#It wasn't the best day but it was preparing to have new better efficient days that mealprepping was an important step for

[chatonmagique]

I mealprepped. I really needed it to save time to work on something else without other distractions and priorities. Put a bunch of effort in making a big meal out of mostly freshly cut veggies, including an entire pumpkin. It was enough to feed us for a couple of days and put some in the freezer and.. I left it out of the fridge.. overnight and now I can throw all the time and energy and wasted food away because I failed to remember to put it in the fridge.

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Whumptember day 7

7. “No one will believe you”

Behind closed doors | Fake smiles | Touch aversion 

It was an hour into the press conference, and Sidekick could tell Hero was starting to crack. They hid it reasonably well. The smile plastered on their face looked genuine enough, their poster only slightly more tense than what was expected for a relatively new hero. But Sidekick could tell, from the way they flinched at every word of praise they received, from how their hands shook, that they were barely holding it together.

Sidekick saw another journalist approaching Hero, clearly seeking a scoop on their most recent battle, and decided enough was enough.

It wasn't hard to make an excuse. A drunken laugh, a stumble with a drink in their hand, and Sidekick was free to take Hero away to help them clean their champagne soaked outfit. It was easy to slip out of the party at that point, bringing Hero to their own room. 

The second the door closed behind them, the false smile fell from Hero’s face. They groaned, a pinched look on their face. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t take it,”

Sidekick reached a comforting hand out. " Hero, I know–"

Hero swatted them away. "No you don't!" they hissed, glaring."Villain's dead.  We killed them and—and everyone's congratulating me on a job well done! I can’t keep doing this!" 

Hero was pacing now, fingers digging into their scalp. "Villain don't deserve this! I know they’ve hurt people, I know that! I know I know but–” a sob wracked their body as they gasped through tears. “They didn’t have to kill Villain. They don’t have to act like I should be happy they’re gone!”

Hero stumbled into the bed and sat, fingers tangled in their hair. Hesitantly, Sidekick moved to sit beside them. Hero didn't look up.

“Everyone’s saying I did it, that it’s my victory because they were my nemesis,” Hero whispered, voice shaking. “But I would have never done this. I wasn’t even there; If I’d been, I would never have let this happen.”

“I know you wouldn’t have. Well all know that,”

Sudekick's words only seemed to make Hero's tears flow more freely. "But everyone’s acting like I did! Superhero keeps saying I killed them, and everyone just believes them, " Finally, Hero turned to face Sidekick. A heartbroken look was etched in their face, eyes wet and searching. “Why–why would they lie about this?”

Because it was efficient. The truth was on the tip of Sidekick’s touch, and for a long moment they were tempted to speak. If Superhero wanted someone gone, they’d be gone, end of story. But someone like Villain couldn’t just disappear without an explanation, and Superhero couldn’t justify killing a small-time criminal without public backlash. It would seem cruel, a slaughter rather than an act of justice.

But Hero, the far less experienced member of the agency, being forced to kill Villain in a tough battle? That was an acceptable justification. Hero was simply a scapegoat.

But Sidekick said none of that. They’d learned better long ago. Instead, they sighed, resting their hand on Hero’s knee. “Just…I know it’s hard, but Superhero must have a reason. Everyone at the agency knows you couldn’t have done it, and that’s all that really matters. Who cares what the public thinks?”

Hero’s face fell. “It hurts,”

“I know it does, but it’s for the best. Just please,” Sidekick’s voice sharpened against their will, and they struggled to keep their hold on Hero gentle. “Please just go along with this for now. Superhero has their reasons.”

For a moment, Sidekick thought they would argue. They prepared themselves for it, prepared themselves for the righteous fury, for Hero to storm into Superhero’s office and vanish just like everyone else who stood up to them. But Hero didn’t. They simply game a shuddering breath, burying their head into Sidekick’s shoulder as they cried.

“I loved Villain. We—I loved them,” Hero’s voice was barely a whisper. It made Sidekick’s heart ache. 

They could only pull Hero closer. “I know.”

[vera-deville]

Request! Marinette becoming a wereladybug (oneshot)?

02/23/2023 - 02/28/2023

Pairing: No pairing! Just a one shot about Marinette/Ladybug.

Word Count: 1,533

Warnings: Being bitten by a weird ass ladybug; Season 4 spoilers; Marinette's in love with Adrien

Gender: Gender Neutral

In which Marinette gets bitten by rather odd ladybug.

This was definitely not what Marinette had signed up for.

One day, she was clumsily getting ready for school, and on her way, she had to drag an old man who was caught up in his own little world onto the sidewalk before he was hit by an oncoming vehicle on the road.

This resulted in her dropping many of the macarons her father had lovingly prepared for her first day of school, and she was running a bit late.

Time skip to quite some time later, and now this once (relatively normal) teenager was now juggling a very busy life. One filled with school, with friends, with love, and most importantly, with superheroes.

She was now the famous Ladybug, the protector (amongst a few others) of Paris, the guardian of Paris, the...there were honestly so many names that she couldn't keep track of them all.

And after many ups and downs (and everything in between), Marinette seemed to have her life sorted out, calmed down, and easy to manage for the most part. She fell into a sort of routine, juggling the duties of a school student, an artist, a good friend, and a superhero all together rather efficiently.

For once, she wasn't incredibly overwhelmed every single day.

And that's why they call it the calm before the storm.

It was just like any other day. Mr. Ramier had been akumatized into Mr. Pigeon for the umpteenth time in their lives, but had successfully been saved from wreaking more pigeon-related havoc upon the bustling city of Paris (filled with people who had far better things to be doing that worrying about a man floating around on a flock of pigeons). Of course, school was still in progress, and of course, Adrien still looked as perfect and sweet as ever.

Alya had some new videos to post on her blog, and she asked Marinette for feedback regarding the videos, because who better to ask the quality of videos about Ladybug than Ladybug herself?

It still took some getting used to in regards to the fact that Alya was now one of the very select few that new her secret superhero identity, as well as the fact that she was now much more open about asking her stuff for the Ladyblog. It was sweet, but almost surreal. Like she was a third person watching two people interact, when in actuality, she was one of them.

Confiding in Alya had been a nerve-wracking decision to make, without a doubt. And while it did present certain cons, the pros were far too good to ignore. Things were much easier now, much more convenient, especially since she could trust her best friend so much. Alya was a life-saver. Literally.

And it was at moments like this where she desperately needed Alya.

On the way home from school, Marinette stopped by some flowers in the sidewalks that looked particularly beautiful, and found herself inspired to sketch out a few designs. And that's when she noticed the little splotch of red, striking against the pinks and yellows of the flowers.

Marinette had a sort of affinity for ladybugs. This was a given, seeing as she was the holder of the ladybug miraculous.

So, in a moment of fascination, Marinette included the tiny beauty in her sketches, and as she was furiously sketching out a particular design, she felt a spot on her arm tickle. Whipping her head towards the direction of the sensation, Marinette noticed that the ladybug was now on her arm. And looking closely at it, she noticed that this particular ladybug looked a little different from other ladybugs.

It had a primarily white head with black spots. Most ladybugs didn't have that. And unlike most ladybugs, it had a more orangey hue rather than red. It was also much bigger than the ladybugs she was used to seeing. Plus, it had lots of black spots. The ladybugs she usually saw only had seven.

Shaking her head, Marinette tried to get the last details in her sketch before she headed home. Key word being "tried."

Marinette felt a sudden and sharp pain and tried to locate the source of the pain. It felt like a sharp nip, and oddly enough, it was from where the ladybug was sitting on her arm. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the thing had bitten her.

Lightly yelping, Marinette swiped the ladybug off her arm (albeit gently, as she couldn't bring herself to injure it gravely) and studied the now red spot on her arm. The nip was still stinging, although not as bad as before.

She didn't even know that ladybugs could bite-

After reaching home, Marinette noticed that the itching that accompanied the bite had gotten worse and when she took a look at the bite, she almost yelped once again.

The redness had spread and it seemed like rashes were also a thing now. Worried that she was having an allergic reaction, Marinette was about to tell her mother about the weird ladybug when she heard screaming.

Rushing up to little terrace, she saw an akumatized villain on the loose, wreaking havoc (as they do).

Letting out a sound of frustration, Marinette exclaimed, "d, spots on!"

The transformation sequence felt...odd. But unfortunately, Ladybug didn't all the time in the world to dwell on it, as she currently had something to do. Swinging her way to the scene of the akumatized victim, she was met with Chat Noir.

"Hey Bugaboo~ Woah-"

Frowning, Ladybug asked, "what?"

"Love the new style Milady!" Chat Noir replied.

"What do you mean new style?" Ladybug asked.

Confused, Chat Noir pointed out the antennae sticking out of her head, the wing-like flaps she had that were hanging off her shoulders, and the orangey-tint to her once blood-red costume. Shocked, Ladybug opened her yoyo to see if Chat Noir was just messing with her, but alas. The one time she sorely wished her crime-fighting partner was joking, it had turned out to not be the case.

Ladybug could feel herself spiraling and before Chat Noir could voice his concerns about her not looking too good, Ladybug told him that she had some things to figure out, but first, they had an akumatized villain to take care of.

And just as usual, the unstoppable duo dealt their hand and had restored peace to Paris (definitely not for long, since Hawkmoth had apparently never heard of a break). Chat Noir questioned Ladybug once again in regards to how she was doing and if he could help in any way.

Smiling, she assured him that once she figured things out, she would tell him herself.

Chat watched the love of his life swing away, smiling, but clearly worried about her. Looking over the beloved city he called home, he called it a day and headed home.

Back on Ladybug's end, she'd entered her room through the rooftop and immediately ran to the mirror to study her appearance. It was so odd. There was no particular reason for her to have her superhero appearance change so suddenly, and she had no idea what could have spurred it.

Reaching for her yoyo, she dialed Alya and told her to get to the bakery stat. Within some time, Alya was in Marinette's room, confused but also very fascinated by the new look her best friend now donned.

"I got bitten by this really weird ladybug today, and I had this sort of allergic reaction some time later, and now, EVEN MY SUPERHERO COSTUME HAS BEEN INFLUENCED BY IT!" Ladybug ranted.

Alya asked Ladybug to de-transform, that way they could figure some things out. So, Ladybug said, "Spots off."

Marinette felt a little weird. The scent of baked goods was always present in her house (seeing as they did live right above their bakery), but for some reason, the smell seemed even more stronger. So strong that she gagged a bit. Another thing she noticed was that her eyesight was a bit blurry. But the blurriness went away as soon as it came (luckily).

Alya asked her strange questions. And after experimenting for a number of days, the two girls had reached a conclusion. Marinette now had superpowers that were not related to her miraculous. And it was most probably due to a bite by a really weird ladybug. One that could have been radioactive for all they knew.

Alya explained to Marinette that there was this comic series that she had been obsessed with for man years now where the main character had been bitten by a radioactive spider and then he gained real-life superpowers as a result of it. And a lot of the things that he had matched with the things Marinette had. Heightened senses (minus the eyesight; at times it would get blurry) seemed to be the most easily recognizable change in Marinette.

It took some getting used to, but Marinette had the kwamis and Alya (and later Chat Noir once she explained the basis of her situation without getting into the details to him). Besides, it's not like her blood started to smell foul whenever she got a paper cut or anything like that, right?

Author's Note: Alright, so this request has been lying in my inbox for months and I felt really bad about not having completed it, but it still remained in my inbox for a very long time.

I decided enough was enough, and got started on this fic, and ended up finishing a few days later.

I gotta admit, I had no idea what to do with this one, (similar case with the Luka as a weresnake fic), so I went the Spiderman route. A (probably) radioactive ladybug bit our dear Marinette, and now she's got some interesting abilities (I especially struggled trying to think of some).

Because of that, I don't really like the way it turned out, but I still ended up completing the fic. If it's not up to your standard, let me know and I can make another one!

Now the part where Marinette notices the ladybug sitting on her and looking a little different to the ladybugs she's used to seeing has a particular reason for existing. The ladybug that bit Marinette is supposed to be a Harlequin ladybug. They're an invasive species in some parts of the world (including France) and they do in fact bite. Some species of ladybug can't bite, but these can. They can be painful (depends on your pain tolerance), but the bites don't pose a threat unless you're allergic to them.

Native ladybugs are (typically, depending on where you're from) black on the underneath and have black legs, but Harlequin ladybugs are orange on the underneath and have orange legs. The Harlequin ladybug (Harmonia axyridis) actually threatens the population of the European ladybug (Adalia septempunctata) due to many different factors ranging from not leaving enough food for the European ladybugs to straight up having cannibalistic tendencies and eating the eggs and larvae of other ladybugs and insects.

Anywho, putting aside all that, I'd like to let you all know that I am currently experimenting with the formatting of my fics. I've had a distinct pattern or style of format, but after talking to a few friends (special thanks to @reshi-galaxy and @moldy-cheeto), I've decided to make some changes with the formatting. I'd like to add that right now, it's a bit of a experimental phase, and I'm trying to figure out what formatting I like the best, and I hope you all like it too!

[ashortdropandasuddenstop]

Today had been a day already, having to make an impromptu hunt for Hellboar because of the demand had been better any other time if it weren't for the information handlers having informed him of a group wanting him dead, and by the sight through his binoculars, his newest hire had unfortunately been targeted and was being used as bait. He'd imagine if they had tried to jump him, they'd been minced up no trouble, but then again, James was not accustomed to being hunted while hunting game.

They may have set the trap for him, but he saw them prepare it and run into their hiding spots, and the dumbasses had no idea how to look out for each other as no one besides in the spots could see each other. And, after that, it would be only a matter of time to get himself to each hidey-hole and take them out before they could raise the alarm.

Working efficiently, he'd start with the outliers first and work himself inward, knowing the heat and the fur of James that it probably wasn't the best thing to keep them waiting for too long.

The problem was that he enjoyed his newest hire, as someone else besides the imps and hellhounds to talk to, they were different, and it was good enough to chat with on most things and gain new perspectives, so he'd not waste time when he made his final approach, and, walked right up to the poor bound hound.

"Now ah ain't sayin' you can't try to flirt, but ya got a funny way of proposin' fun times… Maybe after the hunt instead?" Striker had no blood on him, but he imagined they could smell either errant drops that had found their way on him, or the bloody knife in its holster, or the perhaps rather casual walk the imp did when to even a blind man this was a trap.

"You okay? Did they hurt you?" He'd look worried for a moment before he'd pull out the knife, and cleaning it off, he'd begin cutting the ropes binding them to the rock.

Norrington's heart skipped a beat as Striker approached, his voice teasing and playful. Flustered by the imp's flirtatious banter, and a faint blush crept onto his furry cheeks. " Sir, please" His tail involuntarily wagged with a mix of embarrassment and delight at the sight of Striker, but he quickly composed himself, not wanting to reveal his vulnerability. He cleared his throat, attempting to maintain his composure even in this perilous situation.

"I...I appreciate the rescue, Striker," Norrington stammered, his voice tinged with a mix of gratitude and admiration. "But you should be cautious. It was a trap, and I fear you've put yourself in danger by coming for me." He hesitated for a moment, torn between the desire to express his feelings and the fear of overstepping boundaries.

As Striker freed him from the restraints, Norrington took a moment to steady himself. He noticed the traces of imp blood on Striker's clothes and the knife in his holster, and a wave of realization washed over him. "You fought them off... for me," he murmured, his admiration and desire for the imp growing stronger. "Thank you, sir. I don't know how to repay you for this."

Norrington's heart pounded in his chest, and he couldn't help but entertain the thought of kissing Striker in a moment of overwhelming emotions. But propriety held him back, and he settled for a grateful nod instead. His tail wagged again, betraying his excitement, but he quickly reigned in his emotions, focusing for it to cease.

. "Let...let us head back. I owe you a debt I intend to repay.." he said, trying to hide the lingering emotions and yearning that he felt for the imp leader. "..somehow. Regrettably, the ah.. hellboar got away. "

Troublesome Pup

[weakforarwen]

Even though the evil!Gwen storyline was completely pointless, at least she was 100x better at playing the inside villain than Smirkgana and Agravaine. So naturally the writers resolved that storyline just as quickly as they started it. And there is zero focus in the following episodes on Gwen's feelings about being under Morgana's control & all the things she had done for Morgana's cause - it's like that storyline never happened, much like the enchanted bracelet fiasco.

I know, right?! Honestly, the evil Gwen episodes were some of the season's best. With All My Heart might be the best season 5 episode, and while I didn't particularly care for A Lesson in Vengeance, The Hollow Queen was pretty good. Daegal, my poor baby, was amazing, and Colin did an amazing job when he was poisoned and trying to get back to Arthur in time to save him; unlike Agravaine and Morgana, Evil Gwen was an efficient and charismatic villain, and Angel played her really well. Also interesting about that episode was Morgana and Gwen's connection: how she felt and saw what Morgana had been through while imprisoned with Aithusa; she even cried for Morgana. I think the evil Gwen storyline showed Morgana in a more sympathetic light, especially after The Dark Tower which was also a good episode (at least by season 5 standards, though Elyan's death was beyond unnecessary - he was always the first to suffer, like in Lamia or in A Herald of the New Age...).

I disagree that we needed more episodes of evil Gwen though. What the last season had needed was the real Gwen who would take the throne upon Arthur's death; the writers should've shown us Camelot was in good hands - Arthur's Bane wasn't enough. Season 5 was also their first and last chance to show Arthur and Gwen's married life and how they ruled together. We didn't see much of it, and most of it was with evil Gwen, which was truly a slap in the face to us fans. We still saw how Arthur and Gwen were usually like, at least from Arthur's side, but evil Gwen was different from normal Gwen. I doubt Gwen would've let Arthur seduce her while Merlin watched and prepared the bed for them to fuck on. Gwen would've told Arthur to cut it out and be mindful of Merlin, and would've thanked Merlin for his work - not given him orders to prepare a bath for her. But, naturally, Arthur thought nothing of it. Evil Gwen was still treating Merlin better than he did; as long as evil Gwen wasn't too cruel, she could get away with doing what he did every day, which was ignore the fact that Merlin was a human being and not a robot who existed to serve him.

But yes, as is typical of the writers, there was no further talk of what had transpired between evil Gwen and Arthur, and what Gwen had been through in The Dark Tower. Imagine finding out that you had unknowingly slept with another woman? Arthur would've felt violated too - not just Gwen. I know Gwen probably wouldn't have blamed Arthur too much for not noticing she hadn't been herself, but Arthur should've felt bad about it. Neither of them talked about any of it though. We just saw they were okay and Arthur was trying to be extra thoughtful by arranging breakfast in bed and picnics- with Merlin third wheeling and getting more lines that Gwen, of course... It makes me angry to think about it. I despise season 5.

The writers never cared about the trauma they put Gwen through. When Uther nearly killed her twice, in season 1 and in season 3, no one cared to ask how Gwen felt after - especially in Queen of Hearts, a supposedly an Arwen episode. After she was banished, Merlin was probably the only person who asked after Gwen. She went through so much - she was alone and homeless for months, was kidnapped by Helios and nearly became his sex slave, and then was nearly killed by Arthur because Morgana turned her into a deer - but it was all water under the bridge for the writers. Also, she didn't get to grieve Elyan or be angry at Arthur for what he did to her. Ugh. Fuck the writers.

Thanks for the ask!

[professorsnape394]

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Three: Steaming Sessions

A/N: This is the third part to my fanficiton ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list. 

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 1726

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

As much as Severus hated to admit it, even to himself, thoughts of the young witch had persistently threatened to enter his mind the week following their initial meeting. Despite how badly Severus wanted to suppress his primal urges, he could not deny he had noticed her beauty.  An attractive witch of her age was a rarity in his life, and so he allowed himself the simple pleasure of a thought or two regarding the new Professor. That was until he actually got to know her. She had taken it upon herself to interrupt his last few weeks of solitude before his life was disrupted by masses insolent children. The once somewhat pleasant thoughts of the woman had now been replaced by anger and agitation. He had in fact been preoccupied in thoughts of Aria Dumbledore upon her arrival to his office on Tuesday morning. He was enraged at her boldness to contradict him and any thoughts he ever had regarding her attractiveness had for sure been killed during their most recent meeting, or so he told himself.

The following day Miss Dumbledore delivered a list of potions she wished to revisit with Professor Snape in order to give him time to prepare for their next session. The temper she had awoken within him remained, as her comments still lingered in his mind. Never before had he met someone so audacious, and brave he hesitated to add, that they would so cunningly insult him in such an underhanded manner. The rage inside him motivated him to test his apprentice's abilities even further. Inspecting the list in front of him Severus Snape began to devise a plan.

"You should have learned by now, Miss Dumbledore, that I am very much a fan of saving time and working as efficiently as possible." Severus begun, warranting an exasperated eye-roll from his coworker as she thought back to the caterpillar scenario. Clearing his throat and shooting her a threatening look Snape continued his speech. "In order to further prove yourself I have arranged for us to complete several potions from your list simultaneously. "

"You should have learned by now, Miss Dumbledore, that I am very much a fan of saving time and working as efficiently as possible." Severus begun, warranting an exasperated eye-roll from his coworker as she thought back to the caterpillar scenario. Clearing his throat and shooting her a threatening look Snape continued his speech. "In order to further prove yourself I have arranged for us to complete several potions from your list simultaneously. "

"I'm sorry?" Aria asked, not fully comprehending how his set up could possibly help her grasp the correct brewing method for each individual potion, especially since they were ones she had admitted she was not completely familiar with.

"As you proved the other evening you are very capable of brewing a potion on your own, with my help you should have no problem perfecting say four? maybe five?" He shrugged slyly.

"Five!?" Aria gasped. "You do realise Professor Snape that the list of potions I gave you were those I am unfamiliar with. I wish to spend the time going over them with you, so when the time comes I will have no problem helping the students. I fear this method may not be ideal in allowing me to master those fine details."

"Well then, Miss Dumbledore, I fear you do not have what it takes to match the skills I require in an assistant."

"I want to make it clear, Professor Snape, that I am not your assistant. I am to be your apprentice. This means it is your duty to train me as such. I will do as you ask of me, but believe me I will not be pushed around and made a fool of for the whole of this year."

"Then I hope this means we understand each other Miss Dumbledore, for I will also not tolerate the back chat I received the other day when lessons finally commence."

"Then I suppose we both have to respect one another’s wishes." Aria stated finally, circling the desk of cauldrons. Beside each cauldron she found the list of instructions. Taking the time to read each one carefully, realising these potions will take a little longer than she anticipated. "These cannot be completed in a day?" She questioned.

"Clever girl, you noticed." Snape retorted sarcastically. "You see now why I could not dedicate one lesson to each potion. The potions have different brewing times and can all be left to rest over night, this gives you time memorise the instructions between lessons. We will complete them over the next three days, giving us both the weekend free."

Complying to his wishes Aria set about collecting her ingredients and began brewing each potion one after the other. It wasn't long before Aria noticed the Potions Master get comfortable behind his desk, burying his head in another one of his dusty old textbooks, she knew he would not be attempting to assist her any time soon.

The day was long and tedious. Neither Severus nor Aria felt the need to engage in any kind of conversation at the risk pissing the other off. Severus was clearly a lot more used to the silence and spent hours behind his desk reading, occasionally making small notes in the margins of his book. Aria on the other hand felt every slight noise she made was amplified a hundred times over, hesitant to make too much noise at the risk of Snape telling her off.

The room quickly became stuffy and humid from the constant steam emitting from all five cauldrons. The young Professor struggled to work in her tight, un-breathable clothing, she had previously thought was a wise choice for her sessions with Severus. The witch peeled her thick locks of hair from her perspiring face, pulling it up into quick messy bun. Struggling to breath from the fumes, Aria took a short break, sliding off her uncomfortable shoes, hiking her skirt up to her thighs, to air out her legs and unbuttoning her blouse exposing her chest. This did not go unnoticed by the older professor, as he stealthily watched her over the top of his book, absentmindedly turning a page ever second or two. Aria let out a throaty groan, fanning herself down with a nearby notebook.

“Aren’t you hot?.” She panted.

Severus felt his jaw almost drop in awe at the woman's movements as she rose from her chair, reaching up to the sky to stretch out her bones, her skirt shifted further up her thighs as she did so.

"Can't we open the door or something." She gasped the heat getting the better of her. Severus wriggled uncomfortably in his seat, unable to take his eyes off her body. Her eye catching his, Aria awkwardly attempted to cover herself up. Shocked at the Professor's boldness, she began to roll down her skirt covering back up her legs, her chest on the other hand remained bare.

"Professor." She spoke again, trying to catch his attention.

"Umm, very well. If you must." He flustered, clearing his throat, embarrassed he had been staring in the first place, let alone been caught out.

"You don't tend to be around women much, do you Severus?" Aria questioned, seeing no reason either of them should pretend she hadn't just caught him looking.

"Professor Snape." He once again stressed. "And I don't really think that's any of your concern, is it Miss Dumbledore."

"Forgive me. I was just trying to make a little conversation." Aria found herself rolling her eyes at the man once again. "The day has dragged in after all, it might go quicker if we talk?"

"I prefer to work in silence." He retorted, carefully ensuring his eyes did not leave the page of his book.

"I'm just saying." She pushed further, ignoring his statement. "I don't blame you. Being stuck in this school 10 months of the year cannot allow for much of a private life."

"No it does not." Severus agreed, his eyes burning into the page, not seeing a word that was written.

"Still." Aria continued, going back to brewing her potions. "It doesn't mean it's impossible. I'm sure there's plenty of women in Hogsmeade willing to date, bar maidens and what not." She shrugged.

"That may very well be true Miss Dumbledore, but I am not interested."

"Men then." She stated, raising one eyebrow playfully, although she knew very well he did not bat for the other team .

"Don't be absurd." The Professor scoffed.

"What about hobbies." She chose to change the subject, turning up the heat on potion number 3. "What do you do for fun?"

"Read." Snape replied bluntly, motioning to the book in front of him, turning the page though no information entered his brain from the last.

The pair continued to talk for the remainder of the day, although Severus provided nothing but blunt responses to his apprentices enquires, he had to admit, he was not completely opposed to her company. Soon it came time for the potions to be taken off their heat and left to rest for the night. It saddened Aria knowing she had to go back to her quarters, having no one to speak to until it came time for dinner with Hagrid, and though she hated to admit it their conversations on bowtruckles and grindylows had become rather tedious.

Pausing as she reached her exit, Aria turned back to her mentor, who didn't even look up from his desk. "Professor Snape." She spoke to get his attention. "Do you fancy joining us for dinner? Hagrid and I, that is. I usually bring food down from the kitchens, so you don't have to worry about his cooking." She laughed nervously.

"Spending my evening in his cramped hut, being drooled on by that beast of his and discussing the best way to distinguish knarls from hedgehogs? Sounds like the perfect evening." He commented sarcastically. "Goodnight, Miss Dumbledore."

Letting out a short breath Aria Dumbledore flashed one last smile at the Professor before taking her leave. "Goodnight, Professor Snape."

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel

[kamosweasley]

Won’t you pull me through ? (Fred and George Weasley)

Description : Amber meet her friend Emily to take a tea and they talk about the war and the twins. It’s inspired by the song Trouble by Cage The Elephant.

Word count : 2.2K

Warning : angst, mention of death, torture, scars, death and mental illness.

Lyrics from Trouble by Cage The Elephant are in italics.

Tag list : @memekingofwwiii�� 

After knocking at the door, Emily entered with her brighter smile. It's been a while since she's had the opportunity to see her friend, the last few months have been a mess in the wizarding world with the death of Voldemort and the end of the war. She's doing her best but she's still overwhelmed, although the smile of Amber makes it all go away within a second. 

-Hey love. 

-Emily ! It's been a long time since the last time I saw you around ! How are you ?

-Pretty good, things are exhausting lately but we have to deal with it. We're in the middle of reconstruction, it's normal that things are moving fast. 

-This is a good thing, this terrible year is finally behind us. Do you know how well the reconstruction is progressing at Hogwarts? 

-McGonagall supervises, so it's efficient and almost done. She must be a great principal, she is what the students need after the trauma of war.

-I don't even want to imagine the condition that some people must be in, a whole year being tortured by sadistic deatheaters when they were only children …

The two friends sat down at a table to drink the tea Amber had prepared in advance. There is a silence following Amber's sentence, Emily looking at her with a hint of concern. Rare are the people who have not suffered from war and who do not continue to suffer from it today. Some have experienced more painful things than others, such as Amber who was imprisoned and tortured during the war at the Malfoy mansion. It was in the last month before the Battle of Hogwarts, she was able to escape thanks to Dobby, with Luna and Ollivander. Emily hadn't been able to see her before the Battle of Hogwarts a month later, she didn't seem to have experienced all the horrors she told her afterwards. On the battlefield she looked like a warrior determined to win, even at the risk of her life. She was unstoppable, and she survived. They both survived, not everyone was so lucky.

-Now all these assholes are either in jail or dead. My only regret is not being able to get revenge on Bellatrix before Molly killed her. That bitch left awful scars on me, and since they were made with black magic it can't be removed.

-You talk about it like it's nothing, so you feel better ?

-It was hard at first, the first few weeks after the battle I felt like I didn't recognize myself. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a stranger. But it's been getting better for a while, I feel good.

-I’m glad to hear it. You know that everyone is worried about you, you haven't had an easy time of it.

-There are some who have been through worse, I keep breathing and I have resumed a normal life. I think I’m doing well. Doesn't it look like it ? 

-You seem peaceful … After what happened 

-Can we talk about something else ? This war has already hurt us enough, don’t you think so ?

-Obviously.

A little annoyed, Amber finished her cup of tea, her hands slightly shaking. Nothing impressive, but Emily notices it, which awakens the worry inside her. She doesn't know what to do, maybe she should apologize for bringing it up. Obviously the blonde didn't want to talk too long about it. With a fleeting look in her eyes, Amber tucks a strand of her long hair behind her ear. The room suddenly seems to her empty and hostile, she loves Emily but talking about the war remains something that makes her uncomfortable. She much prefers to talk about the future and all the joyful things that await them. This is what helps her get better, telling herself tomorrow will be better and she always has the people she loves with her. She will be able to live that future with them. A smile appears on her face, speaking of joy she immediately thinks of them. Her two rays of sunshine.

-I have received the new catalog from George and Fred's store. Have you seen it ? It's still so colorful, it's good to see all these colors in this sad world. Wait, I'll show it to you, I think I put it over there.

The blonde leaves the table to rummage through the drawers of her dresser as Emily looks at her. We had talked to her about it but she wasn't expecting it, how is it possible ? 

-Oh Amber …

-What ? You already saw it ? You can tell me, I'm just trying to talk about my best friends. Maybe you went to the store not long ago, it's still fantastic isn’t it ? This place exudes a good mood, if I could I would spend all of my days there. 

-Did you go back ?

-Of course ! George and Fred wouldn't talk to me anymore if I wasn't their best customer. I love them so much, I'm glad the war doesn't change them. They are still funny and malicious, they always have been. You know, I think people don't realize how wonderful they are.

-I have never laughed so much as with them, they have always been very funny.

-You see ? That's what I said. I grew up with them, we did so many silly things together but we had so much fun ! 

-I know, you had few problems because of them. They always took you in their pranks, you were driving the professors crazy. They found you calm and studious, they didn't understand why you were doing this. 

-Do you know this song ? It says “trouble on my left, trouble on my right, I’ve been facing trouble almost all my life.” That’s on growing with George and Fred. You learn to like problems and to be clever enough to make it good. 

-I can imagine. Which song is it ?

-Trouble by Cage The Elephant. You should listen to it one day, it’s really great. It reminds me of my friendship with George and Fred. 

-Because they always put you in trouble ?

-Not only that, and to be honest I’ve always loved it. These are the best moments of my life, the three of us always had fun as kids. It's not really the same anymore … 

The silence remains, for a moment you can see a shadow on Amber's face, revealing suffering. The mask falls, she has not moved on as she claims, she is still haunted by what happened. We can not say that she is an exceptional case, it was war, but Amber is a special case. 

-I miss them, they don’t come often but they’re busy with their shop. Business is running for them, they deserve it. They work so hard for their shop.

-Amber, you know very well that their store has not reopened.

-What the hell are you talking about ? Of course it reopened ! I went there, I helped them put everything back in place. 

-It's not possible Amber. The store is still closed, and there is no new catalog.

-But I was there! I know it better than you do, I didn't imagine it ! Were you there to help them with the store ? I don't remember seeing you there, so how can you say it's impossible ? You didn't go back to Diagon Alley ? How can you say the store is closed ? It is not closed !

-Amber …

-IT’S NOT CLOSED ! Damn it, where is this damn catalog !

Now she’s crying, all her body is shaking. Her hands are clenched to the chest of drawers, the white knuckles, she’s so tense. It seems as if the slightest word or gesture could make her explode. Unsure of what to do, Emily gets up and starts walking towards her friend. She wants to comfort her, to tell her that everything will be okay, but that would be lying. It’s been a while now and it's not going to get any better visibly. Yet seeing her like this tears her heart out, she wishes there was something she could do to make her feel better. 

-I’m sorry Amber.

-Don’t … Don’t say this, you have nothing to be sorry about.

-We both know isn’t true.

-Why did you come ? I thought you wanted to talk like in the good old days, not that you wanted to bring up all the pain. The war has taken something from all of us, it's time to stop it and take it back.

-Unfortunately it doesn't work like that, we can't take back what it took from us. The dead cannot be brought back to life.

-No one should have died.

They can only agree on this point, this war should not have taken place and it should not have taken so many lives. Emily is standing in the middle of the room, Amber still in front of the dresser but she is almost shaking. The tears are already drying on her cheeks but she doesn't seem to care, she keeps scratching the inside of her right hand with her index. Worries fill Emily's thoughts, she feels like she's screwed up all over the place. She was hoping that she could make things better, make Amber feel better, but she's not worried that she's robbed her even more.

-Please leave, I need some quiet.

The blonde takes a cassette from one of the drawers of the chest of drawers, with red eyes she inserts it into a cassette player. The music begins as she leaves the room with a heavy heart. How did her friend get there ? After closing the door, Emily lets out a sigh. Things are worse than she expected, Amber is still in denial. The real version of the story is much sadder than Amber's version. She really escaped the Malfoy mansion in April after being tortured, she wasn’t that good but it’s the Battle of Hogwarts who makes her fall. She was on a fine line, fighting for her survival and to save her loved ones. She was fighting against her own sanity during the battle, every second, every move, every thought was a step forward. She was winning, seeing a glimmer of hope when Voldemort died. Her first reaction was to laugh at having a hard time breathing, it was over, they had won, she had won. So she ran through the castle to find her two best friends, she had seen them during the battle but was unable to join them at that time. They were finally going to be reunited, to be again the trio they always have been. No matter what they had gone through, they had survived and they will be able to rebuild themself together. 

Nobody can imagine the pain that hit her when she saw the two dead bodies on the ground. It was like the blast of an explosion, in less than a second her world collapsed. They were all she had, she has been an orphan for years, an only child, Fred and George were all that mattered to her. Thus broke the spirit of the young woman

-She hasn't progressed since May …

-It can take a long time before she may feel ready to accept the truth. She knows it but she needs to do it all again. 

-But how much longer ? She's not going to stay locked up here all her life !

-When she accepts reality and gets over it, she can return to live with her family.

-She has no family left, her parents died years ago and she had no one else. And the twins died too ... I'm afraid she has no family left.

The lyrics of the song can be heard through the door, from what she hears, Emily understands how this music speaks so much to Amber. “My sweet love, won’t you pull me through ? Everywhere I look I catch a glimpse of you.” It must be horrible to lose your two best friends, even more when you think of them as your brothers, your last family. She really lost everything that day, even her sanity.

~~~~

“God don’t let me lose my mind.” She sings with this whole heart, eyes closed and serenity filling the room. She knows the lyrics by heart, it became her favorite song because it reminds her of them. When she opens her eyes she faces the twins, sitting at the table. They exchange a mischievous look before looking at her, it's like when they were young. A blink of an eye and they are three children facing each other, mischievous and innocent. Then teenagers, running through Hogwarts to escape Filch, out of breath but having fun. It's only onto the common room they can relax, out of danger. Fred told Amber that it's her turn to do it, so she takes his wand and puts it on the map. Surrounded by his two best friends, Amber open her eyes and as a tear falls, she whispers :

-Mischief managed.

[aquaticalay]

Centurion .Chapter Two.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Sequel to For Something Greater

Summary: (Y/n) is an active duty Navy SEAL Commander, the first and only woman to ever become a SEAL. After successfully stopping a genocide with the help of the Avengers, she becomes a bridge between the military and the earth's mightiest heroes. But even as her relationship with Bucky grows, she decides not to tell him about the nightmares and trauma that haunt her. Both their secrets begin to unravel when Bucky accidentally stumbles upon a piece of dangerous information about (Y/n) that she doesn't know about herself— something she must never find out about.

Genre: Action, Drama, Romance

Warning/s for the series: cursing, violence, death, eventual smut, PTSD.

Warning/s for the chapter: mentions of anxiety symptoms and death.

Word count: 2.4k

Note: The plot is heavily inspired by the song 'in the dark' by Bring Me The Horizon, and 'Mercy' by Muse. So yeah, go listen to it if you want to :)))  I'll post a new chapter every two days.

THIS IS A SEQUEL TO FOR SOMETHING GREATER,' SO IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THAT, THE LINK TO THE MASTERLIST IS IN MY BIO.

Let me know if you want to be in the taglist!

(Taglist will be reblogged)

TRIGGER WARNING! THIS SERIES REVOLVES AROUND POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER. (Including, but not limited to: anxiety/panic attacks, extreme mood swings , nightmares, intrusive thoughts, insomnia, irritability, hypervigilance, and hyperarousal)

Gif is from 'in the dark' mv by Bring Me The Horizon

You arrived in SEAL team 6 Headquarters in Seattle an hour early. You decided to use your precious time to change into a set of military issued clothes: A green shirt and cargo pants. Very practical.

You entered the briefing room fifteen minutes early. Everyone else was already seated around the mahogany table; Diego Miller, Logan McCoy, Collin Harris, and Nolan Woods. 

They greeted you with a salute, standing up from their seats. You returned the gesture, a habit you've picked up after a million times of doing it. “At ease,” you said assertively, and they sat back down. You heard a clank hit the ground. Suddenly, you tensed. You had to remind yourself it was just Miller's prosthetic leg to calm yourself down. To remind yourself that this room is secure, that there is no threat here.

 You took your usual seat, between Harris and McCoy. 

“How’s Mia?” you ask Harris. 

Mia was his feisty five-year old daughter. When he adopted her, heappointed you her godmother.

Mia was sweet and strong, learning and following her father’s example quickly. She also got quite attached to you fairly fast. The last time you met her was a month ago, right before your peacekeeping mission. You went to their place to give Harris a ride to SEAL team 6 headquarters. Before you knew it, she was running into your arms excitedly, “Auntie (Y/n)!” She exclaimed, scrambling up for you to carry her. “Hello, Mia,” you greeted, pushing her curly black hair to you could see her adorable face clearly. She had a button nose, one of her most striking features. Her skin was dark, the color of a pine cone, and her eyes were almost pitch black. You were sure she will grow up to be a strong and beautiful young woman. “Where’s Uncle Bucky?” She tilted her head.

Mia was infatuated with Bucky. At first, He didn’t know what to make of the child. He didn’t have experience with kids, and he was scared of hurting her. It wasn’t long before he eased into interactions with Mia, letting her stick fridge magnets on his metal arm, spelling out random words on it like 'cake' or 'kandy.'

“She’s asking for you,” Harris answered with a grin, “she misses her Aunt (Y/n) and Uncle Bucky.”

You chuckle at the thought of her looking for you, and Harris making some silly, probably magical, excuse to avoid disappointing her. 

“How’s Barnes? And the rest of the Avengers?”

You shrugged. “Bucky is fine,” you said shortly, “And Sam and Wanda are doing fine, too. Didn’t meet anyone else, though.”

When Harris met you, he was a wide-eyed 17-year old boy aspiring to be the best sailor he can possibly be. He has known you long enough to read emotions through your voice. He could tell you wanted more time to rest, to spend time with the person you love. You needed a break, both mentally and physically. It was so obvious  a blund man could see.

“This mission won’t be long,” he reassured, somewhat trying to comfort you in ways that he can. You nodded, hoping that he is right.

Before you knew it, a Special Operations Command Officer walked in the room to brief you for the mission. You recognize her almost immediately. Her quirky smile was unmistakable.

Naomi Tanaka. She was an old friend who trained alongside you in Navy bootcamp, one of the only people who believed you could become a SEAL. One of the only people who had faith. One of the reasons you took the risk. It paid off, didn't it?

You hadn’t seen her for a long time, since she just finished recovering from her gender reassignment surgery. 

You gave her a knowing nod, a greeting. She acknowledged it with a smile, mouth drawn from ear to ear; it was sincere.

The briefing went well. Tanaka explained the mission pretty clearly. She told you that there was an abandoned Hydra genetics lab in an old Soviett Union military base in Ukraine, and your job was to bring back intel and information, as well as making sure it was really abandoned. 

“Wheels up in an hour,” Tanaka ordered. 

When she dismissed the team, your squadron scrambled out into the locker room to prepare themselves. One hour wasn’t a lot of time, but it has to be enough.

You trailed slower behind to talk to Tanaka. You wanted to exchange a few words with your old friend.

You hugged her enthusiastically. “How are you?” You asked.

She let a joyous smile take over her expression. “Never felt better. It’s good to be back.” Sighing, she squeezed your arm, “We really need to catch up some time.”

You agreed, but right now, you need to prepare for the mission.

-

The flight to Ukraine was smooth. No turbulence, and you arrived in the cover of night. 

You landed in a valley near the Eastern Carpathian mountain range, just a few miles away from the abandoned Hydra base. Though no assault was expected, you asked the team to be alert and to check and recheck their ammunitions for the third time, for good measure.

You ordered Woods to scout ahead, and he tells you through the comms that there is no danger. There is nothing to worry about.

“Are you sure?” You asked, supersoldier-enhanced adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“A hundred percent,” you hear Woods say reassuringly through the earpiece. You had a doubt, but if your years of experience taught you anything, it’s that doubts are the main reason of failure.

You signal the rest of your team into formation, nearing the underground bunker with your weapons alert. You lowered your night vision goggles. Other followed your example, doing the same.

“McCoy, Miller,” you called, “Stand guard outside. Watch out for threats.”

The two of them looked at you like your insane. It was unusual for you to ask two of them to stand guard. It wasn't efficient. It seemed like you were wasting men on generally unimportant jobs. Besides, protocol did suggest not having more people on look out than necessary, and in this case  one was more than enough.

“Only one of us should be on the lookout,” Miller suggested, hoisting his gun up.

“No!” you bark aggressively, catching everyone in your team by surprise, “Two of you out, now!”

For a split second, all activities stop, and everything is silent except for your pounding heartbeat. You try to breathe, but your breath comes out raspy and dangerously fast. 

You were never frivolous. You were always calm and collected, as you were trained to be. But this time, it seemed like you had pulled a pin inside of you that triggered an explosion.

And frankly, having you exclaim something so out of character, so unexpected, was terrifying.

“Commander,” Miller said cautiously, “Are you okay?”

“M’ fine,” you insist, averting your eyes from any staring gaze, “Just be on the lookout, two of you.”

If McCoy and Miller want to question your authority, they decided not to. They complied to your order without question.

You lead Harris and Woods into the bunker. 

The only way inside was by a set of stairs. The walk down was terrifyingly agonizing. The icy footsteps were starting to drive you insane. Thankfully, you don't have to hear more when you got to the bottom.

“Split up,” you say, and this time, no one says anything.

You found yourself moving forward the small bunker, Harris and Woods going their own ways on either side of you. 

Tanaka was right. The place was almost empty except for a few empty tubes on the dusty metal shelves. The stainless steel showed signs of breaking down, you could clearly smell the rust.

The floors were dirty. What used to be white ceramic looks gray now. It was filthy, and you were grateful your uniform provided the coverage from whatever disease might be lingering here.

It was clear that no one has stepped foot in it for at least a decade.

“Find anything?” You ask. 

"No,” Harris reported back. “Me neither,” Woods said.

Nearing the end of the bunker, something finally caught your eye.

It looked icy. You adjusted your night vision.

Squinting and carefully coming closer, you realized that it wasn’t ice. It’s water contained in a long transparent tank.

As you got closer, you heart dropped. The tank was filled with water the shade of translucent milk. 

A female human being was floating inside. Her hazel eyes were wide open but unmoving, her skin was as pearl-white as her platinum blonde hair. A thin cloth covered her otherwise naked body. A silver tube on the bottom of the tank frame traced to a non-functioning life support system. You weren’t sure if she’s dead or alive. She’s neither floating nor rotting, but you can’t imagine her being able to survive with these extreme conditions, especially if the bunker has been abandoned for as long as it seemed to be. 

One other thing that seemed to disturb you is how eerily familiar this condition was. You could imagine vividly what it felt to be her. You shake off the thoughts. You need to focus.

You placed your hand on a corner of the tank and wiped the dust. There were words engraved into the thick glass: PROJECT MERCY #21

“I-��� you start to say, trailing the pad of your fingers on the marble-smooth glass, “I found something. Get this back to base.”

-

The flight back was uncomfortable filled with numbing silence. It went hand-in-hand with a few worried stares they gave you.

They knew something was unspoken; something that caused your outburst. But they didn’t ask. Perhaps they were too afraid to ask.

When you gave the covered tank to the base, you waited patiently in front of forensics.

Usually, you’d wind down in the locker room with your squadron, but today it just didn’t feel like you want to. You were too restless to do so. 

You were starting to think avoidance was your coping mechanism for the guilt you felt after that outburst.

It didn’t take too long for forensic to determine that the woman was dead, but that was pretty much the only information they gave you. Everything else was supposedly confidential.

No, you thought to yourself, you need to know more about project Mercy. You don’t know why, but it was a gut feeling that you had, like an instinct planted in your mind by nature. 

Besides, it was a product of Hydra. You needed to know more.

You took out your phone and called the only person who could possibly have an answer, or at least is willing to help you find answers.

“Bucky?” You said through the line urgently. It must be in the middle of the night in New York. He didn’t sound too tired, though.

“(Y/n),” your name escapes his lips like a sigh, breathing with relief. Little did you know, he hadn’t been able to rest before knowing that you’re okay.

“I- Do you know anything about Project Mercy?” You said quietly, trying to make sure no one could hear this conversation.

You were aware that this was illegal. You weren't exactly allowed to share what you find in your operations to the avengers. At least not until they agree to the council.

“Project what?” Bucky asked, his voice sharp.

“Project Mercy,” you repeated,”It has something to do with Hydra.”

The line went silent for a while. You called out his name worriedly.

“It’s a covert biological engineering project Hydra has in collaboration with the KGB,” He says flatly, “I don’t know much about it. All I know is this that none of the subjects came out successful.”

You cursed under your breath. There must be something more to it than that. "Can you please research old SHIELD records for it? We’ll review it together tomorrow night when I get there.”

You could sense Bucky’s hesitation. “This isn’t allowed, right?” He breathed through the phone, “I read the council files you gave Sam. We’re not supposed to exchange any information until the deal is done, right?”

He was right. The only problem is that you didn’t care. Not right now.

“I know,” you admit with a hint of guilt in your stern voice, “But I need to know. I need this, James. Please.”

Bucky never had the heart to say no to you, even if he wanted to. Certainly, this time is no different

“I’ll do what I can,” he promised. 

That was all you needed to hear.

-

Bucky immediately activated the hologram projector in his room. "Friday, lock the room," he said. He heard a confirmation from the AI, followed by a click.

"Dim the lights," he said.

As the blinding neon calms into a soft hue, he can now see the hologram clearer.

"Show me decrypted Hydra and SHIELD files," he requested the AI.

"The one Agent Romanoff dumped to the internet?" Friday asks, making sure to do all the right things.

"Yes," he confirms.

The blue semi-transparents hologram shows millions of files.

"Search for 'Project Mercy," he says again. The hologram changes, a few files left on the hologram.

"Project Mercy was a Hydra bioengineering project in the 1980s. It's goal is to make a fully functional supersoldier from artificial lab-grown cells. These cells were fertilized and grown in a tube that resembled a womb. After nine months, the subjects are ready to be "born." None of them successfully had supersoldier characteristics, and most of them are dead."

Buciy stopped in his tracks.

"Most of them?" He raised his voice, wondering if he heard Friday correctly.

"According to the data, the first and second subject of Project Mercy are given to Hydra agents to raise and observe. Both subjects are alive as of 2014, living normal lives."

Bucky narrowed his eyes. "Where are they now?" He demanded.

"Their records have been wiped out. All that's stated is that Mercy One is female and Mercy Two is male."

"Is there any way to recover the information?" Bucky asked.

Friday calculated, searching the possibilities, "There might be physical records of Mercy One and Two in old private lab of the Hydra scientist named Michail Petrov."

Suddenly, his eyes widened. He recognizes the name, and it sounded just as bitter as it used to, engraved into his half a century of memory. Bucky's human arm curled into a grudging fist.

Petrov, as he recalled, was once the Winter Soldier's handler.

~

[itsgonnabe-brian-may]

Thank God for New York

// Requested: no

Director!Joe Mazzello x Director!reader

wc: 3k

warnings: none

//

After the whirlwind of awards season, the amount of downtime Joe had significantly increased. He made a youtube channel for christ sake. Sure he still did auditions and table reads at least once a week, but he was itching for more. Being on such a big production as Bohemian Rhapsody with direction problems sparked his interest in directing another film even more. He had told his agent that a few months ago, but nothing really came up. Until now. 

You had been directing a biographical type of film for a couple of months and needed some help. Honestly, you needed a lot of help. It wasn't because you weren't good at your job or lacked the skillset to do it. You were deemed one of the best up and coming directors in the industry. Especially for documentaries. However this film wasn't your original idea, it was a project you picked up because a friend had asked you to take over so that they could deal with personal things. You weren't one to say no, plus you loved a challenge. The only thing was you knew nothing about growing up in New York. You had moved to New York a few years ago in order to pursue filming, and LA wasn't quite your speed. So when there was talk of a native New Yorker wanting to help out you were ecstatic. 

A few days later you connected with Joe's agent asking if he was still interested in directing. It wasn't full creative control but the second pair of eyes and hands would be greatly appreciated.

You chewed on your lip as you waited to hear back from his agent. To your luck, Joe was easy to reach and said yes immediately.  

Your phone rang in the middle of a scene, letting it go to voicemail was customary but you were desperate and picked up anyways. 

Hello? 

Hi, is this Y/N L/N

This is her. Who is this? 

Hi, I'm Joe Mazzello, you and my agent talked on the phone about the assistant director position on your documentary. 

Oh! Hi! I'm so glad you called. The position is yours if you want it, I've gotta say I'm kinda desperate here. You laughed running a hand through your hair. 

Well, I'd love to give you a hand! When do you want me? 

Honestly now, but that probably isn't possible. Why don't we meet tomorrow on location? I'll text you the address and a time? 

Sounds perfect, I'll make sure to bring my directors cap. He teased 

Oh, even better. See you tomorrow!

Yup, Bye. 

Bye. 

One the line went dead you leaned back into your chair with a happy sigh. 

"Alright, Cut!! That's a wrap for today. On location tomorrow at 8:00!" You called and the cast and crew dispersed for the night. 

Picking up your phone again you created a new contact for Joe and opened a new message. 

Hey. Here's the address: Cast and Crew call is at 8 and if you can show up a little earlier that would be perfect. Looking forward to meeting you! - Y/N 

Within a few short minutes, your phone buzzed with a response. 

Sounds good. I'll bring the coffee :) - Joe

You laughed and went to your trailer, getting ready for the next couple of nights to be spent in a hotel.

Joe arrived back at his apartment from an audition with a smile on his face. The same one that was plastered on his face when his agent called telling him that you, Y/N, wanted his help. He had seen your latest movie, on a date actually, and loved it immensely. The girl he was with didn't and it ended a few days later, but the fact that he was getting to work with you made up for his ended relationship. He packed a suitcase, making sure to pack the cheesy baseball cap with the words Director embroidered in white on the front, just to tease you. 

Both of you slept terribly. Anxiety and excitement kept you both tossing and turning. Joe got up earlier than planned but got ready and threw his suitcase in his trunk and set off. Without traffic, the drive was around 2 hours, which wasn't bad at all. He arrived just before 7:30, giving him time to pick up coffee and muffins before meeting you. 

You sat on a park table with a notebook on your lap with all of your notes. The pen in your hand tapping the page gently as you read through today's schedule. 

"Y/N?" Joe asked hesitantly looking around, only seeing you. 

You instantly looked up with a smile. 

"Joe!" you said jumping off the table and walking over to him.

The handshake turned into a hug. You both exchanged the usual "I love your work" before sitting down and talking business.  

The first few scenes Joe just watched and made small notes about your directing style. The more he watched the more he noticed it was a lot like his. You were very hands-on and instructive, but down to earth about it, you rarely yelled, unless something was going terribly wrong.

After you finished shooting the latest scene, you told Joe that its time to put that director's cap on because it was his turn. 

Joe laughed and pulled the cap from his back pocket and donned it with a smirk. You couldn't help but throw your head back with laughter. As Joe directed the next scene you noticed the exact same things he did. You came to the conclusion that you were going to work well together. 

And that's exactly what happened over the next couple of weeks. You had become quite close. Spending every spare second together, endless teasing, brainstorming, cracking jokes and just messing around. 

Joe had certainly become quite the prankster on set, becoming close with the leading man. A lot of times they messed with you. Filling your trailer with balloons, switching the nameplates, pulling out your chair from under you, or replacing your black pens with sparkly pink ones. You made sure to write all notes and criticism's for them with the pink pen. 

As the months dragged on, the weather got colder and wetter. Often times it was raining, which was helpful to get consistent scenes, but the looming thunderstorms created a threat that pushed time limits onto your shooting days. Finally, you had finished the scene perfectly. 

"That's a wrap for today!" Joe yelled out in a megaphone he insisted on having even though the cast and crew numbers never exceeded 20 people. 

"Is that really necessary Joe?" You laughed

"Of course it is" Joe proclaimed through the megaphone again, aiming it at your face. 

Your laugh bubbled past your lips as you pushed the megaphone from your face. A mischevious smirk replaced the smile. 

"Can I see that," You innocently asked. 

"Why?" He laughed into the megaphone. 

"Come on Joe," You pleaded. 

"Fine, don't break it," 

"Mhm sure," You laughed pulling it from your co-directors grip. 

As soon as it was in your possession you jumped off your chair and ran out into the street, not stopping because of the pouring rain. 

"Hey!" He called after you, jumping up to follow, but not leaving the comfort of the dry tent. 

"If you want it back you'll have to come and get it," you teased into the megaphone. 

"Nah, you can have it," Joe shrugged nonchalantly. 

"Okay, well I hope you don't mind that I spill your deepest darkest secrets over a megaphone," You teased quirking a brow at him, inviting him to play along. 

"You wouldn't dare," he said matching your facial expression. 

"Whatever you say Mr. I tell girls I'm 6ft when I'm actually 5ft 9" you smirked

"Hey! Stop it!" Joe laughed 

"Should I tell the world that you have Red Sox boxers--" 

"Nooo!" Joe said running out and trying to grab the megaphone from you. 

You laughed swinging the megaphone out of reach. 

"That's not even true!" Joe argued, trying to maintain a serious face, but failing. 

"The world doesn't know it's true," You laughed back. 

"This is no laughing matter, I could be hung for such crimes here," Joe quipped. 

"I guess I'll have to prepare something nice to say at your hanging," you teased back. 

Eventually, you both ended up laughing your asses off in the rain, tossing empty threats back and forth. A loud crack of thunder followed by a flash of lightning shut them both up. Looking up at the sky, the rain pounded on their faces.

"I guess that's our cue to get out of the rain," Y/N laughed. 

"I guess so," Joe laughed as they started walking back to their trailers. 

Their trailers were conveniently next to each other. Yet, they spent most of their time in Joes trailer together. Of course, Y/N always argued that it was because he had the best snacks. Which was definitely true, but not the only reason she hung out in his trailer, or sometimes even fell asleep on the couch. It was almost like a significant others apartment. She had her own cabinet instead of a drawer where she kept a change of clothes, makeup wipes, and a toothbrush. Though, neither of them thought about it like that. They just thought it was efficient and something friends did.

You were dragged out of your thoughts as the megaphone was ripped from your hands and Joe tried to quickly run up the steps inside his trailer. 

"Joe!" You called out after him, barging into his trailer. 

He put the megaphone on the top shelf in the kitchen where he could barely reach and you most certainly couldn't reach without moving a chair to stand on. 

"I guess I'll just take a quick nap," You fake yawned wandering over to his unmade bed, threatening to lay down in your clothes still dripping wet from the rain. 

"Ah, No you won't," Joe said grabbing onto your waist pulling you back and away from his bed. 

Your breath hitched, you hoped Joe didn't notice, but if he did, he didn't say anything. 

He pulled open a drawer and tossed a knit sweater at you and then grabbed the leggings you had left over and threw them at you too. 

"Change, then maybe it can be nap time," He laughed and pulled off his wet long sleeve and put on another sweater. He couldn't help it but his eyes lingered over your shoulders as you faced away pulling on his sweater. The second it was over your head your nose filled with the familiar scent of him. It was oddly comforting. 

After you finished changing out of your wet clothing you decided to put on a movie, one that you both hadn't seen yet and make some dinner before calling it a night. 

"I can't believe we're almost done with filming," You yawned slumping down further into the couch. 

"I know, it's gone by so fast," Joe added looking over at you with a small smile on his face. 

"I'm glad you joined, it's been such a huge help, even if you're annoying sometimes," You teased. 

Joe just laughed and wrapped his arm around your shoulder pulling you close to his chest. 

You inhaled his sent and sighed happily. You both stopped paying attention to the movie, your eyelids falling heavy. 

The next morning you woke up wrapped in his arms. Groaning you shifted slightly so you could look at your watch. It was 7:45. Shooting started at 8 today, meaning it was, unfortunately, time to get up. 

"Joe, come on, wake up. You don't want to be late for the last day of shooting do you?" You said gently trying to wake him. 

He groaned pushing you away slightly. 

"What time is it?" He asked, his voice still heavy with sleep. 

"7:45," you responded pulling yourself off the couch.

You put a pot of coffee on, knowing the smell would wake him up. As the coffee brewed you did your hair, applied a few layers of mascara, ran some neutral lipstick over your lips and pulled on a pair of jeans. Keeping Joes sweater on. 

"Okay, okay. I'm up," Joe groaned sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

"Mhmm, here, now you'll really be up," You hummed handing him a cup of coffee. 

"God you're the best," He praised with a happy smile after taking a sip. 

"I know, now get your ass in some jeans. Filming starts in 10," you laughed taking your own mug of coffee and walking out of his trailer. 

5 minutes later, a much more awake Joe joined you. 

"Nice sweater," he teased as he joined you behind the camera. 

"Agreed," you smiled into the sweater. 

Unfortunately, today there weren't many shenanigans on set. Everyone tried their hardest to get the last few scenes done, with as little retakes as possible. Sure filming was fun and all, but after 3 and a half months of filming, everyone was tired and ready to go home. Even you and Joe. 

Once the final 

"That's a wrap!" 

was called by both you and Joe, the actors got out of makeup, the whole cast made their way down to a bar downtown in celebration. There were drinks, toasts, thanks, and even a cake with the movies name written in sparkly pink frosting. Tipsy Joe found that quite funny. 

You and Joe stayed throughout the entire party, but by the end of it, you were both quite done. 

With a warm embrace, you parted ways for the first time in a while.

However, you both made sure not to lose touch.  Texting almost every day, coffee 'dates' at least once a month, movie marathons in person or over face time, and of course late night phone calls with full updates on each other's lives. You had even begun to meet each other's friends and families. Rumors of a relationship sent both of you into fits of laughter, even though secretly you both wished they were true. You guys were practically a couple, minus the fact that you didn't live together and weren't intimate. Though you were quite touchy when you saw each other.

The next time you saw everyone from the cast and crew all in one place again was at the premiere. Your guys' family and friends were there. Gwil, his fiance, Rami, Lucy, and Ben were there too.  Yet, you and Joe spent most of the evening together. Especially the red carpet. You were wearing a gorgeous light gray lace dress that Joe coordinated his tie to. Joe couldn't keep his hands to himself, or his compliments. The phrase "You look so stunning" slipped through his lips at least 10 times that night. 

Then it came time for the actual screening. You and Joe stood in the front corner holding a microphone after everyone had reached their seats. 

"I'd like to thank everyone for coming, this film has been in the making since July of last year and has taken the combined effort of all of the amazing cast and crew to make it work as well as it did. I'm thankful to have had this opportunity to share this story with the world, so I'm letting you guys see it first, because if it sucks then I don't have to release it. Remember, I know each and every one of you by name so don't go talking shit to the press." You teased in your introduction speech. 

"I'd also like to extend a thank you to the megaphone holder and resident new yorker for being such a wonderful co-director, even if you drove me crazy. Anyways, enjoy!" You proclaimed as the lights dimmed and the introduction music began rolling.

You and Joe found your way to your seats, his hand intertwined with yours. Both of you watched the movie intently as if you had never seen it before, even though you both have seen the full thing at least twice. 

"God, we did so well," Joe murmured into your ear as the last few scenes came on screen. 

"Couldn't have done it without you, Joe, seriously. Thank God for New York," You laughed quietly turning to face him. 

"Amen," He breathed his gaze catching your lips, just before he leaned in and caught your lips with his. 

At first, you were taken aback but after a second you melted into his grip, the end credit music joining in at the perfect time, it was almost as if you were in a movie of your own. 

You pulled away as the crowd went wild, standing up and facing you with their applause. Joe bowed comedically and pointed to you. You took after and copied his bow giggling.

The after party was crazy, there was even more booze, celebrities, and deserts. Most importantly there was a dance floor. And of course, you found Joe and his friendy tipsily busting a move. Usually, you would've been too shy to join, but the champagne and adrenaline pushed you to jump in the group. 

"Y/N!" Joe smiled grabbing your hands and dancing with you for a while. The music shifted from upbeat to chill a few times as the night progressed. Joe and you had stayed for most of it, currently, you were swaying to The Weeknd, Joe's hands on your hips, and yours on his shoulders. 

"Move in with me," Joe stated abruptly. 

"What?" You asked incredulously. 

"I'm serious, move in with me," He said again. 

"We're not even dating Joe," 

"Okay, be my girlfriend, and move in with me," He smiled widely. 

"Seriously Joe?" you asked.  

"Seriously Y/N," 

Instead of responding you leaned in, kissing him gently, smiling against his lips. This time it wasn't in a dark theater, but in public, your family and friends watching, hell probably the whole world too, but you didn't care. All you could think to say was Thank God for New York. 

[scnkei]

Byakuya seems never to care about this day. Renji isn't sure if his captain would be mad if he brought it up or made a fuss. But.. his captain had done his best for Renji on multiple occasions. He wanted to reciprocate. He decided the best gift was simply to do a good job, getting ahead with his work, making sure his captain needn't even ask for things, renji would anticipate and get him his files before he even requested them. He'd make sure his captain wasn't bothered by anyone, too, when working. All in all, a calm, perfect workday.

At the end of it, he asked Byakuya if he had any plans to celebrate. It seems he didn't. That made Renji smile. "Then, would you spend it with me?" Your birthday. You should be around people that love you. At least, that's what Renji thought. "I'll make a spicy dish for dinner." And perhaps he also had a small gift prepared.. Though he felt embarrassed about gifting it. He didn't have as much money as Byakuya, so he couldn't offer him anything luxurious.

He'd done his best, though, to put together a selection of loose-leaf, delectable teas (or so the shopkeep had called them). Along came a scroll, he'd asked izuru to calligraph a poem on it he thought Byakuya might like. He'd spend hours and hours searching his friend's collection to find a suitable one. Not too romantic, but also not void of feeling..

     Byakuya didn’t celebrate his birthday. Not unless it was a ‘ special ‘ number. 100. 200. 250. It was tradition to celebrate specific ages of the Head of the Kuchiki Clan, so Byakuya had no choice but to go along. This year was not a special year, and so he assumed his birthday would just pass. He knew he would receive presents ( that was inevitable ), and he would be polite and graceful in his receiving, but giving him a gift was by no means necessary. He thought it was more something that younger Shinigami enjoyed. If his division members truly wanted to gift him with something he would appreciate, then they would do their work diligently, and raise their level of efficiency.

     Someone who did exactly that, was Renji. He was always a hard worker, but today he definitely presented an extra effort. It made Byakuya think that the other truly knew him better than anyone, and that was a strangely intimate and good feeling. Though his good mood didn’t show, he would consider this a pleasant day. 

      Considering he had been working so hard, Byakuya would hope Renji took the evening to himself to relax. However, his fukutaichou had other plans. He wanted to spend the evening with him. ❝ If you’d like. ❞ Byakuya replied, ignoring the pleased feeling the invitation gave him. Almost as if he had been secretly hoping for it. His servants had prepared an extra fine dinner for him tonight, in honor of his birthday, but yes - he would much rather eat Renji’s food in the other’s company, so he made no mention of that. He simply quietly accepted the offer, and followed Renji to his quarters. 

     He had not been expecting a gift, but Renji had prepared one for him. A collection of high-quality tea, and... A scroll? Byakuya drank tea every day ( green tea ), and having new kinds to try would be a... ‘ nice change ‘? He was a creature of habit and always had the same brand of tea. Perhaps he would find a new favorite. ❝ Thank you, Renji. ❞ He said, accepting the tea. It was a useful gift. The scroll was opened. He assumed it was some sort of birthday-card. He was only half-right. It contained a poem, written in beautiful calligraphy that Byakuya knew was not Renji’s hand writing. Naturally, having been brought up to appreciate such arts, Byakuya found both the writing itself, and the poem to be beautiful. He had already thanked him, and couldn’t say the same words again. Instead he touched him. Fingers gently brushing against his cheek. Precious, Byakuya thought to himself, unable to prevent himself from allowing such an embarrassing thought to show itself. 

[thehomest]

Using Your Pressure Cooker

"Working under tension" is a typical expression quibbled about the business world. The greater part of us have encountered 'working under tension' at some time and however much we dislike it, we find that we typically accomplish considerably more rapidly than if the pressing factor wasn't there. This is essentially what the pressing factor cooker does. It builds the air pressure applied on the food inside and makes it cook more rapidly and to turn out to be more delicate than it regularly would under common cooking techniques. Always choose those pressure cooker which Grandmother Loved it.

The present pressing factor cookers look similar to the early models that were available during the fifties and sixties. The early pressing factor cookers had shaking pressure checks on top that made a serious racket when the pressing factor got rolling and exploded if the pressing factor turned out to be excessively solid, making the substance of the pot hit the roof! The new type of pressing factor cooker has a quiet pressing factor check which is incorporated into the top and is beyond difficult to explode.

I avoided utilizing pressure cookers until I was given one of the more present day ones to test. The present pressing factor cooker is not difficult to utilize and works really hard of preparing the food. It is an efficient device for working families that don't have hours to slow cook food varieties that need wet warmth. There are many brands of pressing factor cookers available today. They all have essentially similar kind of working elements and are made with an underlying pressing factor measure which resembles a needle formed valve, which ascends when the pressing factor increments. They all contain removable elastic gaskets which serve to make the cover fit snuggly against the highest point of the pot. A couple of the brands are made with 19/10 hardened steel, which is a diamond setters grade of pure and is exceptionally solid and tough just as being appealing and simple to clean. The better brands have copper sandwiched in the middle of 2 layers of the impeccable on the lower part of the pots to guarantee great warmth conductivity. Most great pressing factor cookers will accompany some sort of guarantee yet it is a smart thought to check before you purchase to perceive what the real guarantee will be. In case it is a restricted guarantee you will need to know what the conditions are prior to buying.

A decent pressing factor cooker will come furnished with a liner container and a trivet. The liner bushel is for steaming food varieties, for example, vegetables and it makes it simple to eliminate the food from the cooking fluid just by lifting up the crate. Trivets are utilized for cooking such food sources as pot meal or chicken; their motivation is to keep the food varieties over the cooking fluid. Pressing factor cooking gives a quick, simple and sound technique for cooking which requires some investment and energy than regular strategies. Pressing factor cooking keeps flavor and supplements in and the outcome in case headings are followed, is acceptable tasting food that is beneficial for you. One more benefit of pressing factor cooking is that more affordable cuts of meat which are truly better a result of their lower fat substance, can be utilized on the grounds that compel cooking assists with softening them. Also, your number one plans can be adjusted to use in the pressing factor cooker.

The accompanying rules are useful when utilizing a Pressure Cooker:

Change the measure of fluid you are utilizing so that there is sufficient fluid to create steam; don't begin with substantially more fluid than you need to end with in light of the fact that little fluid is lost in pressure cookery. A decent guideline to follow is to permit around 1 cups (360 ml) for the main half hour of cooking time and about cup (120ml) for every half hour that follows.

While adjusting regular plans to the pressing factor cooker a decent standard to follow is to lessen cooking time to about of the typical cooking time frame, albeit slight changes might be essential for various plans to get the best outcomes.

To bring the pressing factor up to the right setting place the filled and shut pressing factor cooker over high warmth until the pressing factor valve ascends to the legitimate setting, then, at that point bring down the warmth to keep the valve at the ideal level; change the warmth as important to keep the valve at the appropriate level.

The cover gasket ought to be taken out and washed and dried after each utilization, but the gasket is typically extremely easy to eliminate and supplant.

Keep the pressing factor valve clean: follow producer's bearings for cleaning.

There are two strategies for delivering the pressing factor:

a. Spot the pressing factor cooker in the sink under running virus water; when the valve goes totally down, open and eliminate the cover promptly; in the event that you hold on to deliver it the pressing factor will raise back up.

b. To deliver the pressing factor all the more leisurely, basically permit the pot and substance to cool without help from anyone else until the pressing factor check drops as far as possible. On the off chance that you splash the virus water strategy, make certain to open the top quickly or the pressing factor will ascend back up once more. Never attempt to open the cover of a pressing factor cooker when the pressing factor pointer demonstrates any measure of pressing factor in the pot - this would give tragic outcomes with the chance of body consumes and wrecks of food all around your kitchen.