pauses, squinting as if cycling through his own thoughts in real time to try to figure out how it is that the both of you arrived at this particular set of circumstances. "Make sure."

He doesn't say it, not explicitly, but you suppose that being such close friends up until now has given you very particular insight into the man's brain. Minho begins to settle back into position to carry on with the scene, but before he does, you extend a hand out to cup his face. The gentle affection has his attention turning back towards you, and when your eyes meet once more, it's really that moment that you're able to see the true reluctance that rests so heavily on his mind through every second and every motion of this particular fictional instance.

You smile with the slightest of curls to the corners of your lips, and bringing that same hand up to card through wavy black hair, you sigh with acceptance.

"You don't like it, do you?" you ask simply. "Hearing the 'no.' You can't get past it, can you?"

Minho's head falls weightlessly in defeat, and a breathy chuckle falls from his lips.

"It's honestly a miracle that I'm even still hard right now. The willpower it has taken to manifest this erection…you may never really know."

"We don't have to, don't force it just for me."

He sighs heavily again.

"I want to, like I want to be able to get there someday, but yeah, it's a lot. A lot right off the bat, at least."

Hand slipping to the back of his head, you pull his face down and towards your own for a kiss that is all things in one; passionate, compassionate, loving, thankful, and everything else in between. You know that deep down, Minho wants nothing more than to grant you the same gift that you've granted him through all of these other instances. He wants to be able to perform, to be with you and take you on a journey much the same as how he has been able to through you. 

But sexuality and kink isn't transactional, and can't be treated as such, either. Minho's desire to be everything for you just as you have for him can never be at the expense of himself, or his own comforts. You know this, and deep down, you know that he does, also. Perhaps it's something that the two of you can work towards in the future — through more communication and probably some baby steps towards it. The mental block towards hearing someone’s reluctance to engage in sex with you far from a shocking turn-off for many people.

Some things simply make it feel far too real for people. Your mileage may vary.

Once satisfied with the taste of him, your fingers curl into the soft, black tresses and pull him back away from your face once more. Minho winces into the touch, though the spirit of his arousal seems to be ever so slightly reignited as a result of it, as well, and through narrow, devilish eyes he glares down at you as if awaiting your further command.

"Then why don't we just have things your way?"

The wanting throb of his cock can be felt at that, still pressed snug between your walls before pulling back and sending another hard drive of himself into your tight, wet heat. Sitting up proper between your legs and with knees firmly planted into the mattress below, Minho positions each of your legs on either side of him before slipping hands down to settle at the dips of your waist and fastening firm purchase there for pulling you down hard along his length with every forward press of his hips in time.

Groaning at the feeling of having you like this, it feels reminiscent in all of the right ways: still feeling something powerless in the grasp of him as he pulls you down to be pried apart on his cock, the drag of him so thick and firm feels like it's scratching an itch that you've never quite encountered before, and with the budding resurrection of your orgasm on the horizon, you whimper out for him to fuck you harder, faster — with more of himself and as much as he can possibly give you — and he is all too happy to oblige.

"Look how well you take my dick," he says, and this time with much more conviction than the time prior. "You're so fucking wet, bet if I wanted to fuck you in the ass I'd slip right in, huh?"

Gripping into the sheets below, you think back to being fucked full of both Minho and Hyunjin at the same time — a memory that you've kept with you late into the hours of private nights alone and will most certainly continue to recall — you whimper out at the thought of it only for your mouth to be stuffed full of Minho's fingers once more. Gently fucking them into your mouth, you close your lips around him whilst offering the intended glide and swirl of your tongue against the tips of his fingers.

"That's right baby, pretend it's my cock," Minho whispers, eyes glued to the way your lips wrap around him as he slowly fucks your mouth with his hand. "Gonna fill up this pretty little pussy with my cum, and then when I'm finished you're going to be real good for me and clean it up, aren't you?"

You nod as best you can, an affirmative moan slipping out from around the intrusion before Minho leans forward as much as he can given the positioning, offering one, simple demand from you.

"Open your mouth."

Finger hooking into your bottom row of teeth to pry your jaw apart, Minho slowly allows for a small collection of saliva pooled in his mouth to fall the short distance into your own, and instead of demanding of you to close just after, his fingers go back to work in fucking themselves between your lips that have already lazily tightened back around them for the lewd, pseudo-blowjob as previously partaken in.

Mildly distracted before, Minho focuses once again at the matter at hand and delivers hard, quick snaps of his hips onto you — every drive of his cock along your walls bringing you closer and closer to the edge of coming around him. He must feel it too, every drag of himself inside of you feeling ever so slightly faltered compared to the last, with hands far too busy impaling you onto himself, Minho tucks his lip up tightly between his lips before making his next demand of you.

"Wanna watch you touch yourself," he says, breathy and nearly wholly fucked out himself. "Make yourself come on my cock, lemmie see how bad you want it."

Well, don't have to ask you twice.

Quick to bring a hand between your legs and barely after he even finishes the sentence, you quickly rub against yourself and just above where he buries himself inside of your body. He feels impossibly thick like this, just as you do full of him, and you barely have to put any extra work into the motion at all before Minho is chuckling at how pathetically desperate you are to bring yourself over the edge despite teetering so closely along it.

But when you finally manage to do so, it feels as though every muscle in your body clamps down in preparation for the full-body, shaking orgasm to rushes through every nerve ending beneath your skin. Minho diligently fucks you through it to the best of his ability, though unable to stave off his own release for much longer in the aftermath of your own as he groans loudly and hardly bitten back at all through the initial wave of his finishing — riding out the feeling of your cunt milking him as you come clamped down around him and unloading deeply inside of you with every last drop.

Much to your surprise, Minho very much intends on following through with his version of the events as they should play out. He only allows himself to bask in the moment for a short while before carefully pulling himself from your soiled folds and slipping himself down to a knelt position onto the floor at the edge of the bed. Strong hand fastening at the backs of your knees and pulling you towards his face, he's quick to press the flat of his tongue right where his cock just had been, lapping and sucking at the mixture of fluids shared and mingling between the two of you as you whine at the overstimulation of him doing so.

"You taste perfect like this," he utters in between, right back at work for what feels like an eternity before finally pulling away with finality. He looks over your wet, cum soaked pussy — the flat of his fingers gliding over the milky clear drip of your vulva with ease. "This is how you should always look, fucked full of my cum, drenched in me."

Reeling at the thought, the words — much in typical Lee Minho fashion when he's in his sexual element like this, you aren't given much time to think over a reasonable response before the man is on the move towards his next endeavor, and standing himself to his feet, he reaches down to pull you up into a seated position with semi-erect cock in hand as he languidly strokes over himself just in front of your face with the remaining essence of the debauchery taken part in just before.

Looking up at him, he looks far from sated with dark, narrow eyes that tell a story of a man who is far from finished with you — you couldn't be happier with the fact, either.

"Now do your job," he says sternly, thumb and middle finger holding the base of his length in position for your lips to part to take the tip of him. "How about you show me how thankful you are for how much of a good job I've done at making a mess of you?"

Lips parting, you happily take him into your mouth before he even has the chance to find purchase in the hair atop your head. His fingers grip tightly, smoothly but purposefully dragging your lips along the length of him, and moaning around the heavy girth that weighs along your tongue, you can feel his cock once more come to full hardness as a result of the diligent, warm offering of your mouth around him.

Hands coming up along the smooth of his muscular thighs, your palms settle flat against his hips as he gently begins to fuck into your mouth as if you're silently urging him to do so. You can't take it all, the both of you know this, but Minho makes no effort to attempt to force you to do so — no, the scene is already perfectly set as it is, and your ability, whatever that may be, always sitting perfectly plentiful and in line with any and everything he could ever possibly want from you.

To feel powerless while wholly being in power. Minho only ever really wants to play pretend, knowing full and well that the onus always and entirely lie with you.

One hand coming around to take his cock into your hand, the other continues its travels upwards to feel the subtle definition of his abdomen and the muscle that lie beneath, and pulling off of him by mouth, you instead replace the feeling with the tight and deliberate stroke of your fist along him — wet, head of his length placed just atop your extended tongue with mouth hanging open as if awaiting your next prize.

"God, fuck—" he whispers at the sight, and it feels something like a break in the tough, dominating façade. You've never quite broken him, though you've never exactly tried, either. The scene ends when it's over and then everything goes back to normal. Perhaps you've stumbled upon something previously unexplored.

You wonder how far you can take it, but the two of you have a long journey and much exploration together to look forward to. There's no rush to check all of the boxes now.

Minho's fingers tighten just that much more into your hair, and you feel the muscles under your touch tighten. You wonder if you can get him to come again with such quick succession. A large feat, but seemingly entirely in your grasp as of now.

Breaths getting more ragged and moans fighting to choke out from his throat, Minho's head falls backwards briefly before being forced back up to look down towards you. A mixture of amazement and disbelief in his expression as he sits on what you think to be the precipice of his second orgasm, Minho shifts his hips backwards suddenly but only so that he can bend down to kiss you deeply, hungrily. Thumb catching in your mouth again to spit into it once more — messier, far less controlled than the first time — and then quickly standing tall and pushing his cock back between your lips to fuck himself into the warmth offered there.

"Gonna make me come again," he nearly whimpers, and you've never seen him quite this lacking in restraint. "Fuck, yeah baby, don't stop—"

Hand stroking in time with the bobbing of your head along his cock, Minho drags his free hand down to cup at the underside of your jaw as if needing to hold your face still to adequate drive into. 

"Can you take it? Can you take it for me?" he all but babbles helplessly as he desperately chases his second release, nearly begging for your ability to handle him in his uninhibited mission to achieve it. You hum around him in an attempt to signify your enthusiastic willingness, and you suppose that to be all of the help that he needs; a loud, strong, and nearly pained sounding groan ripping from some place deeply nestled in his chest just before, Minho delivers two, three more drives of his thick, heavy cock into your mouth before stilling just near the very back of your throat and holding your head tightly in place along him for him to empty himself into.

The load isn't particularly full on account of it being the second in such a short amount of time, but for that you are thankful on account of how far back he is in your mouth when he comes. He must know it too, perhaps getting a little carried away with himself and realizing immediately upon releasing, because he pulls from between your lips rather quickly instead of basking in the moment as he might typically in other such circumstances.

Looking up towards him from where you remain, his chest heaves in an effort to catch his breath, and carding a hand through sweaty, dampened hair, his eyes drop down towards you once again only to find your head craned back, and the whitish-transluscent remainder of his cum pooled on your tongue and lightly running down the sides of your mouth.

You think that if there were ever to be a moment where you could see something snap in his brain, this would be the one.

Falling to his knees like a man utterly destroyed by the sights before him, Minho cradles your face in both of his hands before pulling your filthy mouth in for an even messier, filthier kiss. A man desperate to taste every inch of your insides, kissing you like the last breath of oxygen reside in you and you alone, when he pulls back and your eyes meet once more — the erotic, lustful disposition has seemingly long since left him, and all that remains instead is the idyllic adoration of you. 

"You're disgusting," he says first, though it causes the both of you to laugh before he continues on with the thought. "And amazing, and perfect, and I'll do anything it takes to give you every gift that you've given me, just please don't make me pretend to cheat on you, I hate that so much."

Unable to contain your laughter at his confession, you wrap your arms around his head and pull him tightly against you for a loving embrace.

"Okay, deal." you relent, melting into the feeling of his arms coming up and fastening snugly around your body in turn. "Where did you get that perfume, anyway? It was rancid."

"I just sprayed something from the little corner store along the way, I didn't exactly have a lot of time. Was I meant to stop into the department store and put on some Dior?"

You huff out another laugh, forgoing any verbal reply. Minho pulls back only enough to be able to glance up towards you once more.

"What an incredible waste of time it's been, hasn't it?" he says, and though vague, you understand precisely what it is that he's referring to. 

Time spent, time lost. Time existing around each other yet wholly oblivious to the signs.

"We still managed to come around though, didn't we? If you'd asked me three months ago over a regular hook up if you could spit in my mouth I probably would have punched you."

"I never did ask."

Rolling your eyes and ignoring the obvious, you gently push him back to fall onto his behind, Minho lazily following through with it and allowing himself to be laid out entirely across his bedroom floor, still entirely spent in the aftermath of the sex had.

"Are you going to feed me or have I killed you and now must fend for myself?"

"Just don't eat the cats, they don't deserve that," he answer back, arm lazily slung up and over his face in his feigned-deceased display. "But I guess it's the least I can do for you sucking my soul out of my body through my dick." 

You stand with intent to head towards the bathroom for a shower, but Minho reaches out to grasp at your ankle before you're able to escape.

"Hey."

You pause, looking down at the ridiculous display beside you.

"I meant what I said yesterday," he admits, a firmness to his voice not before present in the playfulness of the tone of conversation. Your heart beats a particular way at the words, but you try not to make it too obvious that you've been hopeful and waiting.

"We've wasted a lot of time being friends, I've got some serious making up to do—"

There's silence then, you wait for him to finish only for the man to dramatically roll his eyes and abruptly sit himself up once more.

"God, you're really gonna make me say it again? I'm in love with you! There! It's not a big deal."

"You're cute when you're not trying to act so tough, how you manage to play so domineering during sex, I'll never understand."

"Deep inner strength," he cheerfully says, standing once more and slinging an arm up around your shoulders to pull you close. "Now say you love me back or I won't tell you to suck my cock anymore, maybe I'll just start asking if everything I do is okay. 'Would it be alright if you gave me head—'"

"Dear God," you whine, already somewhat regretful of your life choices going forward. "You are so annoying."

"Say it!" he chimes back cutely.

And maybe if you weren't so sure of the fact, it would be easier to withhold from him, but unfortunately for you and very much fortunately for the man in question — there is at least one thing that you know without a shadow of a doubt.

Him.

"I love you, okay? Now can we please get cleaned up, I have cum and spit all over me."

"Just how I like you."

If the words weren't annoying enough, then him punctuating them with a playful slap to your bare ass certainly serves to be.

Little does he know, all of his habits serve as precisely the collection of reasoning for why you've fallen so irrevocably for him. Never a project, and not in need of fixing.

Lee Minho is perfect just as he is. 

#lee know smut #lee minho smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #lee minho x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n

[the-owl-tree]

Tell me about your non fandom ocs

i've mentioned them twice but my supervillain gals are always rotating in my brain. i'm horrendous at drawing action, superhero gear, and clothes in general so i don't draw them as much as i'd like to (though i am trying to improve on those fronts) but that doesn't stop me from imagining a shit ton of lore for them

okay quick summary for everyone: Charlotte and Ridley are wannabe villains attempting to become big name villains in their city. They live in a society where superpowers exist and becoming a hero (and a villain) is an actual occupation! They are also all furries because animals rule thank you. I am trying to develop this to reflect my own tastes because at the moment, it does resemble sci-fi furry worm and i'd like to make it its own thing.

now. get lore dumped (and i guess a guide to make your own furry hero/villain in this world?).

Powers

As mentioned, powers are a normal thing in this world! While not entirely common, it's not a rare or surprising occurrence to have multiple powered up folks within one city. In fact, the setting of this story and where the main cast lives is considered the superpower capitol of the world due in part to it homing the League of United Heroes (or LOUH for short. working on the name, these are not my strong suit lol).

Powers can manifest in different ways with the most common to least common being:

Inherited biologically (it's not uncommon for superhero/supervillain familial lines to dominate the scenes thanks to this)

Manifested due to an intense emotional reaction, usually through a traumatic event (surprise surprise, villains outnumber the heroes for a reason)

Manifest later in age (Uncommon)

Just "appear" (incredibly rare, research still hasn't figured out why this happens)

Powers can also be further classified on how they interact with the world, with oftentimes power being divided between the ability to create ("Inherents") versus those who need preexisting material to use their powers ("Dependants"). Charlotte (Villain name: Spellbrewer) is the latter, her magic requires she use ingredients to create her trademark brews. Ridley (Villain name: Copycat) is also classified as the latter, though there is some debate if it's correct, as her power relies on her ability to copy an outsider superhero's power in order to use it. The slang for this is akin to talking about your belly button lol "are you an innie or an outie?"

This is further divided as you go, with Inherents having classifications such as:

"Espers" - those with powers that either enhance or discombobulate both the user and victim's mental states.

"still need a catchy name for this one but Physically Enhanced" - any powers that fall under physical enhancements such as super speed, super strength, etc.

"Matter Manipulation" - Another catch all term for those who can manipulate various elements such as rock, fire, etc.

Individuals with multiple powers do exist, but they're mostly common in those from a lineage of powers, especially if both parents are powered individuals themselves. It is incredibly rare for an individual without that genetic link to manifest multiple powers (but not impossible!).

There's more and some are more difficult to classify than others (Mercenary Whiplash (real name unknown) is a weasel with a unique luck based power, where he is somehow able to manipulate outcomes of battles to his favor).

Powers are mandatory to register, though that doesn't mean they're always easy to keep track of. Lots of powered individuals slip under the cracks and manage to keep out of the system.

Those that are registered are assigned a "risk" rating (a 1-10 scale from minimal risk to highly dangerous) and those that aren't heroes or villains are often assigned a caretaker to check in on them weekly, monthly, or yearly depending on their risk rating. This system is not good, it is a well known secret that this dynamic has lead to unequal relationships between caregiver and the individual they're assigned to with one of the main cast, a raven with a risk rating of 10, murdering their own "caregiver" (the story in particular centres around an abusive relationship and i want to tweak the details before i go too much into it).

Occupations

It isn't mandatory to be a hero or a villain if you have powers, lots of individuals are able to maintain normal work lives whilst having supernatural abilities. Capuchin monkey performer "Viridian" is known for her ability to shatter brick with a powerful scream, but still manages a successful career as a singer (with regular check ins from LOUH, it helps she has some connections to it as well). Juno, a giant cowbird reporter from a popular tabloid, also manages her very contagious powers through the use of gloves and a medical mask (and the fact that her power is unregistered but shush that's a secret).

Difficult for some? Yes. Impossible? Not at all.

But onto the meat of the story: the heroes and the villains. These are occupations you can go into, with different types and different ways to play the game. The "mainstream" heroes and villains are akin to wrestlers and heels, celebrities doing public performances to win public clout, maintain social order, and so on. Some villains are actually contracted by LOUH to "be defeated" to introduce new heroes. Of course, some heroes and villains are completely rogue.

Villains and heroes are rated on a 1-10 danger scale with 1-4 being the "beginner/mediocre" stage where it's alright to let the villains escape for the sake of more publicity/action, consider it the "not a threat, more of a nuisance" area; 5-7 is where heroes have to use their heads to decide whether or not to arrest or let them slip and where villains can get away with doing a little more damage; 8-10 is the danger zone, villains are to be arrested and/or killed if necessary. High risk, high reward.

It's also not mandatory for heroes and villains to have powers! There are a few individuals with no powers that have managed to make it in the business. Difficult, but not impossible!

Heroes

Heroes can work independently, as a registered team, or as "for-hire" muscle. However, most of them are registered with LOUH who assign them a team, a city, a ranking, and equipment. While not mandatory, most heroes tend to find their footing with LOUH first before going independent.

Not to say they can't be successful while independent. Caroline "Cotton" Ackerman (Codename: Hellhound) is an independent hero who's often contracted by LOUH to take down rank 8-10 supervillains who's powers often counter LOUH's top heroes. Caroline was responsible for taking down the infamous plant based villain Oleander, a sheep with a nasty habit of killing civilians in her mass destruction. Their rivalry and dynamic is wildly considered to be the most iconic and their fights would often kick up a whirlwind of media attention. Definitely hated each other, yep, definitely did not have the most insane sexual tension out there no sirree it was a very professional rivalry. they never made out in a closet idk what you're talking about.

Whilst registering with a broader hero group can help boost your chances of success, independent work has its perks! More freedom to control your image, less rules applied when working, and so on.

Independent hero teams also exist and are widely more successful than individuals. However, they're more prone to falling apart due to personal drama and stressors of hero life. Think of it as the group that start a band in high school, some of them are gonna make it but, uh...most of them won't and a lot of them will just be smaller less well known groups with moderate success.

The second most common method is registering with an organization. Most of these are smaller hero agencies that usually specialize in creating certain types of heroes. It's generally fairly easy to find an agency that matches the type of hero you want to be, whether it be one that's more of a celebrity, a charity worker, first responder, etc. etc. These organizations can vary on fees, with more prestigious ones costing more.

Of course, the biggest and most common is LOUH, in which all agencies share their data with in order to help it. While smaller agencies will pretty much take anyone, LOUH is more exclusive and often relies on scouting and applications. Potential LOUH official heroes have to take an entrance exam, a physical, do a background check, and on and on and on.

But the perks are worth it if you get in, LOUH does everything to produce the top heroes. They are the only agency with rank 8-10 heroes for a reason (and if you ignore that these rank 10 heroes are the children of other high ranking LOUH rank 10 heroes then it only seems super impressive). fun fact: charlotte's ex who she's definitely over and totally not pining for anymore is a rank 8 hero. not that charlotte cares or anything., she's definitely not mad about failing the entrance exams and then getting dumped no sirree.

Crime fighters aren't the only occupation for a hero, of course. Hero can describe "performers", a rank of hero that fights with villain heels in public performances to help boost morale. There are those enlisted to help fight natural disasters. Heroes with healing abilities are also big names! It isn't just beating up baddies, lots of alternatives with hero work!

Villains

The ones everyone likes to read about lol villains immensely overwhelm the heroes in terms of numbers. However, while heroes have a pretty robust support system to avoid burnout, villains commonly drop out of the line of work within months or even weeks. It's exhausting being hated, getting your ass kicked, or just failing. A lot.

But that doesn't mean there aren't those who stay in the game. Money, power, fame are all driving motivations for a lot of the villains within the city, especially the main duo. Charlotte's in it for fame and tabloids in this universe are more than happy to run stories about charismatic villains. Ridley's just in it for the money (and there is a lot to be made in this line of work).

Fun fact! These two are a rank 4 superhero team and have the additional classification as a "training wheels" opponent. Ridley's copycat abilities get stronger and more refined the more she copies an individual's powers, so it's in LOUH's best interest to constantly rotate teams to fight them whenever they act. However, since the two, at the beginning of the story, don't actually pose much of a threat, they send in newer teams to practice fighting against them. Charlotte does not know this, she just thinks they're so good that LOUH doesn't have the heroes to keep up.

There are no official villain agencies (LOUH squashed them pretty early on), but networks and alliances are still alive and well. "Crime families" and smaller teams of villains do exist, but are much less organized than the heroes. Like heroes, villain families exist and tend to stick with one another (Kyanna, the aforementioned sheep villain was originally part of one but was used as a scapegoat for a heist gone wrong).

Uuuuhhh let's see what else haven't I mentioned....."heels" are pseudo-villains that are more performers than actual villains, they're usually to help boost morale and public image of heroes by purposefully losing in scripted battles. Shops for villains exist but you gotta know where to look, very much under the table sort of deal. Edna, a kitty cat, runs a bookshop that doubles as a shop for villain materials and whatnot.

High on the danger scale, the more likely you'll be taken down and sent to prison rather than let go. Uuuh oh, villain celebrities do exist! People eat it up, but it really does depend on charisma, appearance, and just how marketable you are. Yes, it's incredibly fucked and causes a lot of discourse around the efforts of treating a villain like a celebrity (this is actually part of Juno's story!).

Neutral Parties

You don't always have to pick a side! Like the aforementioned Caroline, lots of superpowered individuals are actually on a "for-hire" basis for both supervillains and heroes. Whiplash, who actually lives with Edna in its bookstore, is a for-hire mercenary that often fights alongside heroes and villains. Edna as well also assists both sides, as long as they have the right amount of cash.

While it runs the risk of drawing in negative attention from LOUH, it also opens up a wider array of customers. You win some, you lose some. It's all about evaluating risk and reward.

-

uuuuhh i think that's about all of the top of my head? thanks for letting me ramble! not necessarily about my oc's but i did add tidbits of them throughout this massive lore dump lol thank you for asking this was fun <3 i might go back and add more drawings for funsies, i need to do more with these guys

#tee hee #idk how to tag this #deer's ocs #<- that'll do for now. look at my anthro beasts everyibe

[chronicowboy]

"Everyone misunderstands," Eddie announces to the silent waiting room.

Its the first thing he's said since he begged Buck to talk to him as Chim's hands pressed into his sternum. The words come out jagged and cold.

Everyone is looking at him, but Eddie doesn't - can't - take his eyes off the chilli sauce stain on his trousers.

The chilli Buck had made.

The chilli with Bobby's secret ingredient that had sent Buck into a joyful frenzy when he was let in on it.

"Everyone thinks Buck," here his voice breaks, "thinks he's indestructible and that they know better." Eddie's clasped hands shake in his lap, knuckles so white he waits for the bones to snap and slice clean through his skin. "Well, I do know better. I know him better."

I know him.

That's what he wants to say.

Its what he's always wanted to say. To Ali and Abby and Taylor. To the Buckley parents. To Connor and Kameron.

Because no one knows Buck like Eddie does, and he wears that knowledge as a badge of honour.

Here, surrounded by the family Buck's built himself, he wants to say it again. He wants to rub it all in their faces. He wants them to understand what he's really saying.

I know him as none of you know him. I know him as Hen knows Karen. I know him as Bobby knows Athena. I know him as Chimney knows Maddie. I know him as if he was mine.

I know him. I know him. I know him.

"Buck doesn't think he's indestructible, he thinks he's expendable." Even though he spits the word, he catches Margaret Buckley's pained little noise. Good. She's the one that made him think it in the first place. "I don't know when I realised it. I just know that I've been carrying it as a weight on my back for longer than I can remember."

He wore the knowledge of it like a crown of thorns, a crucifix.

Ready to die once, twice, a thousand times if it would convince Buck that he was worth something more than what he could do for other people.

"I thought I knew better," his words waver, but he doesn't care about how many eyes are on him as the tears roll down his cheeks. "But I'm just as bad as everyone else because I know Buck thinks he's expendable, but I was the one who thought he was indestructible."

He scoffs at himself.

"That's why I did it."

He whispers this, but in the suffocating tension of the room, it carries like a scream.

"This wasn't supposed to happen."

He wraps a trembling hand around the pendant of his St Christopher medal.

Fuck, he's going to have to tell Chris.

"He wasn't supposed to..." Eddie bites his lip, squeezes his eyes shut. "When I was dying, it was always him right there with me. He was life. He was supposed to be life. Not death, I'm death." He shakes his head. "He was supposed to live."

He's angry. But this time, he has nothing to be angry about, no one to be angry at.

Buck didn't do anything reckless.

The lightning fell from the sky like an anvil of divine intervention.

"I put him in my will because he always makes it through. He comes out the other side, cracking stupid jokes, but he always comes out the other side." He drops his voice to a whisper again, "that's why I did it."

Buck was supposed to be untouchable.

And when he wasn't, Eddie was supposed to keep anything from touching him.

"I thought if..." He doesn't know why he's telling them this. It took him a full year to tell Buck himself, but something inside of him, wild and untamed, refuses to settle unless the words are falling off his lips. "I made him Christopher's guardian because he's never the one who leaves, and I wanted to be the one who stayed."

Even the sounds of the hospital beyond their little vigil, fade away.

The lawyer had asked him if it was a wise choice, to make another firefighter his son's legal guardian. His partner, for fuck's sake. There were multiple times each shift where one fell swoop could have taken both of them.

But Buck was indestructible.

And putting him on a legal document cemented his immortality.

So, maybe it wasn't wise to make Buck, a statistical anomaly of a firefighter, his son's legal guardian.

But its Buck.

"He's not supposed to leave. He's not allowed to leave."

He's not allowed to leave me.

That's what he wants to say.

#sami rambles #okay look. can't stop thinking about eddie bringing up the will this episode #especially if he's also been hurt #like he's gonna have to face up to his and buck's mortality at some point #911 show #911 fox #911 spoilers #911 spec #911 spec fic #911 speculation #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buck and christopher #buckley diaz family #buckley diaz family fic #buck x eddie #buddie #buddie fic

[vanilla-cigarillos]

Growing Marshmallows!

The secret ingredient to many people’s favorite sweet treats used to grow in the ground! The roots of the Marshmallow herb contain mucilage (a polysaccharide substance) that was originally used to thicken marshmallows. Although it’s known for its uses in sugary goodness, this herb is also potent herbal medicine for treating all manner of respiratory issues. If a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down~, a few herbal marshmallows are even better! Here’s a quick post about how you can grow this herb yourself. 

How To Start Growing:

So whenever people think about growing their own herbs, of course the first assumption is to start with seeds. Here’s a nice place to buy Marshmallow seeds from: Earthbeat Seeds.

The only thing that is absolutely required to grow Marshmallow is cold stratification. Marshmallow seeds need cold stratification for good germination. This means they need cool, moist temperatures to mimic winter conditions. This process prevents the seeds from germinating in the fall, which would lead them to be killed as tiny seedlings over the winter season. A bit of cold storage tells the seeds that winter has passed, and it’s time to get growing! 

Putting the packet of seeds into the refrigerator a few weeks before planting accomplishes that. Once they’re up, the plants themselves are pretty hard to kill.

Outdoor Conditions:

If you live in an area with a mild winter season, I recommend planting your seeds in the late fall and they’ll germinate the following spring. On the other hand, if you live in areas with a long and cold winter, you can plant the seeds very early in the spring (right when the soil can be worked). Make sure to place your plants about 1 foot apart in a well-prepared perennial bed. Mulch heavily in the first year to discourage weeds and retain moisture in the soil while the plants are getting established.

Indoor Conditions:

The proper moist conditions are needed to be achieved either by storing marshmallow seeds on a moist paper towel and inside a plastic bag in the refrigerator for 3 - 4 weeks before planting. Make sure to keep your seeds just barely moist, and leave the bag cracked open a bit for ventilation during this process. 

Plant Care:

Marshmallow loves consistently moist soil! Remember that moist doesn’t mean drenched; this herb doesn’t want to grow underwater. Make sure that wherever you plant your little guys, there is good drainage and the area will be able to avoid standing water.

Harvesting:

You’re able to start harvesting in the 2nd or 3rd fall after planting your herbs. 

Use a sharp spade to harvest the roots in the late fall, after the plant has died back but before the ground freezes. It’s possible to harvest without killing the plant, so make sure to replant the crown after removing a portion of the root during this process. Clean the roots thoroughly, and then chop into pieces and dry them immediately. The dried roots are the most common medicinal preparation, and can readily be purchased online if you’re not wanting to wait 2-3 years for your home-harvested root in order to use Marshmallow in your witchy and/or herbalism practice.

And there you go! I hope this post helps you get started growing this wonderful herb in your indoor or outside garden :)

#witch #witchy #witchcraft #wicca #gardening #herbalism #herbs #green witch #green witchcraft #green witch recipe #garden #gardener #herb garden