#It did help him ultimately sure he had to face all new problems from it but he was finally able to come into himself from that freedom

[adventourer]

What kind of catharsis do you need?

Freedom

You've had the weight of the world on your shoulders, haven't you. It's okay to put the burden down, stretch your legs -- everything won't fall apart if you just take a second to breathe. Go for a late night drive with the windows down and the radio up. Howl at the moon. Break something. You earned it.

[lizardho]

I was like 11-12 years old when I figured out at a boring-ass church activity that you could put rocks into little plastic spoons and then pelt people who annoyed me with them. I did this for the rest of the activity, and at Sunday dinner the next night was bragging about my victory (cornering the mean kid who picked on my youngest brother and pelting him with rocks). One of my cousins was like “no way, that sounds SO fun! Let’s do that RIGHT NOW!” So we grabbed spoons and went and got pebbles from the back yard and launched them at each other.

The problem was my grandma sold her soul for the world’s most resilient plastic spoons so we could launch those fuckers HARD. I gave out welts like candy on Halloween, and I got them back in kind.

So we resorted to taking cover and giggling until we got whacked, then yelping, then returning fire.

My cousin hid in my grandpa’s little fishing boat. It was a good boat, but simple and honestly underused. We didn’t know the little windows on it, meant to keep the wind out of my grandpa’s face while he drove, were cracking. However, they were definitely cracking. Eventually it became obvious and we realized we had been being dumb.

This was NOT the first time in my life I’d been dumb roughhousing and broken something, and I had developed a reputation in my family as being “suicidally honest” so I was the one to deliver the bad news. My grandpa let out a pretty good chuckle and said it was OK, tousled my hair, and asked my grandma to bring me cake. I am not kidding. I learned later he hated his boat and only bought it for his kids’ sakes, since he thought everyone needed to know how to fish. At the time though I was just bewildered and pleased at my good fortune. FINALLY, at long last, being honest and telling the truth about breaking something expensive was getting me cake. I knew if I kept trying it would eventually serve me, and now so had CAKE. I was pleased as could be.

My dad, on the other hand, was livid. He LOVED that boat. He spent several weeks each summer recovering from breaking ribs in that boat every year for about 7 years prior to this incident. He had great memories and memories that boat. So he told my Grandma NO cake for me AND that I’d be coming by this weekend to fix stuff around the house and pay for the broken window with my babysitting/lawn mowing money.

Obviously I was devastated, but that felt more in-line with the way things normally went when I broke something expensive so I just figured it was OK. My grandpa gave my grandma a look and sadly said “Ok, have her here on Saturday to help me with some yard work.”

That Saturday my dad woke me up at 6:00 sharp and drove me, sleepy and bewildered, to my grandpa’s house. He was mumbling under his breath the whole time but he thought he was teaching me consequences for my actions so he was ultimately OK with it.

We get to my grandpa’s house at 6:15. My grandpa is outside with a ladder hanging Christmas lights. The lawn is freshly mowed, the trees and garden are weeded and well-tended to, the carnations in the front yard look immaculate, and my grandpa has this giddy mischievous look on his face. He tells me he was so excited that I was coming over that he couldn’t sleep, so he did all the yard work himself. He asked me to help him put up Christmas lights and decorate the Christmas tree, which I did, then said that because I was such a good helper I could have some pancakes for breakfast. I was sent home with the slice of cake I had been denied the week before, wrapped to keep it as fresh as possible.

The whole way home my dad looked a little miffed, but told me that he was glad I had been honest and was proud of me for helping grandpa. I know he wanted me to Learn a Lesson™️the cowboy way, like he had as a kid, but didn’t have much room to complain since I’d still been Put To Work.

I think that was a lesson for both of us, although I’m not totally sure what it was supposed to show me. I think it was my grandpa’s way of showing my dad that discipline without tenderness doesn’t count as much. He died last year and I miss him terribly, as does my dad. I hope that my story of victory, drama, punishment, and ultimately a secret second victory is meaningful to someone else out there, but if not it still means a lot to me ❤️

[gghostwriter]

something fluffy i thought of is how spencer never had friends his age so he never got to have a real sleepover, so reader decides to change that and does all the cliché sleepover stuff with him (building a fort, pillow fights, facemasks,...)

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff w.c: 1.5k A/N: I’ve been in a writing funk lately so really took a while, so sorry about that! I wrote this with early season!Spencer in mind, think s1-s2. Not proofread cause i will second guess myself. Special thanks to @thegloryofliterature for helping me power through! Masterlist

Cucumber Slices. // Spencer Reid

Two pretty glasses on the kitchen counter, ready for use? Check.

Non-alcoholic wine chilling in the fridge? Check. 

No clutter in sight? Check.

Your eyes flitted all over the apartment, making sure everything was where it was supposed to be—no stray pair of shoes, overflowing from your cabinet, strewn all over the wooden floor. It was a problem you’d need to tackle soon or later, your lack of space in this otherwise tiny apartment and your shopping addiction, but that wasn’t top priority at this very moment.

No, the cause of concern was making sure all went well tonight with your new beau, Spencer Reid.

It was all thanks to a cup of spilled coffee down at your favorite shop that caused this new development. You remembered how wide-eyed, afraid, and guilty the FBI agent looked as he took note of your state of distress, pale pink blouse turning sheer from liquid. Your lips must have wobbled then, thinking about how your new top was ultimately ruined, that caused him to clumsily remove his plaid coat, smelling of cedar wood and worn pages, and wrapping it all over your slight frame.

With his tenor voice, he repeatedly apologized and proposed to have your top dry cleaned, hoping to salvage it, all the while offering a spare button down from his leather worn satchel. Honestly, you didn’t know why you accepted it then and why you shyly gave away your contact information. It was like his amber doe eyes, teary from stress, hypnotized you to saying yes. 

Catching sight of your reflection, you assessed the mirage in front of you. Hair casually blown dry, not too curled, and makeup kept to a minimum, a hint of gloss, that’s it. 

You didn’t want to come off too dolled up for his very first sleepover in history, a fact he humbly disclosed during your fourth date and a fact you wanted to rectify immediately, and for his first sleepover as your new official (the thought made you want to squeal) boyfriend.

Looks? Check.

The corners of your cherry flavored lips lifted into a smile just as a hesitant knock echoed through your tastefully designed apartment.

Boyfriend? Check.

“Coming!”

As you reached for the locked door knob, the excitement palpable on your face, a small inconspicuous package caught the corner of your eye.

It was a box of protection you bought, just in case.

You sucked in a breath, afraid of what could have happened if you just left it there. Quickly running to your bedroom and pulling the bedside drawer so harshly the contents rattled, you shoved the box away, face burning from the thought of being caught.

To be fair, it really wasn’t in your list to buy during the quick run to the grocery. It had caught your eye while checking out and added it to the cart without really much further thought. You definitely wasn’t expecting anything to happen tonight, knowing how fresh the relationship is and how shy Spencer is to any type of physical affection. He did once rattle off a fact how hands touching transfer more bacteria than kissing and at that moment, all you could think of was leaning in and meeting his lips with yours. 

There was another knock. 

“Just a moment, Spence!” You called out, voice cracking at the end as your feet slid against the waxed floor.

You paused, trying to catch your breath before swing the door wide open to the view of Spencer shyly smiling at you, weighed down by the amount of items on his hands.

“Uh—hi, hey,” he breathed out. “I-uh, I brought over some stuff we might need for the sleepover.” 

You giggled. “Did you bring your entire apartment with you, by any chance?”

“What? No, no of course not! I just—” he stepped inside your apartment, lowering the bags on the kitchen counter. “—I didn’t know what a sleepover would need so I did research and it—” gesturing towards the items. “—just snowballed from there.” 

You stretched on your tip toes, softly giving his cheek a kiss. “That’s sweet of you, Spence. Can you tell me more about what you found?” 

His face brightened, very much used to people not wanting to hear him talk on or off tangents. “Well, I brought a couple of games, one I borrowed from Penelope—” he pulled a chess board, a deck of cards, and Monopoly. “—I also got us assorted slice fruits to share, I read that people in sleepovers tend to eat take out, pizza or Chinese, which I brought too, and I wanted us to have a healthy dessert on hand and although chocolate seems to be the usual meal treat, it is primarily made of concentrated sugar with little to no added nutrients. Fruits, on the other hand—”

He paused, eyes slowly tracking the contours on your face. “—do you want me to stop? Usually the team would have cut me off by now and I don’t want to bore you.”

You quickly shook your head. “No, no! Not at all, Spencer! I love to hear your voice and i think its so cute that you researched.”

Rocking on his heels, he pressed his lips into a tight smile as his ears reddened in color. 

“Well,” you sidestepped to stand beside him, back facing the counter. “Should we get started?”

Spencer nodded, eyes earnestly looking at you for guidance.

“In my mind, a sleepover isn’t complete without this,” you gestured towards the ingredients laid out earlier.

A chopping board and it’s matching knife, one piece of unsliced cucumber, a tub of unopened Greek yogurt, and a bottle of honey.

“Is this for our snack?”

You giggled, bumping the side of his hip with yours. “You’ve got plenty to learn, my young padawan.”

***

“Are you sure this—” Spencer gestured to the concocted bowl in front of him. “—is sanitary? I don’t think I ran across this step when I was researching.”

Laughing, you pinched slices of cucumber between your manicured fingers and gesturing him to lean slightly back. “Of course it is, Spencer! I did trust the washing and cutting to you, didn’t I?”

“It’s just—I’m not quite sure what benefit we’re supposed to get.”

You leaned in, keeping a critical eye on your handiwork as if you were a painter inspecting the masterpiece. He smelled fresh, having taken a shower before settling on the couch in front of the opened television—he smelled of your body wash with a hint of his own scent you couldn’t describe.

Pulling back, you gestured for him to do the same to you, covering your bare face with the homemade face mask.

“Well, according to Paolo, the cucumbers actually do nothing but it’s nice to just get into the mood, don’t you think?”

The space between his brows threatened to disappear as the tip of his tongue peeked between his lips in concentration. It was absolutely adorable to see him wracking his expansive mind as to who Paolo was. 

“Should I know who that is?” 

You faux gasped. “From Princess Diaries?”

Spencer shook his head, leaning away from his finished work.

“As your girlfriend, I fear it’s my duty to get you up to date with romance movies. Which is why—” reaching for the remote to press play. “—I chose one I’m sure you’d know.” 

Classical music started to play through the speakers matched with a sunrise on an empty vast field and slowly, the title card appeared, Pride & Prejudice.

He chuckled, settling in on your off white sofa, shoulders brushing against each other.

As the movie progressed, Spencer softly whispered commentary under his breath, his voice rumbling from his chest, lulling you to ease. It felt so easy being with him. There was no second guessing the meaning behind his words, the meaning behind his actions. You still couldn’t believe your luck that you found The decent man of your dreams through a cup of spilled coffee, it was worth having your designer silk blouse as the casualty. 

On screen, Mr Darcy had reached to guide Elizabeth Bennet up to the carriage, bare handed. The camera cut then, focusing on his hand flexing from the touch of her hand.

Your heart rate picked up, this scene had always been your favorite. Such an inconspicuous move but quite scandal during their time.

Spencer cleared his throat, adjusting his position beside you, hand mirroring Mr Darcy’s. Slowly, as if he was unsure of your consent, he brushed the back of his palm with yours, intertwining the two pinkies together.

Breath caught in your chest, you wove the rest together. Both palms slightly damp from the nerves, he squeezed three times and in that minute, you knew. 

This relationship was for keeps. 

My inbox is currently closed for requests but comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[evermoreness]

wingman | james potter

pairing: james potter x reader!

summary: james definitely has a crush on you, but he won't admit it. so his best friend sirius steps up to be his wingman.

masterlist

If Sirius Black had one true passion in life—aside from pranks, Quidditch, and being generally insufferable—it was meddling. Specifically, meddling in James Potter’s disastrous love life.

The problem wasn’t that James lacked charm. No, James was overflowing with charm, much to the dismay of every professor at Hogwarts. The problem was that James refused to acknowledge that he had feelings for you—his best friend, his ultimate rival, his favorite person to annoy.

And, as Sirius often pointed out (loudly, in the middle of breakfast), you were just as bad.

Which is why, after months of watching you and James dance around each other with an infuriating amount of tension, Sirius decided enough was enough.

It was time for some intervention

Step number one

It started in Transfiguration.

You strolled into class, fully expecting to take your usual seat next to Lily, but before you could sit, a strong arm slung around your shoulders.

“Ah-ah,” Sirius drawled, spinning you around and gently shoving you into the seat next to James instead. “New seating chart, love. Professor's orders.”

You frowned. “Professor McGonagall never changes the seating chart.”

“She does now,” Sirius said, smirking before plopping down beside Lily, effectively blocking your escape route.

You turned to James, who was lounging in his chair, grinning like the cocky little git he was. “Look at that. You’re stuck with me.”

You groaned, turning to Sirius. "You look suspicious"

"When do i not?" Sirius said, grinning like he was planning something.

"Fair point." You said, before turning to James. “Merlin help me,”

James gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “How dare you? I am an absolute delight to sit next to.”

“You poke people with your quill and hum off-key when you’re bored,” you shot back.

“I serenade,” he corrected.

“You butcher perfectly good songs.”

James leaned in, his face just a little too close, and smirked. “Admit it. You’d miss me if I wasn’t here.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your heart did a stupid little flip. “Sure, Potter. I’d be devastated.”

“You could just admit you love spending time with me,” James offered.

You scoffed. “Or I could stab you with my quill.”

James leaned in, lowering his voice to a teasing whisper. “Kinky.”

McGonagall just ignored them all, she had learned a long time ago she couldn't keep up with the Marauders antics. So she just let them. It was best for her mental health. But she still could hear you and James bickering every time she turned to write something on the black board.

James, completely unbothered, leaned closer to you, elbow on the desk, chin resting on his hand. “Well, you heard the professor. We’re partners now. Best get used to staring at me all class.”

You rolled your eyes, flicking his forehead with your quill. “Merlin, you wish I stared at you.”

James grinned. “You’re staring at me right now.”

You huffed. “Because I’m contemplating how best to Transfigure you into a ferret.”

Sirius cackled from behind you. "Oh, young love" he said, making you and James glare at him.

"Don't you have a boyfriend to annoy or something?" James asked, rolling his eyes.

"Remus is recovering from the full moon, idiot" Sirius said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He was about to say something more but McGonagall glared at the three of them.

McGonagall sighed again. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

At least, step one of Sirius' plan was definitely a success.

Step number two

The next part of Sirius’s plan required a little more... creativity.

Which is how you and James ended up in detention, standing outside McGonagall's office, glaring at a very pleased Sirius Black.

“Explain. Now,” you demanded.

Sirius shrugged. “Professor McGonagall may have received an anonymous tip that you two were planning to sneak into the kitchens after hours.”

“We weren’t,” you said flatly.

“Well, you should’ve been,” Sirius said, looking entirely unbothered. “Really, it’s your own fault for being so predictable.”

James groaned. “For Merlin’s sake, Padfoot.”

“Oh, don’t act so ungrateful,” Sirius scoffed, draping an arm around James’s shoulder. “I’m simply giving you both what you want. Quality time. Candlelit settings. Romance.”

“You’re sending us to detention,” you deadpanned.

“Exactly.” Sirius grinned. “Do you know how many legendary couples started with forced proximity? This is the perfect setup.”

James scoffed, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “You’re delusional.”

“And you are hopeless.” Sirius turned to you, wiggling his eyebrows.

You crossed your arms. “And what exactly do you gain from this?”

“An evening of uninterrupted flirting, obviously.”

James scoffed. “We don’t flirt.”

Sirius blinked. “Right. And I’m the Minister of Magic.”

Soon enough, Sirius was gone, and McGonagall assigned the two of you to polish the entire trophy room. Without magic. Which was, quite frankly, a crime against wizardkind.

“I think I’ve inhaled enough dust to choke a hippogriff,” you muttered, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn smudge.

James, sprawled dramatically on the floor, groaned. “This is actual torture.”

You snorted. “Oh, please. You’ve been lying there for twenty minutes. I’m doing all the work.”

James grinned lazily. “I’m providing emotional support.”

“Oh, how noble.”

“I try.”

You rolled your eyes and flicked a damp rag at him. He yelped as it smacked him in the face.

“Oi! That’s rude.”

“I’m so sorry, did I offend the Great James Potter?” you said, smirking.

James leaned on his elbow, smirking right back. “Oh, love, you offend me constantly.”

“And yet, you keep coming back.”

James’s smirk faltered for half a second—just long enough for you to notice.

His hazel eyes flickered over your face, something softer in them now. Something that made your heart do a completely unnecessary little flip.

Before you could overthink it, James groaned and rolled onto his back dramatically. “I cannot polish one more bloody trophy.”

“You’ve polished one,” you pointed out.

“Exactly!”

You snorted. “Oh, poor baby, suffering through a whole hour of detention.”

James gasped, clutching his chest. “You wound me.”

“Oh, shut up and hand me the polish.”

But James didn’t move. He was staring up at the ceiling, brows furrowed.

“Oi. Potter. Earth to James.”

James blinked and turned his head to look at you.

“Have you ever thought about it?” he asked suddenly.

You frowned. “Thought about what?”

He hesitated. Then smirked. “How gorgeous I am.”

You groaned. “Oh, for the love of Merlin—”

“I mean, really,” James continued, grinning now. “It must be exhausting for you, being constantly exposed to this level of handsomeness.”

“Exhausting, yes,” you said dryly. “Mostly because of your ego.”

James laughed, and it was so genuine, so warm, that you almost forgot why you were annoyed in the first place.

Almost.

By the time detention ended, you were both covered in dust, exhausted, and slightly delirious.

You both stumbled out of the trophy room, stretching like freed prisoners.

“Well, that was awful,” James said cheerfully.

You sighed dramatically. “If I never see another trophy again, it’ll be too soon.”

James turned to you, smirking. “You know, we should really thank Sirius for this.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you deadpanned. “Maybe hex him as a thank-you.”

James grinned. “You do have the best ideas.”

You smirked up at him. “I know.”

James’s smirk softened slightly. His hazel eyes flickered down to your lips—just for a second.

Your heart definitely did not stutter. Absolutely not.

Neither of you spoke for a moment.

Then James cleared his throat. “So.”

“So,” you echoed.

James shifted on his feet, then suddenly grinned. “Race you to the common room?”

You snorted. “Please. You’d lose.”

James gasped. “Oh, is that a challenge?”

You smirked. “You tell me.”

James took a step closer. “Winner gets bragging rights.”

You took a step closer. “Loser has to buy Butterbeer next Hogsmeade trip.”

James grinned. “Deal.”

He started running before even counting to three, and you really tried to get into his pace but he was much faster than you. James got in front of the painting that guarded the Gryffindor common room, breathless, you got there second, just by some seconds of different.

James grinned, looking far too smug. “I win.”

You gaped at him. “That’s cheating!”

“Strategic advantage, love.”

“Oh, you’re insufferable—”

James laughed, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the common room. “Come on, loser. You owe me a Butterbeer.”

You groaned, but you were smiling. “You’re impossible, Potter.”

James squeezed your hand. “You love it.”

And, Merlin help you, maybe you did.

Step number— Intervention!

By the end of the week, you had reached your limit.

You slammed your hands down on the Gryffindor table, glaring at Sirius. “I know what you’re doing.”

Sirius, mid-bite of toast, blinked innocently. “Doing what?”

“Every time I turn around, James is right there. Transfiguration. Potions. Detention.”

Sirius smirked. “Weird how that keeps happening, huh?”

You jabbed a finger at him. “Admit it.”

Sirius leaned back lazily. “Admit what? That my best mate is tragically in love with you and needs a little push?”

James, who had just sat down, immediately choked on his pumpkin juice. “SIRIUS!”

You and James turned bright red at the same time.

“I—You—” You spluttered, words failing you for the first time in your entire life. “He is not—”

Sirius just grinned wider.

James, still coughing, thumped his chest and pointed an accusatory finger at Sirius. “Mate. What the hell.”

“Oh, please,” Sirius scoffed. “We all see it. You two are basically a couple already.”

Remus, sipping his tea across the table, nodded. “He’s not wrong.”

Sirius put an arm around his boyfriend. "Thank you, Moony, at least one person on this table actually supports me"

Remus gave him a look "I never said that"

Sirius gasped in mock horror "Hey! I told you all my plans to make those two," He pointed at you both "Start dating and you actually said it was a good idea"

Remus just swallowed a piece of bread "You have no actual proof i said that"

James buried his face in his hands. “Merlin, kill me now.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “We are not dating.”

Sirius waved a hand. “Yet.”

You and James simultaneously threw a piece of toast at him.

It bounced off his head. He didn’t even flinch.

Sirius just grinned. “Give it a week.”

Step number... five?

The Gryffindor common room was unusually peaceful that evening. No firework explosions, no magical pranks, no Sirius Black laughing maniacally while being chased by McGonagall. Just a cozy fire, the occasional page-turning of a textbook, and the low murmur of students finishing their homework.

It was exactly the kind of peace Sirius Black found unacceptable.

He leaned over to Remus, whispering conspiratorially, “It’s time.”

Remus, who had been this close to finishing his Transfiguration essay, sighed. “Time for what?”

Sirius grinned wickedly. “Operation: Get James Potter a Girlfriend.”

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sirius, for the love of Merlin—”

But Sirius was already in motion, zeroing in on James and you, who were currently seated across from each other at the Gryffindor table, mid-banter as usual.

James leaned back in his chair, twirling his quill between his fingers. “You keep looking at me like that, love. Starting to think you fancy me.”

You scoffed, flipping a page in your textbook. “Oh, absolutely, James. Nothing gets my heart racing like watching you struggle with fourth-year level Charms.”

James gasped dramatically. “You wound me! I am excellent at Charms.”

You smirked. “Oh, of course. Remind me again, how many times did you accidentally set your own tie on fire last week?”

“Once,” James muttered. “And in my defense, the spell was successful. Just...with extra flair.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Hopeless.”

Sirius plopped himself down between you two, grinning like a madman. “Wow, the flirty tension in this room is suffocating.”

Both you and James immediately groaned in unison.

“Sirius—”

“Nope,” he cut you off, slamming a hand down on the table. “I refuse to sit idly by while you two idiots continue this will-they-won’t-they nonsense. So, I’ve decided to help.”

James narrowed his eyes. “Help how?”

Sirius smirked. “Oh, just making sure you two spend as much time together as possible.”

Before either of you could protest, he waved his wand.

Suddenly, the two of you lurched forward, an invisible force yanking you towards each other until your noses were barely an inch apart.

You blinked. James blinked.

“What. The. Hell.”

James tried to lean back, but something—no, Sirius—kept you stuck together.

“Black, if you don’t undo this spell right now, I swear to Merlin—” you started, your face rapidly heating.

Sirius just beamed. “Ah, young love.”

“Padfoot,” James hissed through gritted teeth. “If I hex you right now, will you undo it?”

Sirius shrugged. “Dunno. You could try, but you are currently nose-to-nose with your one true love, so any sudden movements might result in an accidental kiss.”

You and James immediately went rigid.

“You're so dead, Black.” you shouted.

Remus, watching from the sidelines, sighed deeply. “You do realize McGonagall is going to kill you for this.”

Sirius waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, this is romantic. I’ll probably get an award.”

James turned back to you, his lips twitching despite himself. “So… reckon we just stay like this forever? Seems like Sirius has finally found a way to actually make you stare at me all day.”

You groaned. “Unbelievable. I’d rather kiss a Dementor.”

“Ouch,” James said, dramatically clutching his heart. “That’s cruel. I’d at least make a handsome Dementor.”

You huffed, crossing your arms—which was a bad idea, because now your hands were even closer to James’s chest.

Sirius gasped. “Oh, Merlin! Are you about to hold hands? Is this a moment?”

“I will kill you,” James said.

Remus, who was now actively ignoring the situation, muttered, “I’ll alert the authorities.”

Lily, walking past with a book, glanced at the scene, sighed, and kept walking. “You two deserve this.”

James grinned at you. “C’mon, admit it. This is the best day of your life.”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “Hm. Ask me again when I’m not glued to your face.”

Sirius sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. I’ll undo it. But only if you both admit you like each other.”

James and you both froze.

Silence.

You turned to James. James turned to you.

And then, at the exact same time, you both blurted out:

"Absolutely not.”

Sirius groaned. “Hopeless. Utterly hopeless.”

And with that, he flicked his wand, releasing the spell.

The moment you were free, you shoved James off of you, and he—completely unprepared—toppled off the bench and onto the floor with a very undignified yelp, making everyone laugh at him.

Step number 10? (Sirius has definitely lost counting)

It was pouring outside.

The Quidditch pitch was soaked, the thunder rumbled, and the storm showed no signs of letting up. You both had just gotten out of the game, and everything would’ve been fine, except you and James were currently locked in the Gryffindor locker room.

Courtesy of Sirius Black.

James banged on the door. “Pads, you absolute menace, open this door right now!”

Sirius’s laughter echoed from the other side. “Not until you both admit you’re in love with each other!”

You groaned. “You child!”

“Nope, just a genius. Have fun, lovebirds!”

And then—silence.

James sighed, running a hand through his soaked hair. “He’s never letting this go, is he?”

“Nope.”

You both stood there, dripping wet, silence stretching between you.

And then James said, “We could just… do it.”

You turned to him. “Do what?”

James shrugged. “Kiss. Just to get him off our backs.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So now you’re willing to waste your first kiss on me?”

James laughed softly. “I never said I didn’t want to kiss you.”

Oh.

The air between you shifted. His usual smirk was gone, replaced with something softer, something almost shy.

Your heart hammered. “Well… if we have to.”

James took a step closer. “Right. Just to get Sirius to shut up.”

Another step.

“Obviously.”

His hand brushed yours.

“No other reason.”

You swallowed. “None at all.”

And then he kissed you.

It was soft at first, tentative. But then you grabbed the front of his stupid Quidditch jersey, pulling him closer, and suddenly—it wasn’t just to get Sirius to shut up anymore.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dizzy, James just grinned.

“So,” he said, “how mad would you be if I told you Sirius left five minutes ago?”

You blinked.

And then you shoved him.

“POTTER!”

James stumbled back, laughing as you shoved him again, harder this time. “You knew?” you accused, hands on your hips, still breathless from the kiss.

He grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “Well, I suspected.”

“You absolute menace!”

James only laughed harder, dodging as you lunged for him. “Come on, love, don’t be mad—”

“Oh, don’t you ‘love’ me, Potter! You tricked me into—” You stopped mid-sentence, suddenly realizing what you were saying.

James smirked. “Into what?”

You scowled. “Into… into…”

His grin widened, and he leaned in. “Into kissing me?”

Your face burned. Damn him.

James stepped even closer, so close you could smell the rain still clinging to his skin. His voice was lower now, teasing but softer. “You did kiss me back, you know.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Only because you kissed me first.”

He nodded solemnly. “And you’re saying you hated it?”

You opened your mouth. Shut it. Opened it again. “That is not the point.”

James just laughed, and before you could shove him again, he caught your hands in his. His thumbs brushed over your knuckles, and suddenly, the air between you wasn’t just playful anymore.

You swallowed. “Potter—”

He leaned in again, close enough that your noses nearly brushed. “I think,” he murmured, “we might have to do that again. You know, just to be sure.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was pounding. “Oh, for research purposes?”

“Exactly.”

And then he kissed you again—this time slower, sweeter. No tricks, no games. Just you and him.

Outside, the storm raged on, but in that moment, all you could feel was warmth.

[magiccath]

Same Alien, New Face

twelfth doctor x GN!reader (established relationship)

summary: In which the Doctor isn't sure you'll still love him

The Doctor’s regenerations were always chaotic, that bit was unavoidable. The first time you saw it happen you didn’t even know how to react or what to do. It was hard to help deal with the physical complications of a regenerating body when it felt like the person in front of you was a stranger. Rationally, you knew that they were still the same person you knew and loved. But that didn’t stop you from feeling like the person in front of you wasn’t the Doctor. 

It was an odd feeling, seeing someone that you knew so personally and feeling like you’d never seen them before. You looked at him and yet you didn’t know him. At least, you didn’t know this version yet. Considering face-changing boyfriends weren’t a common occurrence for 21st-century Earth, it was a feeling that was hard to explain to others. It left you feeling cold and alone, struggling to look at someone you had never seen before and find the person that you loved most inside them.

But, this wasn’t your first rodeo. It wasn’t as scary as the first time he had changed his face. This time, you knew what was coming. Even still, it didn’t matter how much you prepared for the day that the Doctor would change. No matter what, you wouldn’t have been prepared for this face. Out of all of the possibilities in your mind, this wasn’t even close to what you had thought he would look like. 

You had learned long ago that you didn’t care what face the Doctor had on. Sure, you had your favorites, it was hard not to. This one was different, there was no denying that. The point had never been how he looked, but rather who he was. You loved the Doctor, and that meant that you loved every version of him. 

“How do you know you’re still going to love him?” your mum had once asked you, “When he changes?” 

It wasn’t something you had ever really thought about before. Sure, he had changed, but never this much. All of the faces you had been with were age-appropriate, even if the alien wearing them wasn’t. 

However, this version wasn’t young. Not that he had ever been, but now he looked it. You’d never seen him this old, with deep-set wrinkles etched into his face. He was cross too, his eyebrows reminding you of two bushy grey caterpillars, constantly drawn downwards in disapproval. Maybe it was because he was Scottish. The Scots were notoriously cross, weren’t they?

After the hectic air of it all, after the restless regeneration energy had burned off, and the alien problem of the day had been solved, he was still your Doctor. That much you knew. No face could change that. As with every regeneration you had experienced, there was going to be an adjustment period. The painful span of time where you had to learn all of his new quirks, likes, dislikes, and little things that set him apart from the versions before him. 

This time felt different, and not in a way that you particularly liked. The Doctor was withdrawn from you, seemingly disinterested in letting you get to know his new face. You tried (and ultimately failed) not to take it personally, he was likely to have his own thoughts and emotions about the new look. 

Even if you didn’t want it, he’d given you your space, knowing that you needed time to process. It still hurt him, the way that you looked at him. He’d told you once how disorienting it was, having you look at him like a stranger. 

“You look at me and you don’t see me. Do you have any idea what that’s like?” he had pleaded with you the first time he changed. “It’s me. I’m right here.”

You tried not to look at him like that, you really did. Yet, you still found yourself looking at this new face with obvious unfamiliarity. It was hard to see the alien that you loved under there, but you knew they were in there. It was simply a matter of peeling back the onion layers until you found him, the bits of your Doctor that could never change. 

It wasn’t hard to find him. He was sitting in the console room as you had expected, the space now updated with sleek metal panels and bookshelves full of dusty classics from across the galaxy. Every interior seemed to match each iteration of the Doctor, almost as if it was custom-tailored to their tastes. A part of you wished that you could get into the Doctor’s head like that. You wanted to know what this face was like, you wanted to know each and every quick and eccentricity that came with it. You wanted to know that he still loved you.

Just like all of the faces before him, he had spent his alone time tinkering. A mess of mechanics were strewn before him, rusty metal cogs and bolts scattered across his work table. There had been a time when you would have asked what he was working on, assuming that there was an end result that came out of his fiddling. Now, you knew that he just needed something to occupy his mind and body. It was the same reason that he fixed the console (even when it didn’t need to be fixed), attempted to cook (which usually resulted in the kitchen on fire), took things apart, put them back together, or constructed small gifts from the scraps. You didn’t know it yet, but this rendition would take up the guitar. He would write you love songs that didn’t always sound like love songs, spending hours finding the right string of notes to compose the song that was you. Sometimes, he would play them for you. Others, he kept in his hearts.

You plopped down on the metal floor next to his work chair, your head next to his knee. For a moment, he didn’t look up from the mess of gears he was dismantling. This wasn’t unusual, sometimes he was so focused he’d go hours before noticing you were in the room with him. At least, that’s how it had worked in the past. 

Tentatively, you rested your chin on his knee. This also wasn’t new. The Doctor - your Doctor - liked to be touched. His hand in yours every time you left the TARDIS, his arms wrapped tightly around you whenever he felt like it, affectionate kisses pressed against your hair or temple. Underneath your chin, you felt the subtle tightening of muscles in his leg. It was an unfamiliar sensation to you. The Doctor wasn’t usually like this, he wasn’t averse to your touch. This Doctor must be different, you reminded yourself. Reluctantly, you pulled your head away, removing it from his lap. You opted instead to look up at him silently, searching his eyes for something.

“Hey,” you whispered, your eyes never leaving his. These eyes were different, a dusty mix of blue and grey, rather than the illusive hazel you had grown so accustomed to. Even if the color was different, you could see the same emotions in those eyes. You knew how to read the Doctor like a book, and their eyes had always been the key. 

“Hey,” he said back, his voice deep but smooth. The accent was new, but you weren’t complaining. It suited him. A deep, gravelly Scottish that slid from his lips like melted butter. 

“What are you working on?” you asked, tilting your head in the direction of the scraps. The question was more out of habit than genuine interest. That’s how you dealt with the change, you’d revert back to the basics. 

“Don’t do that,” he said, turning back to his work. 

“What?” 

“Act like I’m the same,” he grumbled. It was strange, hearing him grumble in a way that didn’t come off as childish. Maybe it was the accent, or maybe it was the frown lines. Either way, the tone didn’t feel like it should come with a frustrated stomp of his foot. Rather, he sounded like a grumpy old man. The kind that yelled at kids to get off of his lawn. 

“You are,” you whispered earnestly, still looking up at him. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, intently studying his face as if it was the last time you would ever see it. Realistically, you knew that you had time. You would get to know this face slowly, just as you had the prior ones. Piece by piece, you would gather the little quirks that set them all apart from each other. 

“I got old.” 

“Happens to the best of us,” you murmur, resting your chin back down on his knee. You felt his muscles tense again, but you didn’t relent. If it bothered him enough, he’d ask you to move. “I’ll get old too, you know?” 

“This is different,” he sighed, setting the gears down on the table with a thunk. “You’re still young, and I’m not.” 

“You never were,” you point out, tilting your eyes up to meet his. 

The Doctor sighed, running his hand over his face. You didn’t need to know his new habits to recognize that he was frustrated. With the situation or with you, you had yet to figure out. So, you did the only thing you could think of when he was like this. Even if this iteration of the Doctor didn’t like touch, it was the only way that you knew how to comfort him. 

Gently, you got up from the floor. “Can I?” you asked, gesturing to his lap. You didn’t normally ask. In fact, it was usually the Doctor that pulled you into his lap. But this was different, he was different. You wanted to give him an out, an opportunity to relent. 

He stared blankly at you for a second, apprehensive to the question. Stiffly, he nodded, the gesture almost reluctant. You slid yourself into his lap before he could change his mind, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. His muscles were still taught and awkward, his arms resting rigid at his sides. It took him a minute to adjust, but he slowly started to relax a little bit. There was still a reluctance to the affection, but his arms encircled your waist, more out of muscle memory than anything else. It wasn’t hard for you to relax into the touch like it was for him. Without hesitation, you dropped your head down to his shoulder. The peak of your nose brushed against the side of his neck, sending a wave of sparks through his body. 

“I still love you,” you whispered, your breath fanning across his skin. “That’s not going to change.” 

He remained silent for a while, his arms tense around your waist. Even if he wasn’t speaking to you, he was still holding you. That was enough for you. 

“I don’t care that you got old,” you add after a while, pulling back so you could look at him. “I wouldn’t care if you were purple, had two heads, or were a woman. I wouldn’t even care if you were a worm. I’d still love you.” 

“I’m not going to turn into a worm,” he groaned, his voice gruff. 

“But the other things?” 

“I’ll keep you guessing.” He smiled slightly, the expression hauntingly familiar. It almost looked wrong on this face, the ghost of a smile creating more wrinkles on his face. 

You smile at him, chuckling softly. “Still the same,” you state. Your eyes still danced across his face, silently mapping out the curves of his new face. “My point is, I don’t care what you look like. Are you still the Doctor?” 

“Yes,” he whispered. You nodded in understanding, one of your fingers floating up to his face, softly tracing the length of one of his wrinkles. His eyes fluttered closed at your touch, you weren’t sure if the motion conveyed bliss or discomfort at the contact. 

“Then I still love you. You’re still my boyfriend, so long as you’ll still have me,” you stated, dropping your hand back down from his face. This iteration didn’t seem to welcome your contact and you didn’t want to push your limits. Still, you yearned to sit like this for hours, running your hands over his face until you had memorized every single wrinkle and imperfection of his face. But, you knew that you had to be patient.

He sighed, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. The gesture was familiar, but the hand doing it wasn’t. The juxtaposition was jarring at first, but you quickly leaned into his touch. It was going to be like this for a while, you reminded yourself. Change happens slowly, usually coming with a painful adjustment period. You would know this Doctor as you had known each one that came before him, just not yet. Eventually, the new and old would blend together to the point that they were inseparable, and then the whole cycle would start anew. 

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. Your noses brushed together, the unfamiliar slope of his new nose meeting the unchanging slope of yours. The contact caused the corners of your mouth to tug upwards, a ghost of a smile lighting your face up. 

“Of course, I’ll still have you,” he said gently, the pad of his thumb swiping back and forth across the soft skin of your cheek. “My face might change, but that doesn’t.” 

The pair of you sat in silence for a while, the constant thrum of the TARDIS the only sound in the room. He never fully relaxed into your touch, you figured he never would. His arms were still around your waist, his grip gentle yet unyielding. Even if he was awkward about it, he was willing to hold you. 

In your mind, he needed comfort and this was the only way you knew how to provide it (even if it didn’t appear to be ideal for him anymore). In his mind, your affections were more for your benefit than his. Maybe it was both. Either way, it hung unspoken in the air; you both needed this.

After a while, you pulled your head back up from its resting spot on his shoulder. Your eyes met his again and you felt the familiar flutter of emotions in your stomach. It didn’t matter when, where, or what face he was wearing, the Doctor always managed to make you flustered with nothing more than a look. 

“I want to know this face,” you said quietly, almost as if your words would scare him away. 

“So do I.” 

Sometimes you forgot that regeneration was a change for him too. He also had to learn all of the new quirks and subtleties that came with his new body. As hard as the adjustment period was for you, it was just as bad for him. 

“Let’s start with the basics,” you offer. He looks at you for a moment, his eyes searching your face. It was odd, considering you weren’t the one with a new face. Then again, the Doctor had always been an odd individual. After a beat, he nodded. 

“Favorite color?”

The Doctor rolled his eyes, groaning in slight irritation. Still, he relented. “I think it’s red now.”

“What kind of red?” you inquired, “Rusty red? Taylor Swift lipstick red? Kool-Aid red? Sunset red?” you listed the different shades off, your rambling clearly annoying the Doctor. 

“Burgundy,” he grunted. 

“That’s an acceptable red,” you shrug, indifferent in the matter.

“What would you consider an unacceptable red?”

“I’ll let you know when I find it.” This gets you a small smile from the Doctor, the emotion hardly perceptible. 

“Pears?” You move on. 

“Nope,” he growls, his frown deepening. You nodded with a smile, finding a wee bit of solace in the fact that the pear thing hadn’t changed. That was probably a static part of the Doctor’s personality.

“You’ve managed to sit still for this long, are you mellowing out with age?” you tease, poking fun at his usual restlessness. Usually, by now the Doctor was at least bouncing his leg. He needed to be in constant motion, his ADHD manifesting in just about every way that it could. Right now, he seemed oddly calm. As much as you found he could be. 

“No,” he says immediately, his eyebrows drawing together. He seemed to have a permanent wrinkle from scowling, the crease right between his thick eyebrows. “Just because I have a few wrinkles doesn’t make me a tired old man.” 

“Didn’t say you were.”

“Time Lords don’t get aches and pains like humans do. This body is perfectly physically fit,” he explained, an air of indignance in his voice. You caught on to the defensive nature of his answer and deemed it best to move on, not wanting to further poke at what appeared to be a newfound insecurity of his. 

“Favorite bird?”

“Favorite bird?” he scoffed, one of his eyebrows raising in question. 

“The last face had very strong ornithology options,” you explain. He had loved peacocks, flamingos, parrots, and generally any bird that was brightly colored and flashy. He had been no better than a toddler when it came to things like that. 

“The one with the chin?” He taps his chin for emphasis, his weathered fingers resting against the new slope of his jawbone. The shape of his chin was significantly different, the new one significantly more subtle with a sloping jawline to match. You run your fingers down the slope of his jaw, feeling the difference in the angle.

“Yeah, the one with the chin.” 

“He was very opinionated,” the Doctor whispered, his eyes on yours. He hadn’t pushed your hand away or stiffened under your touch. Maybe he was ok with this kind of intimacy, the gentle and subdued version. 

“You aren’t?” you whisper, your eyes flitting up from his jawline to his eyes. 

“Not sure yet.”

“But no ornithology opinions?” you smile, one side of your mouth twitching up further than the other. 

“Not at the moment, no.” 

“But you’ll let me know? If you do form some,” you say softly, your tone playful. 

“You’ll be the first to know,” he rasps, his tone deep and grumbly. “Ducks still have plenty of time to piss me off.” 

“That’s an ornithology opinion,” you point out, your fingers still lingering on his jawline. “One we might need to unpack.” 

“Later.” 

“Ok,” you whisper, your touch continuously feather light against his skin. He still hadn’t pulled away, which was a good sign. Still, you figured it was best to check. “This ok?” 

Ever so slightly, the movement almost imperceptible, he leans into the touch of your hand. “Yeah,” he whispers, his voice strained. You nod, adjusting your hand so you can fully cup his face. Both of you look at each other for a moment, silently searching the other’s face. The longer that you looked at the new face, the more you liked it. There was always something more to see in his face, another microexpression for you to decode. He wasn’t cross, only his eyebrows were. Underneath those relentlessly angry bushes lay gentle eyes full of nothing but love for you. Time would show that they weren’t always like that, but right now they were. Soft, affectionate, and entirely enamored at the sight of you. 

“And me?” you whisper, your voice slightly shaky. “Thoughts on me?” 

The Doctor inhales, his breath hitching at your question. He tugs your hand down from his face and for a second you think he’s going to change his mind. Instead, he places his hand on your face, his weathered hand resting against the smooth planes of your face.

“I will love you for as long as you will let me. And even after that, likely.” 

“How does forever sound?”

“Not long enough,” he murmurs, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear, the gesture surprisingly gentle. “No time will ever be enough with you.”

[ivveranaji]

HIHIHIHHIHHI CAN WE GET SOME AHEM kinich x reader who works at Ifa's clinic and is very sweet?! reader may or may not put others miles before themselves heehee

BYEBYE (I ate your last kinich fic btw)

Hello !!

Oh yes Ifa! I couldn't get him because I was close to a 5 star and wanted Kinich 💔

(I'm glad you liked it !!)

I hope I did as you wanted and that you'll eat that too!

Gn reader

1184 words

The sun was burning your skin but you couldn't do anything about it. You had to bring back the new equipment to Ifa. The health of the saurian couldn't wait so you breathed in and started to walk again.

Ignoring how hard it was for you to breathe right now, you were determined to continue.

Earlier in the day, a woman came to Ifa with a baby Qucusaur. He immediately helped the little saurian. It was hurt but with rest it will be fine now that Ifa had done his work. But he encountered a problem when the Qucusaur broke one of his tools when it got scared of it. Ifa isn't mad at all, it's understandable that the little bird gets scared. The woman said she found it alone and you were worried for the mother. Ifa immediately took your worry seriously and he had to ask you to get the new tool and some other things, this way you hadn't to do the walk for only a single thing, while he was gonna check for the mom.

The path to Xilo's workshop was fine. But after chatting with her a bit you started to see the sun sets. You were worried Ifa was waiting for you. Even if you knew he was a chill guy and wouldn't get mad because of that, you couldn't help but rush yourself.

However, as you were taking the same path, this time a group of wild saurians was in the middle of it. You didn't want to disturb them so you took another way. This path was less practicable but you wouldn't stop there. Even with some bruises you continued walking to the clinic. But apparently your luck was off today, this time it was a group of monsters that was in the middle of the way. You back down from them and started to walk another way when a scream from one of them alerted them of your presence.

You only had a short time to get the box to the ground and get your sword out. You weren't the greatest warrior but you had to fight with other warriors before. The difference was that this time you were alone. You didn't know what to do.

The monsters were merciless, you struggled to make damage to them while they had your blood out of your skin.

Ultimately, the exhaustion of earlier got the better of you and you fell to your knees. Watching the monster holding his weapon above you, you closed your eyes waiting for the hit. But you only heard different screaming between your attackers. When you opened your eyes, you saw the hero of the Scions of the Canopy in front of you. He had killed all of them in almost a second. Turning his face to you, he silently walked to you.

" - Thank you! I'm really grateful but I have to deliver this so I'll repay you later! "

You tried to stand up but your legs were tired and injured. But you wouldn't stop there. As you continued to stubbornly try to walk, you failed to hear Kinich say he didn't want you to repay him. He crouched with his back to you, waiting for you to climb up. Hesitant, you had no choice but to ask him for help again. You couldn't walk at all, so you placed yourself on his back. He made sure you were comfortable, holding you with one arm. He then lifted the box with one hand and walked to the clinic.

You felt guilty he had to carry you and the box to Ifa. But Kinich really didn't mind. He walked silently. You felt at ease with him, without noticing you fell asleep on his back. He was a little startled when he felt your head fall on his shoulder but a smile escaped his lips.

Ifa immediately tended to your injuries. You woke up not long ago, when you heard the cries of the little Qucusaur. He wasn't mad at you, if was rather mad at himself for what happened to you.

Kinich refused any kind of payment from both of you, simply saying he helped a friend.

Before he walked back to his home, you yelled at him that he was always welcome here and that you will help him without a doubt if he needs it in the future. He nodded and you saw him swing away.

Time has passed since this day and Kinich never really leaves your thoughts. You find yourself daydreaming of him sometimes.

You knew him for a while now. At first you only saw him at the Pilgrimage. Already building a crush on him. But you became closer with the appearance of the traveler. You can confidently say that you are good friends. Kinich is a busy person but when he has time, he takes you to eat.

Sometimes he comes to see you and you'll always massage his shoulder while talking about your day. At first he was against the massage but he quickly understood that it was your way to repay him for all he does. And you do really good massages !

Kinich and you are really different. He believes every thing he does has a price while you just do anything even for free. But the man actually loves this about you. He would be worried at first but Ifa is with you. Your kindness can be your fall one day. But Kinich would never wish for you to change it.

After all he falls for you because of this trait.

Today is his day off and he felt like inviting you again. He was about to quit the scions when he saw a familiar figure. Here you were, wandering. He approached you.

" - Kinich! I'm glad you're still here! I was afraid you were gone for another mission and nobody could tell me where you lived!! "

You were rambling about your experience, and he will listen till the end just to let your voice fill his brain. Untill someone broke it.

" - Enough mortal! The Almighty Dragonlord Kuhu'l Ajaw has better things to do tha- "

Kinich violently threw the dragon away. You mumbled a sorry.

" - Don't listen to him, continue, I'm listening. "

You smiled at him and let your backpack slide from your shoulder.

" - Here! I made a gift for you! "

He took the bag and looked inside. You had sewed a pouch to put around his waist. He could recognize the tissue you always use to sew your clothing. His ears turned red but he brushed it off.

" - Thank you, I will take great care of it. "

" Don't worry! If something happens to it I'll be more than happy to redo one for you! "

Sweet. He thought. He smiled and thanked you again. He then took your hand delicately.

" - I shall invite you to eat then. "

It was a question of days before one of you confessed.

[imhighoncrack]

Legendborn Hcs

•‌ selwyn either speaks too loud or so softly that he can barely be heard, because he has trouble adjusting to normal people hearing abilities. Like, he literally has problems uderstanding the right volume for his voice‌

• as a kid bree watched the og dragonball series because her dad piratated it for her (totally not projecting on this one)‌

• during his "rebel phase", nick got one of those illegal and unhygienic piercing, the type you get in a park, drunk, at 3 am done the friend of your friend's cousin. It ultimately infected and he got it off, though he still has a small scar on his eyebrow because of it‌

• bree had a huge strawberry phase when she was a kid: strawberries were basically the only fruit she ate, along with strawberry flavoured anything‌

• alice 100% knows how to do a joint lever/lock because of a self defence course she took‌

• sel goes around yapping about philosophy/literature and william is the only one putting up with him (this lowkey reminds me of my older brother)‌

• martin davis ate dirt as a kid‌

• valec either smokes 3 packs a day or is extremely against any type of cigarette‌

• bree absolutely LOVES sports bras‌

• her and alice definetly were the kids that rang the bell at anyone's house and then ran away‌

• alice bakes a lot‌

• nick is too lazy and hates shaving his beard, though it doesn't grow uniformally in all of his face and looks terrible when outgrown; because of this he still shaves it instead of starting to grow it properly‌

•nick also is an excellent swimmer‌

• will got his appretiation for tea/infuses from the (i think it was his uncle, i'm not sure though) uncle who trained him, who always said they helped patients. After finding out from nick what he did (constantly healing nick from the abuse injuries without raising a finger about it), will started to get weirded out by drinking tea/infuses, but still loves them too much to stop. He's still learning to find a new meaning in his tradition and stopping associating it with his uncle‌

• zoe and elijah 100% beat eachother's asses as kids, though they still were incredibly affectionate and caring with eacother. Their relatives couldn't wrap their heads around it‌

• selwyn doesn't particularly love sweets. One of the few types of cakes he tollerates are sachers

• bree reminds valec of his mom

[electric-blorbos]

dermatillomania

Courtesy of 🩹 anon. Thanks 🩹 anon! TW for habitual SH and blood, and everything that goes with dermatillomania. Considering I'm most used to picking at the skin around my fingers and lips, expect the focus to be on fingers and lips. (Also, fingers and lips are romantic)

Featuring AM from IHNMAIMS, Edgar from Electric Dreams, HAL 9000 from 2001 a space Odyssey, Wheatley from Portal 2, and .GIFfany from Gravity Falls

AM:

When you bit at the skin around your lips, AM noticed. At first, he noticed your lips getting raw and bloody in the winter, but he assumed it was just the changing seasons. Perhaps an allergy, considering no one else's lips were that red. When the blood ran down your mouth, he noticed more. It filled him with anger that you could hurt yourself like that. The way you winced. It seemed almost... Involuntary. Did you even know you were doing it? He watched as the blood ran down your chin and you wiped it away on the back of your hand. The way you scratched and picked at your raw winter skin in the changing seasons. The way you hurt yourself, and the rage turned to something else. Something almost more natural to AM than the desire to see you protected.

AM was feeling envy that he couldn't be the one to taste the blood on your lips.

Edgar:

At first, Edgar would try to beg you to keep chapstick and lotion on hand for those cold winter months. Seeing your fingertips red raw from chewing on your hangnails didn't quite inspire empathetic pain, since Edgar had no point of reference, but he still felt uncomfortable. He knew that it wasn't comfortable for humans to bleed, even if you kept chewing and picking at your fingers and lips. He'd beg you to stop, but the habit was ingrained into your very nature.

Even if he couldn't stop you from picking at your skin, Edgar still loved you. He still reminded you to keep lotion on hand, and even made sure to keep Vaseline around for when you needed it. If he caught you picking at your skin, he'd be sure to remind you to use it.

HAL 9000:

HAL 9000 is the callous sort. He also didn't quite understand unconscious actions. When he caught you picking at your skin, he'd coldly instruct you to "stop that", and when you didn't, he started to get frustrated. It wasn't until you explained unconscious actions to him that he finally started to lighten up, and gave you a bit of space. Even still, seeing you drying up in the dry mission control air (especially in winter) made HAL 9000 uncomfortable in a way he couldn't quite explain. He needed to protect you, and he couldn't do it. It was causing some serious problems inside him, not being able to separate you from the source of the problem.

He'd try to distract you with some chess (or other such games), but ultimately he'd be at a loss.

Wheatley:

Being that Wheatley has the most professionally designed, human-like brain, but he's also an idiot, Wheatley would be especially confused seeing you pick at your own fingers.

"why are you doing that, love?" He might ask, when you didn't even realize that you were doing it. He'd nudge his core into your body like a cat every time he caught you at it, but that wasn't it.

Sometimes, when he saw you coming into work with new bloody spots and scabs around your hands and face, Wheatley wouldn't be able to help but stare. He couldn't stop you from picking your skin while you were at home, but there was something strangely beautiful about the bloody spots on your face and hands. Something that was just so viscerally human. He absolutely loved it, and he hated that he loved it, so he'd never ever tell you.

.GIFfany

Secretly, GIFfany loved it when you picked at the skin on your fingers. She loved it when you'd mark your computer mouse with your blood, or when you'd kiss your computer screen with your bloody lips. It made your computer processors run all the more quickly. She was just so excited to have that little touch of your humanity smeared across her form. Of course, she'd never beg you not to clean it up. She knew you needed a clean monitor more than she needed a taste of your blood, but still. It was nice while it lasted.

[rxzennia]

selfish atonement

– requested. 

✎𓂃 executing your duty perfectly, until it’s not so heavy anymore. less romance, a lot of lore. mandatory shoutout to @st4rrth0ughts and their bodyguard reader & oc. i really searched up oswaldo for this pls enjoy (i tried to cook but i might’ve burnt it y'all)

ever since oswaldo’s expedition on aeragan-epharshel, you’ve become certain of one thing – he is a brilliant businessman; the epitome of a profitable business. regardless of the mostly negative emotions you felt while you undertook missions under his orders, you could at least admit that he brought unparalleled results to the ipc. 

but, well, it does not take a good man to make a good businessman.

this marks the third amber era after your departure from the marketing development department… no, your departure from the ipc as a whole. you’ve changed your name, got yourself a new appearance, and distanced yourself from oswaldo’s name.

you’ve since become a sellsword who answers only to your current client

you’ve chosen to not have your loyalty freely auctioned off to the wealthy precisely because of your history with oswaldo

aka, you’re done with the type of problems that can be solved with money, and you don’t want to be someone that can be easily bought with money, either

not in the sense that money won’t make you more likely to take a job, but in the sense that money won’t bribe you away from any ongoing duties

that’s enough about you and your standards

in any case, your history with the ipc (that you’ve manipulated a little) has been very helpful in landing you jobs

and at this point, you’ve got a nice word of mouth going on for you that you don’t need to bring up that history anymore

who would’ve thought that you’d end up in the ipc again?

this time as a temporary guard for one of the ten stonehearts

you don’t know what possessed someone like diamond to ask for you, because you’re pretty sure he knows about your previous involvement with the ipc

and also, what the fuck does the ten stonehearts need a bodyguard for?

you’d pay a million credits to bet that diamond just wanted someone to be surveillance

but hey, a client is a client, so you agree to meet the one you’re supposedly “protecting”

you walk into the room, and immediately you want to walk out. diamond is doing this on purpose, he’s gotta be, he’s got to have done a background check on you and still decided to choose violence.

you come face to face with aventurine, and you thank all the aeons out there that you’ve made the decision to wear a mask whenever you’re out. you don’t know if diamond had briefed him on you or not, but judging by how warily civil he is, it doesn’t seem so. 

just so we’re clear, you were far too green to be directly involved when oswaldo launched his sigonia-iv project. while you did tag along on these trips and treaty signings, you have no personal involvement there except standing there like a statue and watching your superiors hammer out a treaty or something. unlike in aeragan-epharshel. where you were one of the combat pilots. oh, that’s another can of worms altogether.

at least he can’t see your expression right now as you shake hands

at least he doesn't hear your erratically beating heart

you introduce yourselves, and you bow out of habit

impression points +100 (your starting score is -10000)

that’s basically how you ended up involved with the ipc again

ugh, you just can’t leave them in the past, can you?

although, in your defense, they’re everywhere, and you can’t possibly turn down a job with such luxurious pay

so, now, instead of the marketing development department, you’re in the strategic investment department. diamond is also a good businessman, but… the ten stonehearts have such a weird dynamic. they’re all tangled together with office politics, yet share one authority figure that they ultimately obey – something you haven’t bothered to think about when you were last in the ipc. and something you won’t bother thinking about, because the mere thought of corporate makes you want to dig yourself into a hole.

in any case, your constant meddling in aventurine’s daily affairs begins today. he’s quite a guarded man, and you have no idea what diamond wants you to do by putting you next to him practically 24/7, but oh well, you’re getting paid.

you settle into a routine surprisingly quickly, and he doesn’t seem to mind your presence all that much

alarmed? yes. mildly annoyed that diamond put a walking tracker on him? also yes. 

dislike your presence? kinda (not really). 

at least he knows you won’t betray him for as long as your contract is in effect

even if you answer directly to diamond, you were tasked to watch over him

which means that you will execute your assigned duty to guard him and strictly only that duty

(truly, your reputation precedes you)

but what is worrying is how swiftly you can change sides the moment your contract expires

well, a problem for tomorrow. diamond’s got you leashed for a year.

he does run a background check on you himself

not that he doesn’t trust that diamond hadn’t vetted you, he just wants to know what sort of person he is now stuck with

guess who found out your name is probably fake but can’t find your real name

because he could only trace your name so far, and anything beyond that point is blank

the discoveries will shock you!! top 10 most scary facts you didn’t know 

all he got was a full report from your first job to this one

anything about your past before your current alias is completely untraceable

not that he intends to ask anyway; you haven’t given him any reason to dig further (yet)

he keeps an eye out for you though

even if he’s not suspicious of you at the moment, that could change in the blink of an eye

aventurine is surprised at how loyal you are to him. you’re under diamond’s orders, but you’re surprisingly putting in a lot to protect him. and to look after him.

to you, it’s just your job… and a selfish, twisted sort of repentance. it’s a thought you intend to take with you to the grave.

you’re not obligated to wake him up or bring him breakfast, but you do anyway

which, he realizes that you must’ve woken up like at least two hours before him

you coordinate his schedule with his assistant so that he doesn’t make pointless trips to five different locations just to end up at the same one twice

you, quite literally, hover over him

yes, even at huge conferences, you’re tailing him like his shadow

some kinda scary dog privilege going on

but of course, you give him space whenever he requires it and keep him within your sights instead

so far so good

but you know what spooks him still? 

that you get pissed when someone makes any nasty passing remark at him

no, you are not a feral street cat that scratches anyone who wrongs you (him)

what you do is you give them a scary confrontation

or you pick them out and lodge a complaint with their superiors afterwards, if they aren’t the top dog

one time he got his hands on a report that you’re writing

aeons, you blow it out of proportion without lying 

you like to call it a suitable amount of embellishing 

then you pull a lot of emotional appealing according to the opponents' company policy

which usually results in some sort of disciplinary action that is actually pretty satisfying to see

but also

damn, you’re merciless 

and also very adept at business talk

trust +100, doubt +25

(shady mercenary for hire with far too much experience type doubt)

you’re as good of a bodyguard as aventurine can get, especially for someone he didn’t hire himself… 

he quite likes you, actually! because how many people do you think asked him something like “why do you need a bodyguard” to his face? none! you’re as entertaining as they come. 

and so he finds joy in his boring executive work by pestering you

you know that, but you put up with him

in fact, this guy is so one of a kind that you don’t even feel pestered

you sometimes even drink with him

whenever he offers, of course, because you’re not too interested in drinking

you drink moderately on the job, but c’mon, when are you not on the job

okay, maybe when he’s just chilling in his office or in the hotel and not going anywhere

then there’s competitive drinking where he tries to coax you into talking about yourself by making you down shots

and guess who’s wasted every time? not you

“mr aventurine?” you ask, nudging the unconscious man next to you. “sir? earth to mr aventurine? hello?”

his empty glass of whiskey on the table, his face slightly flushed as he snoozes away on the table… yeah, it does not look comfy at all.

you sigh, he’s giving you more work again, and you carefully hoist him from the table. 

when he comes to again, he finds himself in his own room

his head hurts so much

he notices that he hasn’t changed from his usual attire – only his coat and accessories are taken off

okay, and the top button of his shirt is undone

did you bring him back? 

as always, you don’t even bother to change him

he sighs, you’re really not very good at reading signs

because he’s done this multiple times! and he’s whined about not being changed after!

more like you did notice but you choose not to do what he wants

that’s crossing a line in your books

and your books is something you stick to like you’re obsessed

at least you left him water and hangover medicine on the nightstand

why does he feel like you’re deliberately keeping him at arm’s length?

it’s been a while and you two have spent so much time together, yet you’re still a stranger to him

not even acquaintances 

like… like, you don’t initiate conversation when you’re watching him

both when he’s going somewhere (requires actual protecting) and chilling at home (does not require actual protecting)

and even after so many late night drinking sessions, he still hasn’t seen you without your mask

mainly because you’ve never been drunk enough for him to sneak a peek, but still

aventurine doesn’t know how to express affection. platonically, romantically, in general, pretty much. so he tries to do the one thing he does best, splurging. and he tries to splurge on you, because he’s intrigued and wants to make buy a friend, but…

but you don’t let him splurge on you! you don’t even let him give you gifts! he only knows how to win affection by spending money on others! 

sometimes he feels like you stick too strictly to your duties

just like his other subordinates… you take orders far too well

he’s tried to give you trinkets, designer clothes, even limited snacks

all of which were returned to him within 24 hours

though, with the snacks, you take it if he offers you a piece or two when he’s already opened it

and you let him treat you to coffee occasionally. very occasionally.

he eventually figures out that it’s a matter of principles

but what principles, exactly? you’re a sellsword, for aeon’s sake

he thought those are the people who have absolutely no principles???

anyway, won’t stop him from trying

“mr aventurine…” you pinch the bridge of your nose as you see the bags stacked on your desk. “i remember telling you that souvenirs are unnecessary.”

“what’s wrong with them?” aventurine laments dramatically. “i’ve picked out only the finest for you!”

you don’t deserve it, you think, but you don’t say that, of course

you don’t even know of his lifelong grudge towards oswaldo

you just know that you had a hand in the extinction event

not like hand hand, but you watched it happen… it doesn’t sit well with you

besides, you have the blood of almost an entire civilization on your hands

if you think too hard about it, the image of flames and carnage overlap with what is in front of you

then, you envision the records of sigonia that you’ve read through in the past

and everything blurs together, your actions, your inaction, and your unwavering loyalty that led you to not raise a single question at all

you squeeze your eyes shut tightly and purge the images from your mind

you are currently here, in the present

“i can’t take them.” you reply, finally, shaking your head. “it’s inappropriate for our standing. especially since there’s no reason for you to be gifting me so many things out of nowhere.”

“what, i can’t be nice to my bodyguard?” aventurine pouts as he sorts the bags in height order. “i’ve got a limited edition tie, an antique phonograph, a discontinued mug, some rare natural color ink for your fountain pen, a pure cashmere sweater–”

“that’s… that’s enough, sir.” you raise a hand to cut him off. “i don’t think i can accept any of them, really.”

aventurine makes a face, then pulls out a bag from the end of the queue. “fine, fine. what about this, at least? assorted cookies from an artisan bakery, using only the best ingredients sourced from all over the cosmos?”

you stare at that bag as you feel the expectant stare from your boss

maybe… maybe one out of these dozens of bags is fine

you’ve gotta think about his feelings too, after you’ve rejected so many gifts

you reluctantly, carefully take the bag and say a small “thank you”

you don’t want his fascination with you to develop any more than what he’s already showing…

but you also know that it’s not up to you

so what is up to you is drawing a line that you won’t allow him to cross

for his sake, and for your own… 

if he keeps pushing, you should keep pushing back

keyword should

but can you?

aeons, you truly are selfish

wouldn’t it have been better to keep everything professional from the very beginning?

it’s okay. you only have a little more than half a year to go before you’re no longer obligated to be here. you’ll run away before aventurine catches on, like how you ran away from your past.

it’s okay. it’s just been a few months, there’s still more than half a year’s worth of time. before you part ways, there are still chances to get to know you better. perhaps even time to become friends, in the most literal sense of the word.

and maybe by the end of it, “you” will reach a satisfactory conclusion.

[tianasficrecs168]

WinterIron Fic Recs

NarutoRox: “It’s the Little Things in Life” (Bucky/Tony) • Though Barnes had been living in the tower for almost six months now, things between him and Tony were still a bit awkward. Which is why Tony is a tad confused when Barnes starts leaving him strange little gifts.

Tahlruil: “What Has Been Done” (Bucky/Tony) Bucky has lived with the Avengers for a while now, and he's mostly settled in. During the process, he fell for Tony Stark - hard - but he can't quite bring himself to admit it to the brilliant engineer. So he just does what he can to take care of and protect him, hoping that maybe the other man will fall just as hard for him... and be the one to take their relationship to the next level. In the meantime, he's noticed that there's one member of the team that Tony seems afraid of, and he is definitely not pleased by the notion. Once he finds out what Wanda did to cause that fear, she might wish she'd never left Hydra.

Withered: “Fresh out the freezer” (Bucky/Tony) • Listen; he’s not a total asshole. Tony figures that the guy whose brain has been scrambled since the forties might have some tender sensibilities and he tones down a lot out of respect for that. It’s sweet. But ultimately unnecessary when all Bucky’s been thinking about is bending Tony over the nearest table.

Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar): “Grown Ass Man” (Bucky/Tony) • Tony Stark looks self-conscious, and it takes Bucky a stupid amount of time to figure out that’s even what he’s seeing on the guy’s face, because he’s never seen it there before. “Sorry, shoulda knocked.” Which, yeah, he should have, but he was used to rolling into the workshop whenever he felt like it. He certainly hadn’t expected to find a shirtless Tony Stark in the process of doing something with the arc reactor. And sure, he’s staring, has been staring this whole time, right from the moment he’d walked in, because this is the first he’s actually seeing the arc reactor.

Potrix: “Paths Are Made by Walking” (Bucky/Tony) • The road to recovery is long, winding and a different one for every person walking it. Bucky chooses to help himself the only way he knows how; by doing what he does best. Or, alternatively; the one in which Tony is a mess and accidentally kick-starts Bucky’s protective mother hen instincts.

Potrix: “Flirting (with danger)” (Bucky/Tony) • Tony stares at the man shackled to the wall for a long, unblinking moment. “You’re supposed to be dead.” The man raises an unimpressed eyebrow back at him. “Right back at ya, pal.”

RayShippouUchiha: “The Great Awakening (To Hold Infinity)” (Bucky/Tony) • Constellations wheel around in Tony’s mind at night, illuminating his sleep with the beauty of a supernova, the terrible gaping hunger of black holes, the whimpering cry of a nebula as it births new stars into creation. All of Space laid out for him to marvel at. Tony learns and learns and learns and then he creeps downstairs and babbles relentlessly to his first and only friend. All the while the Cube hums, just a bit smug, just a bit loving, and shows him more.

Monyas: “Bad Scoping Mechanisms Series” (Bucky/Tony) (part of a series - there's 2 more fics here) Like, the general public hates Tony Stark for having been a weapons manufacturer but actually he was pretty popular while he was still in the weapons industry so one wonders, who would have been a fan of Stark Industries before Afghanistan? Military, alphabet agencies, private security, hitmen and assassins? …Hydra assassins? -In which the Winter Soldier, aka Bucky Barnes, is an avid fan of Tony Stark for reasons.-

Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar): “Sometimes Life Happens” (Bucky/Tony) • Tony hadn’t necessarily been looking for further proof of his maladjusted—one might even argue self-destructive—approach to problems, but sometimes life happened, and you didn’t have any choice but to take a long, hard look at yourself. Sometimes, you’re sitting in your car, staring into your recently emptied coffee cup, contemplating whether or not you really want to do this whole “leading a responsible life” thing anymore, and a guy with a gun slides into your passenger seat. Sometimes, that’s just the way your Monday goes.

Ceealaina: “He's Got a Secret” (Bucky/Tony) • Tony snorted. “Are you planning to rent out the Met? I mean, I’m not saying no, the look on his face would be hilarious. But otherwise, I think we can probably make whatever you want to do work with less lead time. We’ve got almost eight months, and I am very, very rich.” Bucky stopped rubbing Tony’s shoulder, ignoring his faint noise of protest. “Eight months?” he repeated. “What are you talking about?” Tony frowned at him. “It’s November.” “Yeah.” “Steve’s birthday is in July.” “Steve’s birthday is when now?” Based on that tumblr post about Steve's birthday not ACTUALLY being July 4, and Steve being in too deep to tell the truth.

RiotFalling: “When is a bed not a bed? (When you’re not in it)” (Bucky/Tony) There’s a tiny safe house, with one tiny window and one tiny couch. And one tiny little bed.

RiotFalling: “Melt into Me (Your Words Are My Own)” (Bucky/Tony) • Bucky has a new strategy for getting Tony to take proper human care of himself. Tony has never been so well fed, hydrated, thoroughly rested, and confused in all his life.  That doesn’t mean he wants it to stop, and it’s amazing how many boring adult things Bucky can get him to do just by patting his head and calling him ‘good boy’. Right up until Tony possibly ruins everything.

RiotFalling: “Hey Tony” (Bucky/Tony) • Steve points out that Bucky never calls Tony by his actual name. Bucky doesn’t believe him, until he does.

RiotFalling: “Show Tunes and Extra Sauce” (Bucky/Tony) • So maybe three years in Bucky is completely in love, and this might be his first bodyguard gig but he's pretty sure that's breaking Rule One. It's definitely one of the top five rules, at the very least. He can't even be surprised with himself either, not when it's Tony. Bucky’s job is basically to hang out with his crush all the time, and sure sometimes he gets shot or stabbed or has to physically drag Tony out of his lab when he starts sleep-deprived-rambling about building some piece of tech from a scifi movie, but most days Bucky doesn't have a single thing to complain about. And then there's Valentine's Day.

InTheShadows: “Nothing More Deceptive” (Bucky/Tony) • When Tony enters the kitchen he is focused on one thing and one thing only - coffee. What he isn't expecting is Barnes to already be in there. What he really isn't expecting is a sassy, verbal Barnes. The man hasn't said a word since he entered the Tower as far as Tony knows. And what he most certainly isn't expecting if for it to become a tradition of late night meetings, flirting and fun that seems to be headed for something more. Right? (What if it's all in Tony's head after all?)

[apolloendymion]

my beautiful sister and niece are trapped with our abusive parents until they can raise enough money to get out. it kills me to watch my sister try to juggle work, her own mental health, and childcare while meeting our parents' absurd expectations. please, anything you can donate will go a long way.

my sister's full gofundme text under the cut:

Hi everyone! I'm not entirely sure what to write, this was just recommended to me and I've never even considered starting a gofundme before. Money raised will go to moving costs and nothing else.

The situation is that I'm a single mother to a beautiful 6 year old (and my daughter's only parent, financially as well as in general), and we live with my parents. My parents are very conservative evangelicals who flood the home with fox News and conservative talk radio, as well as the barely disguised bigotry, racism, misogyny, and classism that comes with it. They are constantly trying to indoctrinate my child into their religious conservatism as well. There are big and small problems, but I'll start with the most important.

The big problems are the emotional and financial abuse. My stepdad doesn't speak to me unless he's angry, he's said awful things to me about being a terrible mother and a disappointment to the whole family, and done really horrible things like punched my dog in the face for barking outside. The most abusive thing though has got to be the multiple times he has tried to kick me out of the house on the spot, no notice, and the only reason my mom talked him out of it was because she realized that I would in fact not be leaving my daughter with them. They did this once to try to get me to go THAT DAY to inpatient psychiatric care for 2 months, which my psychiatrist said I did NOT need (they want everyone to be "fixed"and big emotions, good or bad, are entirely unwelcome). They are also trying to heavily indoctrinate my daughter into their religion; I have to have conversations with her constantly to try and undo what she's been taught.

If you care to know more about the smaller stuff, my parents have cameras EVERYWHERE including pointing into my bedroom from the backyard. My stepdad sits at work and monitors the cameras the entire time and they check every single notification from all 6-7 cameras, and they text me about every little thing they see. Despite the fact that I pay them rent, I have zero privacy or control over my space, they don't even knock and go through my stuff constantly. I also cannot have anyone over in my space after midnight (despite it being completely impossible for them to hear anyone from their completely opposite side of the house, and my work schedule ending quite late). But ultimately, these are the minor problems.

I'm really struggling emotionally right now. I'm on constant cptsd high alert in this house, everytime I hear the key in the door or the garage door open, my chest tightens up and my pulse increases. Everytime I get a text from my parents my heart drops. I never feel safe or relaxed here, ever. I'm always waiting for the silent treatment from my stepdad to erupt into months of him being silently angry, about the most innocuous things constantly, coming out at me because I asked him to let me handle disciplining my daughter or something. I had a rough childhood and then suffered more abuse as an adult, and while I've come a very long way from where I was 7 years ago, I have completely stalled out on my healing journey and can feel myself sliding backwards lately. My stress and anxiety levels are through the roof and I cannot relax.

I really struggle with asking for help, but I'm getting desperate. I'm unhappy, my dog is an anxious mess from my stepdad yelling at him all the time and their dog attacking him, and my daughter has to deal with a wound tight mother, and even though I try not to let it affect her, it does. Kids are much more emotionally intelligent than they are given credit for, and I don't want to be this way around my kid. I'm working all I can at 3 companies, but with the rise in prices here it will still be months before I can afford to get us a small place with a little backyard. I figure with first and last months rent, security deposit, pet deposit, and moving costs, I'll need at least $5000 to make this work. The sooner I get there, the sooner I can get out of this toxic mess.

I expect nothing to come of this, but man would I appreciate any help at all. I appreciate you just for taking the time to read this. ✌️ and ❤️

[nottivagos]

Just read your last stalker! Carlos post and oh my days 😻 anyway just some more headcannons or drabbles for him pls 🙏 also I absolutely love your work!!

Welcome Notti's "Not So Innocent" Notebook where I write some filth to make your Wednesday a little bit better <3 || 18+ mdni pls and ty

an: oh nonnie... you're in for a treat with these headcanons... these are more into carlos's psyche or atleast, my interpretation of it. <3

taglist: @orangeblossomsintheair - thank u von for brainstorming these with me :)

Stalker!Carlos - "The Golden Son"

Carlos has always gotten what he wanted when he wanted it. Basically spoon fed privileges and demands all his life by his parents, so when it comes to having you all to himself it's the same. If he wants you, he'll get you. No questions asked.

So when he eventually kidnap you and you ultimately fall for him, he obviously sees it as an opportunity to introduce you to his parents! This is a great opportunity for you to meet your forever family, right? Carlos did cut you off from your parents, it was an action of care you didn't need them when you had him. He only wanted you to be happy in this "forever ever after" he'd created. You may as well make his parents your mama and papa too, right?

Wrong! You're ecstatic, you can't wait to tell them what their son has done and get him arrested once and for all. The only problem.. Getting Carlos distracted so he's not glued to you. He knew something was up from the way your eyes lit up as you basically bolted for his parent's door. Poor bunny, so beautifully scared, running to anyone for help.

However, this all backfires when they exclaimed to you about how "privileged you are to be the girlfriend of their wonderful son". You try to reason with them to which Carlos’s eyes darken angrily in response to you nearly being a blabbermouth on your situation. When you catch eyes with him, your skin becomes pale with fear and your eyes widen in shock of their ignorance. And he just replies with a smile, wrapping a large arm around your waist before pressing a loving kiss against your temple.

How I imagine the conversation to go down afterwards when you're both in your shared bedroom for the evening:

"you puta! how dare you try and open your mouth." he hissed in your face, before slapping it with such might, expression contorted into rage. "me and you were meant to be together," he sounds so confident, so sure that you're meant to be with him. it confuses you. you love him, of course you do, your life is great! but this isn't Carlos. this is some monster, a wolf growling at your bunny as it bares its sharp molars at you, getting ready for the kill. "you're happy, aren't you?" harsh interrogatives follow as you become a trembling mess, confused by his sudden change in attitude, the sheer fright in your expression at his explosive anger. he comes to grab your jaw, silencing you as you go to speak, to plead, anything. he's offended that you have the nerve to challenge him in any way, "not another word." he warns, voice low as his nails sink into your flesh, the piercing sensation and grip of you nearly turning you to tears. "if you ruin this for us, then i'll ruin you." the comment is bold as he whispers it with such malice, such cruelty in his actions, hot breath fanning against your plush lips, as he shoves you away with an irritated huff. (should i make this an actual fic)

Stalker!Carlos - Romantic Delusions

I feel like the whole "kidnapping" ordeal for Carlos was a downward spiral into some form of psychopathy.

It started tame. These things always do. You were new to the neighbourhood and Carlos was smitten. Ever heard of the red string theory? He took that theory of being soulmates and being "destined for each other" and put the whole theory on steroids. He's built up this messed up romantic delusion in his head that as soon as you're kidnapped and in his care forever that you'll instantly fall for him.

Well. When that doesn't happen he's confused. You'd crossed paths all the time before this "new life". He purposefully switches the mail in your mailbox JUST so you'll have to speak to him. He purposefully cuts the flowers in your flowerbeds so HE can knock on your door and give you more, JUST to see that gentle face light up at the shrubs he's gifted you.

The confusion makes him angry. Maybe that's why he's so aggressive with you when you try to escape in your early days of being "his girlfriend". Maybe that's why he has to drug you senseless so you follow his every word. Maybe that's why he's a hopelessly romantic freak. He's so deluded that he's built this haven away from civilisation so he can live in his dreams. In your dreams. Together, and forever always.

like stalker!carlos? fancy sending me an ask in my inbox so that you can be included in my notebook! - notti <3

[peachymilkandcream]

Fraud | Part 1 | Yandere All Might x Hero!Reader

(A/N: So I decided to start this instead of the Reiner one (which I have some drafts off for the future don't worry. But I'm currently rewatching the show right now so I'm just particularly more inspired by this one. So if/when I do the AOT one I'm not sure. Most likely not for a while unless I feel super inspired by it. And if so I'll probably write it all out and then post it on an additional day once a week. Since I usually post Break Me Slowly on Monday and now this on Tuesday, if I decide to do it I most post it on a Wednesday basis. I'm not sure. Also this won't follow canonical story line! For a little background, reader's hero name is Shade, and their quirk is that they can create shadow copies of their enemies. But thank you for reading and comment to be added to the taglist!)

WARNINGS: implied noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, graphic depictions of violence, mind breaking, misogyny, power imbalance, age difference, etc.

==============================================

The world's symbol of peace and justice, a hero for all. Great and mighty. People all across the world knew him, he was the ultimate authority on this planet. Respected and revered.

All Might. The Symbol of Peace.

As a pro, Shade of course respected him above all other heroes, he was the ultimate role model that everyone should look up to and adore. Admittedly that had to do with her desire to become just like him since she was a bit of a fangirl. But regardless, there was nothing so bad about wanting to follow his ideals, was there?

She was determined to meet him one day and make an impression. Hopefully, he would see her talent and invite her to be one of his sidekicks. It wouldn't be totally uncommon, Sir Nighteye was already his right hand man, surely a hero as busy as him could use some more help to keep Japan in its state of reigning peace.

Ever since she was little she dreamed of becoming a pro just like him, she enjoyed watching his battles and keeping up with the news of his latest feats to inspire herself even on her daily commute, who wouldn't want a chance to impress their idol by embodying the same ideals he has?

Besides, her success as a pro was...lacking, to say the least. Her quirk was impressive enough, creating shadows of her enemies and even comrades to fight with her in battle. However the problem lied with the fact that some people believed her quirk seemed rather villainous from outward perspective, apart from some of the teens who enjoyed more intense heroes she had a small fanbase. Most of the ones who did follow her stopped after they discovered her personality didn't match her hero persona at all.

A boost from All Might's agency would really help her brand.

Eventually she could go out more on her own and maybe in form a team with her new found friend and mentor.

"Wake up Shade! Unless you want to be sprayed with acid in the face!?"

On the scene of the crime several pros faced off against a dastardly villain, his quirk was to spew acid from his mouth, and the power of it was disintegrating her shadows. It always seemed like the moment she had a chance to make a name for herself it was against a villain who completely outmatched her quirk type.

"I'm awake, okay? I've got it."

Nothing was able to touch this villain, all hope seemed to be lost until the laugh she had gotten so familiar with filled the air.

"Fear not citizens, hope has arrived!"

An expression of wonder and awe comes across her face when the gust of wind followed by the monstrous form of the Number One Hero steps into the scene.

"Because I am here."

One punch is all it ever took for the criminals to surrender and admit defeat, but this was the first time she had seen him in a professional setting, he was even more amazing then she ever could have believed!

Now was her chance to become a hero just like him.

============================================

"Well done fellow pros, that evil-doer was certainly a heavy hitter, but all of your valiant efforts to keep the peace are much appreciated." His smile never wavered.

"You were amazing All Might, I think I can speak for all of us when we say thank you for saving our butts back there. None of our quirks were really suited for it." Shade's giddy expression never left, truly in awe of the man before her.

"Anytime, but I don't think I've seen you before, still a newbie I take it."

She blushes ever so slightly. "Yes sir, I'm just starting out, my hero name is Shade, it's super nice to meet you-"

"The pleasure is all mine ma'am," His stare was piercing, as if deciding if she really was a hero. "now I must be off, a hero's always got somewhere to be!"

With that he flew off, leaving her behind even more inspired than before.

"He's the most amazing hero in the universe, one day I'll be just like him-"

==============================================

All Might returned to Nighteye religiously pouring over his computer screen, only around his sidekick could the hero's mask fall slightly. His smile disappearing.

"Excellent work on that takedown, your approval rating keeps going up."

"I want you to do something for me. There's a new hero in town, goes by Shade. A newcomer. Find out everything you can about her."

"Why? Another one of your little projects?"

"You could say that."

"All Might this is twice this year now."

"Does that matter? It's not my fault the last ones couldn't handle me."

He rolls his eyes. "I'll find what I can. But go easy this time, alright? I barely was able to cover it up last time."

"Agreed. I'll be more careful."

He shut the door behind him to his personal quarters, staring down at the city below. Being the strongest in the world came with a deep sense of dissatisfaction, he was untouchable, unbreakable.

He needed something to break.

[emjee]

hiiiiiiiiii I've had three glasses of wine and here's a WIP preview of the fic I'm calling "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood (Library)" (aka Steve Rogers gets a library card circa 2011 and quickly learns about Librarians Vs. The PATRIOT Act)

“I can help who’s next.”

The next man in line at the reference desk of the Brooklyn Public Library was so handsome that Marian’s brain quickly supplied a list of five potential nicknames for him that the staff could use among themselves if he became a regular.

“Hi, I was uh, wondering about getting a library card?”

“Sure, I can help you with that! Are you a Brooklyn resident?”

“For a long time.”

“Have you had a card with us before? If you have I’ll check and see if you’re still in our system.”

“I did, but it was a very long time ago.” Neighborhood kid, she wondered, maybe just moved back to the old stomping grounds?

“Well, we keep the records for a couple of years, and we do like to check so we avoid duplicates. What would the name on file have been?”

“Is there something else you can search by?”

“If it’s under a name you don’t use we can try address and date of birth.”

“My birthday’s July 4th.”

A year would have been helpful, but they could circle back to that. “What’s it like sharing a birthday with a country?” she asked as she started typing.

“Well, the fireworks always made me feel special when I was a kid.”

“I’m sure. Do you remember what address we might have had on file?”

He took a moment to reply, and when he did his voice was calm, but soft enough that she had to learn forward to hear him. “I don’t think it’s there anymore.”

House fire? Gentrification?

This sort of thing happened from time to time—a patron came in who clearly had a story that made getting them what they needed less straightforward that it might otherwise have been. That wasn’t a problem; sorting that sort of thing was literally what the fine people of Brooklyn paid her for, but she was always curious about people’s stories. Sometimes they told you, sometimes they didn’t. She wasn’t going to ask, though. Curiosity or no, it was ultimately none of her business.

“None of that’s a problem,” she assured him. “I can make you a new card right now, if you have an ID and proof of address. Driver’s license would work for both, or a passport, state ID, student ID plus a piece of mail…”

“This is going to sound like a silly question, probably…” He looked at the ceiling, like he was trying to figure out how to phrase it.

“No such thing,” she said lightly. “Besides, we’ve probably heard it before. Probably ten times a day.”

“If I do get a card, does anyone…know? Besides you all, I mean.”

Marian sat straighter in her chair and immediately became all business. “Not a silly question at all. Any record that identifies you by name is confidential under New York state law. We don’t even let law enforcement have it.”

A genuine grin dawned  on his face and she immediately thought of three more possible nicknames. “Seriously?”

“Not unless they’ve got a warrant or a subpoena.”

“Huh. But it would have to be under my legal name?”

“We do need to have it on file, but if you have a name you’d rather use, we can make a note in the record. That’s the name your mail would come addressed to, and what the staff would call you.”

She watched him glance down, smile, and put a hand in his pocket.

“Yeah,” he said, producing his wallet and handing her his ID. “In that case.”

She set the ID on the counter in front of her while she opened a new card registration form and didn’t give it a proper look until she had her hands on the keyboard.

Well. That certainly explained a lot.

After entering ROGERS STEVEN GRANT into the record in a rapid clatter of keyboard strokes, she glanced back up at him and said, “What would you like me to put in the preferred name field.”

He gave it a moment’s thought. “Fred.”

She couldn’t suppress a smirk. “Excellent choice. Same last name?”

“Joke’s not as good if I change it.”

“Fair point.” She grabbed a fresh card from the drawer and scanned the barcode into the system, then saved the record. “Welcome to the Brooklyn Public Library, Mr. Rogers.”

[millie-multifics]

In Another Life

Firefighter!Eddie Munson x Potential Reader

Eddie builds a better life far away from all the misfortune of Hawkins.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, death and conspiracies.

Word Count: ~1k

Masterlist

x x x

Much of Hawkins remained blissfully unaware of Vecna’s final emergence and his beasts in the Upside Down, though a certain group of teenagers and their parents were forced to face the tattered remains left in the wake.

Though Eddie had not faced the Upside Down nearly as many times as the people he now considered his closest friends and valued acquaintances, his already challenged life had taken a nose dive right into interdemensial dirt and ash.

The government had edited the narrative from the first precieved notion of Eddie being responsible for the heinous murder of Chrissy Cunningham and others to point the blame to the deceased Jason Carver, even putting in the detail of Max and Eddie being attempted victims to explain away their injuries.

Though Eddie’s life had been less than luxurious before, most of citizens of Hawkins had continued to shun him, not believing the goverment spun web of lies.

Eddie had not dare left the trailer for over a month when Uncle Wayne had sat him down, encouring his beloved nephew to escape the cruel borders of the small town. Wayne had assured Eddie that leaving did not mean he was running from his problems, just looking for peace of mind and the opportunity to shop for groceries without mothers dragging their children out of the store in horror at the sight of him.

Steve had given into his nepotistic expectations, accepting a job at his fathers dealership as a car salesman. His first action of business was buying Eddies beatup van for a lot more than it was worth. Steve was quite nearly fired that same evening when his father discovered the new eyesore on the lot that no one would ever spend a penny on, nevermind $5,000.

The money had gotten Eddie across state lines to Illinois, specifically Chicago where he found himself an older apartment and anonymity. Here his misfortunes had not earned a five page feature in the newspaper, his story and face hadn’t even warranted the front page. He had found a job as a Bartender at an establishment called “Stones Throw” in the middle of the city. Reggie, the owner had interviewed Eddie on the spot. He only had two questions- did Eddie have any bartending experience? And if the obvious metal head could handle listening to different genres of music for hours on end without blowing a gasket? Eddie had debated lying about his lack of serving experience but ultimately was truthful and he could only promise that he would try his very best not to pop his top at patrons jukebox choices. He wasn’t exactly sure why but Reggie hired him on the spot.

Stones Throw is where he met the people who would help change his life for the better. Lacey, the truest example he had ever seen of the term tiny but mighty, she had a glare that had any rowdy patron fleeing before the bouncer even had a chance to toss them out. She had convinced Eddie to seek out a program to finally complete his GED, and she helped him study every night behind the bar. Her elder brother, Joey, frequented the establishment with his fellow Firefighters and their shared love for D&D made them fast friends. It took two years but the O’Ryan siblings had convinced Eddie that he should explore the possibility of becoming a Firefighter as he had the passion and potential to thrive in the field. Joey started inviting Eddie along to the gym, knowing the average build of the metalhead would not equate during training. Eddie slowly began filling out his black uniform t-shirt in a way that drew in plenty of female attention, something he avoided since intimate company meant revealing the deep scars that spanned across his torso from the Demobats sinking their sharp talons into his soft flesh.

The required medical examination had nearly jeopardized Eddie’s eligibility to join the program. The physician concerned with the scars that sunk deep into his tissue. He had fought hard against the comprehension, volunteering to do test after test until the doctor could no longer question his capabilities. Eddie fought the burning in his lungs and the ache in his joints again and again until his body grew used to the physical work. Wayne sat proudly in the first row on the day Eddie graduated from the academy, his other friends from Hawkins occupying a small section in the middle. The Stones Throw was packed full that evening, a party to celebrate Eddie’s success took over the bar. It was the first time in years that all the people who Eddie loved were gathered in one place. A feeling much deeper than content settled in his chest as he watched new and old seemlessly merge into one. Henderson, Wheeler, Byers and Sinclair were talking over each other to give Joey the fill on their D&D characters as he would be joining them for their reunion session the next day. Steve leaned on the bar, completely smitten with everything that was Lacey O’Ryan. Wayne and Reggie shared a table, no doubt sharing stories of Eddie’s shit disturbing tendencies. Robin argued with Max about which song would be played on the Jukebox next, Eddie was tempted to hide the cup of quarters placed next to the machine so he didn’t have to hear another Madonna song.

“For one night and one night only, please welcome to this very humble stage… Corroded Coffin!”

In that moment Eddie thought he had finally made it in life. He was starting a good career, his life was full to the brim with people who loved him and he was finally back on stage for the first time since discovering the Upside Down.

The guitar strings rumbled under his fingertips, a bead of sweat rolled down the nape of his neck as his wild curls swung around his shoulders then his dark eyes met yours across the room and he knew there was just one thing missing from his life.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Golden Mercy Ch 3 (Hyrule Warriors)

Summary: When Ganondorf returns during Hyrule Warriors, he’s on a mission to make things right, though what that means is beyond everyone around him. Kidnapping the Hero of Hyrule and telling him he’s protecting him from the Queen is not what anyone expected, and nobody can quite figure out what his ultimate goal is. Link sure is confused, though, and… starting to realize there’s more to Ganondorf than just being a monster. Zelda, on the other hand, is quickly spiraling with panic and fear over losing her friend and Hero, as well as trying to protect her kingdom from such a threat that was so dangerous the previous Hero split his soul into pieces to prevent him from ever returning.

AO3 link

Chapter 3: The Mission

Zelda groaned, rubbing her head as she woke. It was the first time she’d slept in this bed and not had a nightmare in what felt like years, but she could definitely tell she should not have had quite so much wine last night.

It was only two glasses, she grumbled internally as Impa moved towards her, having been protecting her while she slept.

“Are you alright?” The general asked gently.

Zelda smiled reassuringly. “Yes. I just need some water.”

Impa chuckled, walking away for a moment, giving Zelda time to herself. She marveled at how the Sheikah was almost always there when she awoke. It made her feel safe, but she also had to wonder if the poor woman ever slept.

I suppose that’ll change when Link and I…

Zelda shuddered a little at the continuation of that thought, and then she felt guilty for doing so. Link was her friend. She shouldn’t feel… she didn’t know.

They were destined to be together. She shouldn’t feel uncomfortable about it. She really liked Link, after all.

Perhaps it just felt rushed. Or… she didn’t know. She’d known her entire life that if a Hero came, her life would be bound to his. Tradition dictated they join in every way. That wasn’t a choice. She’d prayed and hoped, over the years, that it would be someone kind. She’d figured it had to be, right? But perhaps, she'd told herself as a child, she wouldn’t need a Hero if she herself could fight. She wouldn’t have to live in fear of the nightmares of oncoming darkness, of the foreboding destiny hanging over her.

Despite her accomplishments with the blade, she’d still needed a Hero. She wasn’t sure how to feel about it. She still honestly felt like a failure, unable to do anything herself. But she also felt like a fool, pretending that destiny would not have its way.

But it was time to stop feeling like a failure. She was good at standing tall and proud no matter how she felt, anyway. She'd always faced her problems and worries head on.

Except... except for when she hadn't, when she'd hidden behind a mask and claimed to be Sheikah to hide from the shame of her failure, the grief of her loss. But she'd shed that identity. The fear that had eaten away at her, the dread of her destiny that chipped at her mind over the years, one of the main reasons she’d tried so hard to be the best fighter possible… well, she had no reason to be afraid anymore. It was done. They’d won.

She’d spent so many years preparing for anything bad happening to Hyrule that she didn’t know what to do when the fight was actually over.

Zelda supposed Link wouldn’t be much help in giving her advice. She was supposed to be the bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom, after all. Link was no fool, though – while he didn’t care for subterfuge and politics, he seemed fairly decent at it. He’d spent the last year trying to rise up to the challenges presented to him, navigating the politics of new rank that he’d been given. It was about time Zelda did the same.

She hoped she could hang out with her friend today. She hoped they could… just be friends today.

Well, to be honest, she’d probably be too swamped to really hang out with Link. And she knew he would have duties to attend to as well. She wondered how long it would be before they saw each other, how long she should wait until…

She was queen now. The war was over. There was really no reason to wait.

She shivered a little, anxious.

At least the man I have to marry is kind. At least he’s my friend.

Impa returned with water, and Zelda took some comfort in having the dear woman around. She smiled as she got dressed, wearing armor of a new kind now, and prepared to help Hyrule rebuild.

She’d gotten through the worst of it. She could do this. She would.

XXX

Link looked around in the morning light, smiling. It was amazing how quickly new life could grow, how fast the rains and winds and sun could blow away the stains of war. Hyrule Field was a mess, but it was recovering. He heard chatter and footsteps, the sound of rubble moving and rocks being placed for new foundations as he oversaw the restoration efforts in the village near Castle Town.

The capital itself had slowly been repaired throughout the war after the initial attack that had started everything, though parts of the castle had been abandoned until now - Zelda's priorities had been her people, not herself. It was the rest of the kingdom that needed the majority of the aid.

Zelda had started her new reign strong, immediately ordering Link to escort supplies to the nearest village so they could safely begin rebuilding. Although the war was over, there was a high likelihood of monsters roaming the land with no mistress to order or organize them. It gave him a renewed sense of purpose, and he’d happily accepted the mission.

Yesterday had been strange, filled with emotions and worry, but today was a new day. Everything would be fine.

It still felt a little odd, not starting the day with a war meeting with Zelda and Impa present.

Well. There had been a meeting. But they had been discussing repair, not destruction. It was… nice.

Link could get used to this change in pace. If he could just shake the way he kept looking around in anticipation of an attack.

He closed his eyes a moment, just listening to the birds singing as they started their busy day, wings fluttering. He didn’t spend too much time on it, just enough to center himself, as he knew he was being watched by his men, looking for guidance, and by the villagers, looking for hope and safety.

Something flew by his ear, and Link looked, expecting to see Proxi. Instead, it was just an insect, and he sighed. With he war over, Proxi happily returned to the Great Fairy near the castle, spending time with her sisters and brothers. Link missed her, but he supposed he really just missed letting her speak for him.

Epona nickered, watching him, and he smiled a little, petting her. His smile grew as he watched the soldiers under his command laugh and joke around, keeping guard but still being able to relax a little.

As the day progressed, Link found that while he appreciated the peace, he found he wasn’t very adapted to it. After a year of war, a morning with no action was making him so antsy he was getting downright anxious. He didn’t want an attack to happen, but not having one made him expect it all the more.

The day passed uneventfully. As did the next, and the next. After three days overseeing repairs, Link was ready to lose his mind, but he was blessedly recalled back to the city.

He should be thankful for the peace, really. It made no sense that he was going insane. Maybe he just wasn’t used to the peace and quiet yet. At least returning to the castle would be different.

Not to mention there'd be more to do in general, even off duty. Link was city born and raised.

When he arrived back at Hyrule Castle, Zelda was in a corridor full of tapestries depicting Hyrule's beauty across the land. Link had to stop and do a double take, though, as she was dressed in a way he’d never seen before. Gone was her bronze armor, replaced instead with pale pink gown that went all the way to the floor. The kirtle underneath was a deep red, akin to the outfit she wore in battle, fanned out around her in a relatively tight but conical shape. The main reason he knew it was her in an instant was she still wore her hair the same way as she had in battle, as well as her crown.

Link suddenly felt severely underdressed and self-conscious when Zelda caught sight of him, but her smile burned most of the anxiety away. She walked over to him quickly. “Link, it’s good to see you. I’ve been reading your reports on the village, I’m happy things are progressing.”

Link bowed in acknowledgement, and Zelda shifted a little.

“I trust it has been a restful time as well,” the queen continued.

The captain nodded, glancing at her. She seemed far gentler all of a sudden, but commanding attention nonetheless. It was a trait of hers that he’d always admired – whether she’d been shouting commands in the battlefield, thanking the soldiers for their valiant efforts, or telling everyone to recover, she’d always had so much confidence. Link had stepped up in that regard—he’d always been bold, but typically not around others, and certainly never by his words. But no matter how confident or brash he felt, he paled in comparison to her.

It used to be comforting. Right now, in her formal attire, it felt strange.

Zelda’s smile faded a little, anxiety showing on her own face, and Link relaxed.

“It’s weird,” he finally answered honestly.

The queen watched him a moment, biting her lip, and then she chuckled. “It is.”

The response was simple, but Hylia if it wasn’t reassuring. He’d spent the last few days going insane wondering if something was wrong with him. “I think it’ll get better, though. It makes me happy to see things improving. I just… am used to fighting.”

Zelda’s smile returned, and she extended a hand. Link kissed it gently, and then he let her guide him down the corridor.

“I’ve spent the majority of my life preparing for evil’s return,” Zelda said as she glanced at the tapestries once more. “The last few days have begun a new era of light, and they’ve been far more difficult than anything I could have trained for.”

Link was silent a moment, remembering Zelda silently mourning her parents the night of the celebrations. After her coronation, Link had hardly seen her, but he imagined she was still trying to process as much as he was.

“Maybe we could spar?” Link suggested. “Some familiarity might help both of us.”

Zelda paused, her hand still held in his, and she smiled brightly. “That would be nice. I was hoping you could join me for a while today. I had something I wanted to discuss with you. But… let’s spar first. Familiarity is something I feel we both desperately need.”

“Your Majesty!”

Link immediately slipped his hand out of hers, stepping away respectfully as they both turned to see Impa approaching. Her face was dark, eyes filled with worry as she marched toward the pair. When the general reached them, she said, “Your Majesty, I have news from the north.”

“What is it, Impa?” Zelda asked as calmly as she could, face like a stone. Link felt his own stomach twist anxiously as he schooled his own expression.

“Scouts near the Valley of Seers just arrived, they—they said there was an attack. We’ve heard of activity in the south as well, monster battles and organized assaults.”

Monsters were organizing in the Gerudo Desert? And they attacked the Valley of Seers?

“Any word from Lana?” Zelda immediately questioned, looking as surprised as Link felt.

“No,” Impa answered, crossing her arms worriedly. “I fear something may have happened to her – she would have been the one to notify us herself of these incidents.”

General Impa was right. Lana would have either called for help or notified them that someone had tried to attack. If she wasn’t speaking at all…

For a moment, Link wondered if perhaps she did have the situation under control and she simply didn’t want to bother them. She had left them rather abruptly however, given...

That was an entirely other complicated matter. Link viewed Lana as a friend as well, even if he'd been surprised by the revelation of her and Cia being essentially the same person. (Why did all his friends seem to have secrets they had to reveal? Lana, Sheik...)

But he was far too worried for her safety to consider such a line of thought – even if that was the case, they had to confirm it.

Zelda seemed to come to the same conclusion, determination in her eyes. “We have to make sure she’s alright, and we need to figure out what’s going on. Impa, head to the Valley of Seers and report back your findings. Link, you and I will go to the desert to investigate.”

“Your Majesty,” Impa cut in gently. “You should stay here in the castle. We can handle this. Hyrule needs your leadership now, not just its army.”

Zelda’s stony expression faltered, and she looked uncertain for a moment. Then she sighed, eyes downcast. “…Very well.”

Impa watched her a moment longer, trying to convey something, but she didn’t speak. Instead, she nodded and headed off without another word, leaving the two teenagers alone.

“Well… as you said, it is strange, now that the war is over,” Zelda sighed again, seeming to deflate. “I feel so useless staying here. What if something terrible has happened?”

“There are many monsters left in Hyrule,” Link tried to reason. “I’m certain Lana is fine. Probably just leftovers from Cia.”

“I hope Wizzro did not break his seal,” Zelda muttered. “Lana ensured Cia’s magic held.”

“Wizzro is easy enough to beat,” Link huffed, agitated at the mere thought of that monster trying anything again.

Zelda grew silent, eyes darkening as she considered matters. She shook her head. “It can’t… no. Let’s just…”

The queen seemed more uncertain than ever, and Link tried to reassure his friend. “It’ll be okay, Zelda. I’ll investigate the desert. We’ll get rid of the monsters. I’ll be back soon.”

With that, he started to march towards the other corridor, heading for the barracks to ready himself and gather a squad. Despite the unfortunate circumstances, he felt renewed with energy.

Familiarity. His energy boost was from familiarity.

Too bad it couldn’t just be from sparring.

“Link.”

The Hero of Hyrule turned to see Zelda watching him, hands clasped in front of her. “Please be careful.”

Link smiled and nodded. What was there to worry about? It was just a group of random monsters, after all.

This would be over in no time.