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#baby brother i promise i will finish ur fic I PROMISE
umanta · 4 months
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last line meme
tagged by @sciencemyfiction -- tyyyy! this is great timing bc I was literally up till 3 last night writing :D
rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like)
They pass the fallen corpses of mage and templar and civilian alike, and Carver does his best not to look too closely at the faces. He's been in battles before, but this? This isn't even a war. It's a massacre, just like Ostagar was, all those years ago.
no run-on sentences, for once! Tagging @merlinknowsnothing @heartharrington @jessie-bullet @the-ocean-is-trans @luxflora @the-queen-of-today and anyone else who wants to share!
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teyums · 2 years
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Hiya! Could u please write a fic for aonung about how he would react to oblivious female reader being too close to a guy? She probably wouldn't have noticed it because she's showing him how to weave baskets or something and aonung is just standing from afar like 😡. Can u end it with some fluff and the rest is upto u. Love ur writing btw have a good day/night
“I’m coming with you.” - Ao’nung x fem metkayina reader
a/n: Of course I can! Your wish is my command, anon. 🤭 thank you for your kind words, I hope this meets your expectations! 🤍
contains: fluff, slightly spicy towards the end, aged up ao’nung x reader
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“Ao’nung, I have to go!” This man was impossible, every time you pulled his hands away they reattached right back to your waist like putty. “I’m serious! I cannot be late for their first day.” You said, finally tearing away from his grasp.
“Oh come on, you don’t have to.” He sighed, crossing his arms in annoyance. “I’m sure they can teach themselves just fine, what do they need my girlfriend for?”
“Yes, I do.” You stood on your toes to quickly peck his cheek, gathering your materials as he watched you with an unsatisfied look on his face. “I promised your mother I would help teach the newcomers how to weave their hammocks, I won’t be long.” You loved helping people learn and your goal for the future was to be a teacher to the children of the clan- so you immediately agreed when your Tsahik asked you to take on the responsibility of helping the Sully kids learn some basic skills.
The three oldest sully siblings were hilarious and honestly a breath of fresh air to be around. You knew everyone in your clan very well, so finally getting to see some new faces was more than exciting.
You sat around in a circle, thoroughly explaining the basics of weaving and demonstrating in front of them while they eyed your hands closely. Kiri caught on almost instantly, explaining that she had previously watched Neytiri do it so many times that it came back to her rather quickly. The younger boy, however, was the exact opposite.
Lo’ak huffed frustratedly and threw his knotted ball of hemp down onto the sand, successfully catching your attention. The task seemed to prove difficult for him, his elbow resting on his knee and his chin now in the palm of his hand while he sulked. “Why do we need to learn this again?”
You grinned at his childlike display of anger and tried not to laugh, sitting down next to him and picking up his failed attempt. “It is a good skill to have. Don’t you want to be able to do these things on your own one day?”
“Relax, baby bro. Not everyone is going to get it on their first try.” Neteyam chimed in, proudly holding up his hammock that was already a third of the way finished. For his first attempt, it was nearly perfect. You couldn’t believe how easily Neteyam excelled in any task given to him.
You smile grew wider, excitedly clapping your hands together in approval. “Wow, good job! You are a fast learner.” He blushed at your praise and nervously scratched his head, refocusing his attention on his weaving.
It seemed your praise of his older brother only aggravated Lo’ak more. He suddenly rose to his feet and brushed the sand off the back of his legs, preparing to leave. “This is stupid, I’m outta here.” He grumbled.
You tore your attention from the eldest son and looked up, grabbing hold of Lo’ak’s wrist before he could take a step forward. “Lo’ak, be patient. Everyone learns at their own pace. Sit down, I will help you.” You offered, showing him grace as you knew adjusting to their new home was frustrating him more than the actual lesson.
His shoulders relaxed slightly at your touch. He looked back and forth between you and your hand, nodding and sitting back down next to you in the sand after a brief moment of contemplation.
After unraveling the hemp, you placed it in his lap and took his hands into yours. “I’ll show you how to do it, okay? Loosen your hands.” You instructed, waiting until he followed your directions to continue. “So you go over and through, then under-” you started, helping Lo’ak move his hands the correct way and celebrating when he picked up on the rest and began to remember your lesson. “See! You’ve got it.”
The appearance of these unfamiliar looking na’vi were very different. Their skin was much darker than the metkayina people- hence why you did not notice his cheeks starting to blush. “You’re just a good teacher.” He smiled.
Kiri stifled a laugh and shared a look with Neteyam, the both of them knowing that Lo’ak knew what to do all along, he just wanted you to pay more attention to him than the others.
Ao’nung stood smugly outside your shared Mauri, his muscular arms folded over his chest in distaste as he watched the sight in front of him from a distance. He leaned against the hut, his eyes narrowing as your slender hands made their way onto Lo’ak’s. Why the hell were you touching him and why was he enjoying it? He saw the way that boy looked at you, how both of them looked at you. How could you be so oblivious to the fact that they liked you? His lips turned up into a scowl just thinking about it. You were his only and he wanted you all to himself.
~~ later that evening ~~
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? Same time, don’t forget!” You waved goodbye to the three of them, wrapping up your lesson for the day and making your way back to your home. A dim, warm light peeked out through the doorway of your Mauri and you smiled at the thought of Ao’nung waiting up for you. You pushed through the curtains and tilted your head in curiosity when you saw your mate laying flat on his back in your hammock, staring straight up at the ceiling with his hands folded over his stomach.
It was probably nothing, you knew how he would get when he was in his moods sometimes so you brushed it off and made your way over to him. “I’m back, my love,” you leaned forward, expecting a kiss and not the immediate shrug off you received. “Ao’nung? What is wrong?” Your eyebrows furrowed with worry.
“I don’t know. Maybe your new boyfriends will be able to tell you.” He spat, crossing his arms and avoiding your gaze.
He could not be serious right now. The man who was always overly confident and extremely cocky, was seriously jealous?
“You’re being a child.” You sighed and shook your head, you hated when he got like this. How many times did you have to tell him he was the only one who held room in your heart?
He scoffed and sat up as if he couldn’t believe what you were saying. “Me? I’m being a child?” He asked, shaking his head with a laugh of disbelief once he realized you were serious. “Did you not see the way they looked at you?” His voice raised slightly, but you paid it no mind, knowing it wasn’t at you but out of frustration like usual.
You brought your hands up and massaged your temples in attempt to soothe your oncoming headache, placing your hands on his shoulders and looking into his eyes. “No, Ao’nung. I didn’t notice how they looked at me, because I do not care. You know I only want you, you are all I’ve ever wanted. Nobody will change that.” You reassured, the look in his eyes gradually softening.
“You promise?” His voice was quiet when he finally spoke, his hands smoothing up your legs and resting on your waist.
“I swear it.” Your smile grew watching his anger melt away at your words.
“Good.”
You squealed when he yanked you into his lap, giggling and sliding your arms over his shoulders. “You were actually jealous?” You smirked, threading your fingers through his loose hair and looking down at him while he hid his face in your shoulder. He gently pressed his lips against your skin, the pads of his thumbs caressing the dips in your hips as he tried to ignore you. “Ao’nung~” You teased in a sing-song voice.
“Shut up.” He grumbled, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist.
You laughed at his embarrassment, cupping his face with your hands to lift it up so your eyes would meet. His gaze traveled from your blue eyes to your supple lips, licking his own at the mere sight of you. He leaned in and you quickly pulled your head back, using your hands to shove him down onto the hammock that held the two of you. You hovered over him, your voice suddenly serious as he stared at you in shock. “I promise you, if you ever,” you jabbed a finger into his chest as you continued, “dodge one of my kisses like that again, I will dump you faster than I can swim. Eywa as my witness.” You warned, his eyes widening at the threat. After all, you were the best female swimmer of your clan. “And wipe that stupid look off your face.”
“Yes ma’am.” He purred, reaching up to grab you by the back of your neck and pull you down against his chest. He crashed his lips into yours, successfully getting a whimper out of you when he playfully tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth.
He released it, tightly gripping a handful of your hair and making you gasp as he whispered in your ear. “And tomorrow, I’m coming with you.”
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venuscxre · 4 hours
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— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑 ; 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐓
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summary ; the tristan platoon are supposed to be having a sleepover together, and as the prince’s younger sibling, naturally you’re invited to join them. however, lancelot is there too and he makes it his goal to get on your nerves. but, there’s nothing a good cuddle can’t fix!
request ; “ hii!! i love ur account so much<33 could i request a lancelot x reader where reader is meliodas and elizabeth’s child and her, tristan and lancelot have a sleepover and lancelot and reader end up cuddling each other? tysm <3” — anonymous
pairing ; lancelot / fem!reader
wc ; 2.6k
tags ; fluff, mutual pining, a bit of angst if you squint, ooc lancelot (?), reader is tristan’s younger sibling, lance and the reader bicker a lot.
notes ; rewriting my lancelot fics as promised :33
𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠
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it’s a fairly normal day in the kingdom of liones. The streets are bustling with life as the citizens go about their daily affairs, ranging from shopping, managing their stores or lounging around leisurely in town. You, on the other hand, are out and about doing your normal duties which consists of patrolling the streets, picking up and dropping off some weird magical artefacts and herbs for hendrickson, assisting more villagers. by the time you’re finished with all your tasks, it’s already dusk and you’re covered in grime and sweat.
you wave goodbye to the nice family you were helping out before mounting your horse, alexander, to head back to the castle, your pace is much slower than what you usually go by. you want to get home as soon as possible to take a nice long bath and get something to eat, but at the same time, you longed to watch as the sun descended behind the clouds. it’s not everyday you get to do that with how busy you are nowadays.
your mind wanders as you ride, the cool breeze feeling good against your skin. It was especially hot today, and this nice wind serves to wash away the stress of the day. a strong gust of wind does go by, causing you to shiver and prompts you to speed up your pace. if you catch a cold neither your mother nor your older brother would let you hear the end of it. they’d baby you ‘till you’d rather spend an entire day in hendrickson’s lab and listen to him go on a never ending rant about the new herbs and artefacts he’d gotten his hands on.
speaking of your brother, you wonder what he’s up to. ever since he was officially established as a knight of the apocalypse, you’ve barely seen him. he’s either out doing one thing or the other with his platoon or training to get stronger.
truth be told, you miss being able to do runs like these together; the both of you always spend your younger days in the streets of the capital going on little adventures and what not. the memories pull out a melancholic sigh. you can’t help recount the times you guys would prolong your outings to get some snacks or watch the sunset; sometimes you guys would wait ‘till the sky is filled with nothing but the twinkling stars. your father would always give you both an earful but he gave up after a while seeing as it was reoccurring. it became routine. but now, you can barely say good morning to tristan, sometimes you don’t see him for days on end. it’s lonely but you don’t want to express that empty feeling, he’s busy enough as is. you’ll just spend your days playing with the children of the village to pass time, you suppose.
as the castle comes into view, you slow down once more, taking your sweet time before you’ll have to depart from your beloved steed. “welcome back, your highness,” the guards at the castle’s entrance greet as you trot in. you wave to them as you hop off alexander's back, leading him over to the stables where the horse tender takes him off your hands.
you stretch, popping your back and shoulders as you walk down the large halls of the royal castle, heading up to your room to take a quick bath. by the time you’re out and ready to relax, the sun is out of view and the moon has begun to peek out from the horizon. “the days seem to be going faster now,” you mummer, “winter is closely approaching.”
you shut the door to your room behind you as you make your way to the kitchen. your stomach had been growling throughout your bath and the maid helping you had left to prepare something as per your request. as you draw near to the grand kitchen, you hear hushed whispers and little squeals which elicits a raised eyebrow of curiosity.
you peek into the kitchen, and lo and behold, your brother and his platoon are there all dressed in comfortable pyjamas as they gather some snacks. your snacks. you love your brother, you really do, but nobody takes your snacks.
“i’m gonna whoop his—“
“what’re you doing, princess?”
you let out a screech, your soul almost leaving your body. turning back to face the person who’d come up behind you, your eyes lock with lancelot’s ruby ones. he looks down at you, his arms are crossed over his chest, and he has an eyebrow raised in his typical sassy fashion.
“lancelot, you scared me…” you huff out, standing up straight. you awkwardly scratch the back of your head. this is not a good look for you.
“you should’ve heard me coming up behind you. don’t tell me you’ve been getting sloppy with your perceptive skills, your highness,” he leans closer to you, getting far too close for your liking.
“of course not! i was just… preoccupied,” you lie through the skin of your teeth, turning your head away to stare into the dimly lit hallway. lancelot says nothing in response, but gives you a teasing smile in return.
“sure, princess. sure.” he obviously doesn’t believe you. he pats your shoulder and walks into the kitchen, his hands in his pockets and back hunched in terrible posture just like his dad. god those two are so alike.
“princess y/n!” isolde squeals in delight, engulfing you in a warm hug the minute you step into the kitchen. you can’t help but grin when she scoops you into her arms, holding you off the floor to nuzzle her cheeks against yours. isolde gives the best hugs, hands down.
“hey, isolde. long time no see, eh?”
from the corner of your eye, you see jade waving to you and next to him is chion who just gives you a stare before turning his attention back to your older brother. typical.
“y/n! when did you get back?” tristan is quick to give you his own hug when isolde sets you back onto your feet. you wrap your arms around him and take a moment to relish in his warmth before answering his question.
“about an hour ago. i was in the bath.”
your brother hums in response, giving you a squeeze before he pulls away. “we were about to have a sleepover, would you like to join us?”
a sleepover, huh? that explains the pj’s and the snack theft. but, it sounds like a nice way to unwind. why not? it wouldn’t hurt, right? you follow after the tristan platoon and lancelot as you all make your way to your brother’s bedroom, the site for the sleepover tonight.
“i’m surprised you stuck around, lance,” you look towards the blonde who scratches his nape, heaving a sigh at the nickname. he doesn’t dislike it, really. he finds the intimacy in nicknames quite comforting, but when you call him that, he gets all nervous and jittery. he hates that feeling, it’s too out of character for him.
“didn’t i tell you not to call me that?”
you let out a huff at his comment. he should know by now that you’ll use every opportunity you have to annoy him. “aw but, lance,” you make sure to stress the name, silently snickering when he side eyes you, his face bearing an exasperated expression. “i’ve been calling you this since we were in diapers! why does it matter now?”
lancelot rolls his eyes at you, your shit eating grin serving to piss him off further. however, he makes no move to speed up his walking pace, it’s not like he’s actually mad at you. a little annoyed, sure, but, you’re the only one in the group he can actually stand so he might as well swallow the teasing. “cram it, princess.”
you let out a fake gasp of offence, dramatically placing your hand onto your chest. “lancelot! how vulgar!” you hear tristan snicker as lancelot lets out a loud groan in response to your antics.
when the lot of you finally reach the prince’s bedchamber, jade is quick to run in and flop onto the big mattress, sighing in content as he practically melts into the cotton. you follow suit and cuddle up to one of the pillows. the familiar smell of lavender immediately engulfs you and fills your senses, bringing back nostalgic memories that run as far back to your toddler days.
you clutch the pillow tight, thanking whatever deity that’s out there for allowing you this chance. they must have taken pity on you when you were reminiscing earlier and granted this opportunity. when the space beside you dips, you look over to see lancelot and notice how he still has his shoes on, not caring if the white bed sheets get soiled because of them.
“how crude of you to get on the bed with shoes on. dirty shoes no less.” lancelot’s left eye twitches at the jab you’d made. you’re seriously making him contemplate not being as nice to you as he normally is. so much for being the most tolerable one of the group.
“i suggest you watch what you say to me, princess,” he folds his arms over his chest, kicking off his shoes nonetheless. you cringe when they hit the wall with a thunk.
“what will you do if i don’t, hm, lance?” you egg him on, shooting him a pointed look. he scoffs at you.
“you really want to find out, princess?”
“alright, you two, no more fighting!” isolde scolds from her place at the foot of the bed, her cheeks puffed out in a pout. tristan nods in agreement.
“isolde’s right, we’re here to have fun and relax. put your bickering aside for tonight, please?”
you and lancelot side eye each other but grumble out your respective affirmations. tristan smiles at your compliance.
“now, let the fun begin!!”
remember when you said that partaking in this sleepover wouldn’t be a bad thing? yeah, you take that back. wanna know why? lancelot made it his mission to annoy you tonight.
you’re playing hide and seek? he’s making sure to scout you out first. you’re playing card games? get ready to lose five times in a row. it’s like he gets off at your misery. maybe you should ask his mom to teach you how to conceal your thoughts because this is just getting ridiculous.
“aaaand, i win, again! you really suck at this, princess,” lancelot gives you a smug smirk and it takes all your self restraint to not jump over the table and start brawling with him, but you’d probably lose at that too, so you just pout in annoyance instead.
“that’s just by luck, don’t get cocky!”
“that’s the fifth time you’ve said that tonight, princess.”
sensing that your patience has thinned considerably, tristan is quick to intervene. you really might start a fight with lancelot and that’s the last thing you all need. your father would definitely give you an earful about how “you need to conduct yourself with decorum,” even though he acts the exact same when ban pisses him off. like father, like daughter.
“how about we head to bed? it’s gotten really late,” the silver-haired prince smiles, already packing away the cards.
“oh come on, what’s one more round? the princess seems to be dying for another rematch.”
lancelot disregards the glare you send his way with a cheeky smirk. your brother sighs. “y/n, do you want to play one more round?”
you see a flicker of pleading pool in his different coloured eyes and shake your head. you’ll get lancelot back at your own time, you guess.
“aw, scared i’ll kick your ass again, your highness?”
“shut the fuck up or i’ll shove those cards up your ass,” you hiss at him.
“oh, yeah? how crude of you to speak in such a vulgar way, princess.”
your eye twitches in response to his teasing and isolde is quick to hold you back from doing something you would most definitely regret when morning comes.
“that’s enough! to bed, both of you!”
you pout when tristan takes on a scolding tone of voice, grumbling about how lancelot started it. the man in question just shrugs. if all he had to do was annoy you to get so many cute reactions from you, he might as well make it into a habit. you already do this with him everyday, surely you can take what you dish out.
finally, you all settle into tristan’s king sized bed, ready to fall asleep, but there’s one tiny problem. it’s pretty cramped with six people on the bed, making everyone really squished in together. lancelot is right behind you, breathing down your neck. when isolde suggested you all cuddle up on tristan’s bed, you didn’t mind being squished together with your childhood friends and your older brother, but having lancelot behind you was not ideal. it’s not like you hate him or anything, really, you don’t. it’s the opposite actually. you like him, that’s the problem, and you fear that he can hear your heart palpitating or he can hear your thoughts spiralling out of control at how close he is. you can feel his warmth bleeding into your skin. he’s so, so warm.
“can you please stop thinking so loud, princess? it’s hard to get some shut eye when all i hear is how warm i am.” your soul almost leaves your body when lancelot whispers into your ear, his breath tickling your sensitive skin. you want to crawl into a hole and die there.
“…sorry.”
lancelot can’t hold back the chuckle that escapes him and wraps an arm around you. he leans in close enough to give you a teasing peck on your neck, fully aware of how sensitive you are. “go to sleep, princess.”
“would you two shut it?” chion grumbles from in front of you and you scowl at him. even though he’s your cousin, you really want to deck him in the face.
“watch it.”
“no, you.”
“chion, y/n, shut the fuck up. i’m trying to sleep,” jade pipes up with an annoyed groan.
“..sorry..”
you do end up falling asleep sometime after that, but you’re pulled out of your peaceful slumber at the hushed whispers around you a few hours later. it’s too early in the morning, what the hell are they yapping about?
“ahh!! they’re so cute!!”
“sh! not so loud! you’ll wake them!”
“shut your traps,” whilst half conscious, lancelot’s voice come out in an annoyed grunt and his arms tighten around you.
your groan, shifting in bed and turning over onto your other side. strong arms proceed to tighten around your midriff which cause your eyes to flutter open. once you’re able to form coherent thoughts, you come to the realization that you’re pressed against lancelot’s chest, giving you a front row seat to the ethereal sight of the sun illuminating his face just right. wow, he really is a fairy. it’s not fair how beautiful he is, especially so early in the morning.
“like what you see, princess?” lancelot opens one eye to peek down at you, not bothering to let you out of his hold. when your eyes meet his ruby ones, you feel as if you’ve died and reached heaven. he grins down at you. you’re too busy admiring him that you can’t even say anything back, huh? cute.
“good morning to you too, i guess.”
you’re snapped out of your daze and push him away, quickly getting up and making up some half assed excuse before running out of the room. isolde chases after you, fully set on teasing you while the others, with the exception of chion who was still salty about what happened before you all went to sleep, try to make sure the both of you don’t wake up the entire palace. lancelot chuckles, the image of your flustered face will forever be in the back of his mind. yeah, he could definitely get used to teasing you like this.
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© 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒𝐂𝐗𝐑𝐄; plagiarism, retranslation or reposts of my work is completely unauthorized.
likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated. <33
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6 notes · View notes
onlyjaeyun · 11 months
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hellow my angel zadie loml ^^
1; plagiarism means copying someones ideas exactly, never once have u done that n all ur ideas r unique so anon in question is schewpid
2; ceo concept is FUN, who gives a fuck if it's been done before??? i can't count how many times i've written brothers best friend fics bc i like the concept?? doesn't make it plagiarism
3; if they had a genuine issue they would have come w evidence, anon is making baseless claims w no backup so obvs they're just saying things for the sake of it atp like bffr
4; anon needs to touch some grass
5; i love u
6; i love ur smau's n like i said i'm going to read poison soon once i'm back home n have time n i'm so excited to read strictly business once it's completed!! i lit rally hardly read smau's anymore but always always i'll make an exception for urs bc i lov ur writing n can't wait to read ur finished fics!
7; pls block future anons like that my love, they're not worth ur time or energy! save ur words for people who deserve it!
8; i love u sm u r the light of my life
9; don't listen to people who make rude comments on ur works, they're only trying to bring u down bc they're upset they r not u, jealousy is a disease
10; lov u endlessly n pls don't let people like that upset u! they're not worth ur time! focus on those who support u n like ur fics, i can promise u that u never have to worry about plagiarism or anything bc ur doing amazing n keep doing what ur doing!!!! u have my full support always ^^
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can we please talk about how cinna is the sweetest souled person to ever exist :( this genuinely made me tear up and actually calmed me down you guys dont understand how much i love and appreciate this woman, i'd literally burn the world for her happiness 🥺💞 thank you so much baby, i love you so so so much and am so grateful to have you, sending you the fattest kiss rn 🥺💞💗🩷💞💗🩷💞🧸
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I just finished yan brother and im dying at imagining precious baby sis getting into the memes again somehow on her cheap ass burner and now she's snapping at big bro calling him "submissive and breedable". Also Bunny was so !?!??! Amazing???? Ngl i dont trust a pretty man AT ALL and i dont trust no smooth mf who gets touchy on the first date like he knows me or sumn. reader needs to watch her back heheh!!! Also him 'guessing' her name jdkskls what the HECK bro, mans is a walking 🚩🚩🚩 (just the way we like em 😳) im trying to decide my fave oc of yours but its tough 😮‍💨. I looooove your writing though! Also pls make sure you take breaks, ur posting soooo much so frequently so pls also make sure ur taking care of urself!!! Happy holidays 💞💞💞 (can i be 🐰 anon pls? I promise it doesnt have to do with Bunny, its just my thing jdskks)
Hi bunny emoji anon i just got around to answering this ask cause i had a stroke of luck where i had some inspiration to work onthe 3rd yan bro installment
I also workineg on the next part of Bunny the pretty boy, just veryz busy these days prepping with uni and all, and rhe fact that not a lot of people seem to be interested in my Bunny fic kinda like made me "eughhhh..." And i go on to greener pastures like Language Barrier
Not saying attention and praise is all im writing for, cause yan brother is extremely popular like hell , i got around 120 asks rn and at least 100 of them are asking me to update yan bro p3 in one form or the other.
I think its cause yan bro was made when i was in a dark place to cope, thats why its extra tasty, Bunny was made when i was relatively okay so its less yummy and less popular with the readers... So Bunny doesn't have that flavourful spice to it, pretty unseasoned and I gotta admit that too, hard to keep going when im not strongly comforted by Leveret
But anyways, pretty sure big bro will thoroughly investigate why you're calling him that, leading him to find your burner phone and leaving you gadgetless. Though, at times he kind of found it endearing ONLY if you're past 18 though. Younger than that? Yeah no, you're grounded and getting lectured
Ah yes Leveret the man who simply refuses to elaborate further after dropping an acid bomb, rabbit man my beloved, i kinda do have like a point in that story where i wanted to go, but its going to take a while before that happens
Damn i am gobbling up ur essay asks they r so good, they ere some lovely motivation generators. I really gotta thank u for reading my crap ❤️💕 i appreciate it <3
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commanderquinn · 1 year
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Good Space Chapter 3: Hey Gringo
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! i dont! keep these posts! updated! like i do! ao3!
that means you're going to find typos and shit (and possibly minor detail changes) that don't match the ao3 version! that's because im not going to bother fixing the tumblr posts until i finish good space as a whole. im only uploading them here as a backup tbh
master list / ao3 chapter link
warnings: ayyy!! none this time!! unless you wanna count Highly Disrespectful Thoughts ❤️ tho!!! the flashbacks are shuri, heads up for anyone who is a big baby (like me) and still crying over WF. also (shocker) bucko angst/panic attacks
song: it KALEO time!! istg there are golden oldies and hippie classics on this intended playlist, we just havent gotten to them yet. this choice is mega self-indulgent on my end ngl, buuuuut thats the whole fic in general lbr (side note: every time i write Angy Ava, i want you to imagine the vocal intensity of jefferson airplane’s lead singer, grace slick)
the timing of this chapter could NOT have been better with the probably-russian hackers knocking out ao3 that long. i mean it dude, im pretty sure the universe had a good chuckle over this one bc i sure as shit had to sit here and go “youre pullin my leg bud”
also now feels like a good time to mention, for absolutely no reason in particular (definitely not bc of Bucky being a Huge Simp this chapter), that i hc bucky as a dom with service top leanings. i just didnt wanna give the impression that reader is dom for this and accidentally get anyones hopes up with no payoff. i try to avoid that as much as i can bc god knows i drop Big Honkers on y’all every damn chapter, id hate for you to get all the way to the end of this and not get your cookie, y’know? (i am, ofc, down to write mega sub bucky for smut-shot requests)
also remember when i mentioned giving ava a HANDFUL of physical details for writing fuel? 🌝 (ur gonna think im funny rlly soon, dw)
anyways if you dont have adhd, good luck and god speed with the idiots thinkin abt each other in this chapter ❤️ im so sorry in advance 🥺😔
Febuary 17th, 2015
"Good morning, Sh—"
"Have you left your worthless husband yet?" Shuri impatiently taps a finger against her elbow, where her arms are crossed over her chest. 
She watches Ava sigh on the other end of the vidcall. The woman looks too tired. She needs rest. Shuri wants to stab Alec all over again. She's going to make a new, self-lacing, possibly electrified dagger just for the occasion. "I know you're just trying to—"
"We can come to get you. I will send T'Challa. You must promise me that you will have him get me something from Washington." Shuri raises a stern finger, pointing it directly at the camera. "Do not let him pick it out himself—"
"Shuri, honey, I love you with all my heart, but please—"
"I want you to pick it. The furniture in your office is ridiculous; I want something like that."
A smile far too small pulls at the corners of Ava's lips. Her smile used to move freely, and it will do so again if Shuri has any say in the matter. Which she does. "Well, thank you, I work very hard to keep it ridiculous. Now—"
"It will make me think of you whenever you are not around to make fun of my brother with me. My mother will get the lawyers you need to start your divorce—"
"I—sweetheart, please, it's been a very long night—"
"It is the afternoon where you are. You have not even had breakfast, have you? Of course not. You are busy doing the work while Alec—"
"Shuri!" Ava puts a hand over her eyes and takes an unsteady breath in. "I'm sorry. This is—it's been a long night. I didn't mean to yell at you—"
"You need to start yelling much more, Ava. Aim it at your worthless husband while you tell him you are leaving," Shuri argues, entirely fed up with how the doctor allows the spineless dickhead to make her miserable. "T'challa will remove him for you while you stay here with us."
Alec—she refuses to call him Ryder; the man does not deserve to have taken the doctor's name—leans into the camera view, his expression bored. Dismissive. Shuri wants to smash his wrinkling, greasy face in with her fist. "While I appreciate the offer, your majesty, my wife and I can handle our private life alone."
Shuri glares back at him, one of her eyebrows hiked as far up as she can comfortably get it. "Do you really think being aware of your presence on this call will deter me from reminding my friend that you are a demon?" She looks pointedly at Ava, who's still covering her eyes. "He is a demon. A pasty, rude demon."
"Alec is going to shut the fuck up now, I promise." The fingers over Ava's eyes pull in until she's pinching the bridge of her nose tightly. She looks as if she's fighting off a migraine. She probably is. And it is Alec's fault. "That way, we can get this over with, and I can finally get some sleep—"
"Which you need and are not getting enough of." The words slip out before Shuri can stop them. 
Ava's shoulders deflate slightly. Her hand drops, and she attempts another smile that doesn't reach her eyes, making Shuri feel a pang of guilt. "No, I'm not. But I will, just as soon as we finish the basic adaptation matrix. I promise."
Ava always encourages her to speak her mind, no matter what. Sometimes it gets her into trouble. She is not looking to berate her favorite Canadian; she loves leaving the vidcomm between their labs on. The open connection is a comforting window into the outside, one that lets Shrui indulge in any question or raving that passes through her mind. 
Alec is a poison in her friend's life, and Shuri will not back down from reminding her of that. But mother and Nakia have sat with her over this, explaining that sometimes, an abused heart will cling to what hurts it. They have to be supportive while Ava works through this. She's getting there. Just not nearly fast enough for Shuri's patience.
Father has been reminding them all that Alec is a risk, given what he knows. Trusting Ava means trusting her for the duration, and they can't go back now. If she says she is handling the issue of separating the man from her work, they have to allow her room to do that. But T'Challa has been ordered to keep close, or at the very least, ready to go.
As much as she despises Alec, Shuri does not wish to see Ava hurt in this. Not any more than necessary. She is also not interested in trying to control her friend the way her mother sometimes tries to control her. It is infuriating. 
So, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, she lets some of the fight leave her. For the sake of Ava, not the pasty demon. "I have the latest build ready for transfer." 
"You're sure you've secured the connection on your end?" Alec has the audacity to question, even outside of the frame. "I'm not interested in spending my week chasing traces of this—"
"Do I look as if I will hesitate to strike you, colonizer?!"
"I'm just saying, Humpty Dumpty."
"Fuck off," Bucky wheezes at the billionaire, compressing the towel he grabbed from his new medkit against his ribs. Why he expected to make it through his first mission back without having to crack it open, he's not entirely sure now that he's sitting in the hindsight. Getting shot today was, if he's honest with himself, entirely predictable. It's his luck, after all. 
"We let you out of the house again for five minutes, and you've already broken yourself." Tony shakes his head as he tsk's, making Bucky roll his eyes lazily. "What's Ryder going to think? If you keep this up, you'll give the woman a complex about draining your mojo."
"She's going to think I throw myself in front of armor-piercing rounds for idiots that don't notice when they're being shot at." The mention of Ava brings the doctor's smiling face to the forefront of his mind. Bucky leans back against the Quinjet's co-pilot seat, letting his eyes fall closed. 
He could take care of this latest injury himself. That's what he usually does. Thanks to the serum, all he has to do is keep the wound clean for a few hours while his body stitches itself back together. Nothing's broken, and he'd be in much more pain if anything were punctured. Hell, he'd probably be dead already. The fix for this is so easy it'll practically handle itself.
"You always get so cranky after you've played the hero." He hears Tony kick his feet up on the Quinjet's main controls. "Take a breather. Maybe a bow or two. Believe it or not, it's possible to accept a compliment now and then."
"Grandstand more often, got it."
Ava's probably going to hear about today's incident now that Bucky thinks about it. If anything, Steve's going to make sure of it. He doubts she'd guilt him for not being comfortable with an optional trip to medical. They've been having more conversations about boundaries and comfort, and she's been unwaveringly supportive of him moving at his own pace. 
"You don't have to grandstand, you gigantic baby," Natasha chides from between the chairs. Her hand smacks against his shoulder, making Bucky grunt softly. "A whole new world is going to open up for you when you relearn to accept praise."
Tony snorts, long and loud. "Has he reached that stage of modern education yet?"
"I reached that stage of education before you were born, Stark." Bucky's not territorial over his reputation anymore; those days are long since passed. The grand majority of his mojo got left in the 40s. He's just tired of Tony's shit. That's all it is.
He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Ava might feel bad that he didn't come to her for something like this. He doesn't... want that. He doesn't want her thinking that he doesn't welcome her help or that he doesn't trust it. He... he does. He doesn't just appreciate having the option; he enjoys it. The new routine is a breeze, and his neck feels better than it ever has. At least that he can remember.
"I'm confused," Tony mumbles around a mouthful of snacks. The man never stops eating. "Are we talking about your no-no years, or did you and Rogers hit up underground bars before Germany?"
"I know all his secrets from the vanilla days; they never went to any of the fun ones," Natasha confirms. It's not like Bucky was going to take the verbal bait anyways. Steve still falls for it regularly. 
"I like how you don't deny having the rest of the answer; I feel like it tells me all I can tolerate about the icicles when it comes to this. That's my favorite part about you, Romanoff. You know when I don't need to know, you know?"
His dumbass friends might as well be background noise with Bucky's mind this firmly in the memory of Ava's office. She's been so good to him, especially over this last week while she pushed through all the red tape for him. He'd been expecting it to take an eternity of hounding Steve all by his lonesome, but she got him back in the field in under two weeks. His best friend had actually been kind of pissy about it behind closed doors. For Bucky, it was like getting sprinkles on top of his cake. 
He's been thinking about getting flowers delivered to her lab for the trouble. It feels like too much whenever his thumb hovers over the confirmation button. He's reached the part of staring at the order details four times.
"I'm pretty sure your country doesn't appreciate it as much as you do. They tend to fight cold wars over it."
"Well, yeah, but our country—you see what I did there? That was a pretty funny communism joke. And it works as a reminder for both of us that you're actually an American citizen these days; isn't that wild? Back to the point here, our country fights wars over stuff we do ourselves all the time, so that doesn't feel like a fair reason to dismiss our friendship."
The doctor's forcing him to expand his music library. Her taste there is as scattered as her taste in movies, but she's got some leading themes he's been able to pin down. The 60s and 70s are huge for her, expectedly, and she's got a lot of nostalgia over the 90s. Paige keeps her versed in all things pop, folk, and country, according to her. 
"If I start referring to the US as my country, you people will expect me to do things like register to vote. Or put up wallpaper."
"I don't think anyone's expecting you to be legally allowed to do that. The voting thing, not the wallpaper. In most states. For multiple reasons. Although, the wallpaper might be a good call."
Ava invited him to their absurdly large archive of playlists during his second session. The ones Paige curates are nothing but insanity. Not one of them makes a lick of sense. Bucky decided that he should have expected that, given her Energizer Bunny reputation. Ava's are less scattered; more organized. Soothing for his mind to digest. He's been using them as workout music ever since. And driving music. And general background noise. 
"I don't think I'd know where to start buying wallpaper. Do you even want me putting that shit on your expensive building?"
"Not really, but the idea of walking in on you rolling paste on the living room walls is worth anything it could take to fix them later."
God, she's funny, too. He could listen to the woman's awful, soul-crushing puns and subsequent cackling for hours. He'll never say that to her face, not for as long as he lives, but they've made him feel lighter every morning that he's gone to let her work him over. He's already stolen two of them to torture Sam with. Another thing he's not going to tell her.
"Maybe I should start smaller. Bruce keeps suggesting a car that has legal registration."
"Heeey, that could work. You'll be signing up for mailing lists and bitching about state tax in no time. You know what?" He hears Tony snap his fingers. "We should get you a houseplant. Work you up to having a fish or something."
Alright. Maybe he'll go to Ava. He doesn't want her to think he's trying to blow off her expertise again. Or that he's avoiding her. He's not; he really does like hanging out in her office. Even if it's technically a medical appointment. He's a lot more eager to visit her than his therapists, that's for sure.
"I am not paying taxes," Natasha scoffs. "If you think I'm tying a legal address to my name, you're out of your fucking mind. Moreso than usual."
"You don't think you'd enjoy having a cave to lurk in?"
"What makes you think I don't have one already?"
"I'm talking about a real house, not a safe house."
This injury isn't related to his cybernetics. It's his ribs, well below any of his implants. He's not entirely out of the loop when it comes to what doctors have to do to get their licenses. She no doubt had to pull a lot of hard hours during her residency. Maybe she doesn't want to patch up the tower's notorious grouch every time he takes a hit. But he doubts she'd ever be impolite enough to refuse him walking in.
"I have my space here: bathroom, laundry room, small kitchen. If I haven't bothered decorating that, what makes you think I'll want to do it for an entire house?"
"Aww, come on. Look at Ryder! She's having all kinds of fun making her place as obnoxious as possible. That could be you after a few online shopping sprees."
Bucky's eyes open slowly, his brows drawing in when the second verbal mention of Ava pulls parts of his attention back to the conversation. 
Fuck, not going to medical still leaves the option of her taking offense. Okay. Alright. So, he'll split the difference and go to emergency intake. He's pretty sure she's listed as his surgical contact in the tower now—he can't stomach looking at his own medical file, not even the written records. Any injury this big will get flagged for trauma support, and she'll be notified. Then it's up to her what she wants to do. That feels like a good compromise.
"She's doing that to reclaim it from Alec; that's different. I don't have the same motivation. For me, it's just going to be extra work.
"Who's Alec?" Bucky asks without thinking. If the universe doesn't hate him today, Natasha's just going to assume he's being his usual kind of paranoid.
"She hasn't mentioned him?" Tony sounds surprised. "Alec's her ex-husband."
Ex-husband? She was married? And she's not anymore, meaning she might be—
He shuts down that train of thought immediately. 
Reclaiming the space of her house implies they lived in it long enough to form some heavy memories. She hasn't mentioned having a kid, and she strikes him as the type to bring up something like that pretty fast. So it was just the two of them, most likely.
"People usually don't like talking about the egocentric sack of shit they used to coexist with," Natasha points out. Of course, she already knows about the doctor's history. It's her.
"Bad divorce?" he prods, trying not to sound overly invested in the answer. These assholes will take it as an invitation.
"Oh, the worst," Tony confirms. "Shithead tried fighting her on it tooth and nail. She had to borrow my legal team just to get the guy to fuck off and leave her alone. He even kept her surname after the divorce; can you believe that?"
An uneasy feeling starts to rise in his gut, making Bucky look over at him. Then up at Natasha. "What kind of won't leave her alone are we talking about?"
"Down, fido, my lawyers took care of it. There's no need to start tailing him. Aside from being a self-absorbed asshole that insists they'll," Tony's voice turns scornful as his fingers form air quotes, "work things out with time, he's toothless." 
"She's got concealed carry permits she earned properly if that makes you feel better," Natasha offers up. The thought does help ease the tension building in him. 
He won't read Ava's file, no matter how bad the buzzing gets. But he might check in with JARVIS about her home security. He's noticed her name on the system logs. She, or at least her house, is linked to SHIELD's network despite her general distrust of the organization. He understands the opposing priorities completely.
He caved and read Wyatt's file two nights ago. The buzzing had been building since Ava mentioned him wanting an autograph, and it finally got to be too much. Nothing's lurking there aside from an impressive list of historians from all the fuck over Georgia and Alabama. The kid's got more family than some towns have population. 
Bucky leans forward with a muted groan to change the autopilot's intended LZ of the Avenger's balcony to the entrance hanger for medical. If he's going to grit his teeth through the antiseptic over a couple small holes, he's damn sure not going to haul his ass through half the tower while his ribs leak. His patience has limits, and that's pretty fucking far over the starting line. 
Tony looks over at him with a deep, suspicious frown. Bucky frowns at him right back with the same level of scrutiny. He can feel Natasha staring a hole into the side of his head, even if he can't catch her in his peripherals. He hates both of them with a passion at the moment. He knows what's about to happen—
"Did you just… prioritize your own health," Tony questions like he's baffled by the very idea. His whole upper body turns in the seat as he looks up at Natasha excitedly. "Oh my god. He's doing it. All by himself." He raises a hand to his chest and looks back at Bucky. "They grow up so fast."
It's good that the autopilot is on. If it weren't, Bucky would be tempted to crash them out of spite, mostly because he's sure he'd survive it. "Very funny."
"All it took was a hippie that gives him candy," Natash adds, her voice dripping with smugness. "Who knew."
"Both of you can fuck off." Bucky doesn't like how close she just got to his primary motivation on the first try. Old habits die hard, et cetera. And he hates that he can't tell if she was trying to guess. If he's lucky, which he isn't, she was just making fun of him.
Natasha knows about his visits to the florist's website; he's fucking convinced of it now. He doesn't know how, and he can't outright call her on it. If he does, he could fuck up and make himself right. There is nothing worse than having the Black Widow as metaphorical family. Not even Steve's hovering.
She and Tony harass him for the remainder of the flight. It's not long, mercifully, and he's starting to regret not grabbing something for the doctor. They were in Montreal, of all places, so it would have been fitting. He figures she'll understand once he shows her his side. The train of thought makes him wonder what part of Canada she's originally from. She hasn't brought it up.
His foot is already bouncing by the time he reaches the elevator. He's still got the surgical towel shoved tightly against his ribs. He hopes she gets there fast if she ends up taking the call. The last thing he wants to do right now is sit around in the burn of antiseptic and bleach while he fights off the urge to bolt. 
This is good, Bucky reminds himself as he takes his first few steps into medical. He's sat through plenty of trips to emergency intake. He can handle walking into his first optional one. It's a non-issue. Completely.
When JARVIS informs him that his file and general vital scan have been submitted for intake, the buzzing gets so intense that he almost leaves. The pace of his sergeant walk, as Sam likes to designate it, slows to a crawl. Then he thinks about a doctor with concealed carry permits. One that lets her house be monitored by a government organization she's actively pushing herself to trust. All in an effort to contribute something good to the world. The buzzing eases, and he picks up his pace, headed for the solo observation room JARVIS listed for him.
There's no moment of standing involuntarily from nerves this time. He doesn't have to force himself to sit back down and wait, even though the room smells wrong. His skin is crawling, and he wants nothing more than to put a throwing knife in his hand like a goddamn security blanket. But he doesn't panic. He doesn't try leaving.
Baby steps.
When the door opens, it's devastating. There's no diminutive hippie with UFO-sized glasses smiling at him on the other side of it. It's a guy in a plain white lab coat without artistic stitching, one that Bucky's never met before in his life. He's already squinting down at a tablet, meaning this will be his doctor for the duration.
This was the worst plan he could have possibly conceived. The universe is humbling him for thinking he could get away with something like this without some kind of suffering. He just wanted to make up for being dismissive of her help initially. Now he gets to sit through this. How fucking grand.
"Barnes?" The doctor that's not Bucky's doctor looks up, his heart rate elevating by a few notches. He's putting in a lot of effort to look confident. It's not exactly working. "I'm Dr. Erickson. I'm guessing you're here for the bullet wounds JARVIS detected?"
"Yup." Bucky's not about to volunteer for small talk at the moment. It's a miracle he hasn't jumped off the biobed yet. "Where's Ryder?"
"Your primary is in a staff meeting at the moment." Erickson puts his tablet down on the supply cabinet's main counter. He's already starting to gather what he needs, leaving Bucky to figure out real quick if he's actually willing to do this. "Don't worry; I'll get you sewn up and on your way in no time."
He doesn't want it getting back to Ava that he bailed the moment she couldn't show up. He doesn't want to leave her with the impression that he's only going to take on medical care if it's her; that's not anywhere near fair. The woman is a brain surgeon, not his private physician. He can grow the fuck up and accept help from people that haven't gone through his gauntlet of verification.
"Great," he pushes out, lifting the side of his undershirt to offer an unobstructed view.
It's not great; it's fucking horrendous. The first touch of the new doctor makes the overly physical memory of the buzzing build so high, he can feel it in his teeth. They're not actually rattling in his jaw the way they did back then, he knows that, but it doesn't matter because his body is screaming at him that it's happening.
The first stitch going through his skin makes him want to put his fingers through the doctor's eye sockets. His mind goes over all the ways he can violently put at least ten feet between them without having to get up. Looking back, it's probably good he didn't reach for the throwing knives. He's not unhinged enough to stab someone unprovoked; he's better than that. But they'd have been distracting to his impulse control, that's for sure.
Dr. Handsy is pulling the first suture in tight when the door to the observation room opens again. Bucky doesn't look up, his eyes locked on a random point on the far wall while he focuses on his breathing. He only looks over when a billowing, maroon pant leg enters his peripheral.
Thanks to a bunch of dead Nazi scientists that used to hide out in the mountains of Russia, Bucky Barnes has a trigger in his brain that is entirely out of his control. One that, when activated by his own interest, lets him process his surroundings in a sliver of the time that it should for a human mind. It is exceptionally helpful in the field. 
Watching Ava Ryder walk in, wearing a suede jumpsuit that mercilessly frames her curves, proves to him that having it in the 30s would have gotten him shot by someone's father. Definitely before he left Brooklyn. Or before he got chased out by several fathers banding together with baseball bats. In the time it takes her hand to come off the door handle and make its way to her hip, his mind goes on one hell of a fucking journey.
He already had more than a vague idea of the shape of her before now; he can't help it. Comes with the territory of doing threat assessment for a living. God knows his eyes have slipped down to her chest on a shameful amount of occasions. Her tits are being held up and pushed together fucking beautifully at the moment. Typically, that would hold all of his attention.
But this is the first unobstructed view of her that he's gotten, thanks to the lab coat being nowhere in sight, and good fucking god. Holy fucking shit. Godfuckingdamn.
She's half turned from him at this angle, so he's only getting a side view. That's more than enough to show off an obscenely rounded ass and the cushy thighs it rests on that are going to haunt his fucking dreams. It's bigger than his hands by a margin that's outright glorious. The mental image of his fingers digging into it, of how it would make her skin dip under the pressure, makes his blood race.
He can't spot the outline of any underwear at first. Then her hand makes contact with the jumpsuit, and his eyes pick up on it. Right there, above the top of her finger, pulled up high over her hipbone. There's a thin band leaving an impression in the fabric. An extraordinarily thin band. There is nothing else in sight.
Pulled between Ava's legs, right at this very moment in time, is a strip of fabric that Bucky's tongue would fit against perfectly. Right under that is a taste he's been catching himself wondering about for two weeks now. One good, long drag of his nose. That's all it would take to push in whatever she's picked out for the day and soak it with that taste. He could get it back out from between her lips with his tongue, pull it to the side with his teeth to give himself room to feast—
Bucky tries to shift his weight as nonchalantly as possible while his brain slows back down. The comeback from tactical analysis is always jarring, with this one being especially so. 
He's the worst kind of bastard. An awful, selfish, perverted sonofabitch. There's not shit he can do to change that. How unfortunate.
"David," Ava greets, the name coming out as tense as the closed smile plastered on her face. "You can put that down."
The other doctor doesn't look up from the work his hands are doing. "That you, Ava? I heard you were—"
"Now."
Bucky's back straightens up as David looks at her nervously, taken aback. Bucky doesn't blame him; he didn't know her voice could get that forceful.
David sort of laughs, which feels like the worst possible choice to Bucky. But, hey, not his call. "What, do you want me to just—"
"I want your hands off my patient right now. I'm not asking." She watches with unwavering intensity as the other doctor lets the needle and thread drop from his hands. She visibly bristles at the patronizing expression on David's face, her head tilting aggressively. Bucky kind of wants to watch her hit him. "I'll be back in less than a minute, sergeant. I need a word outside with Dr. Erikson."
"Take your time," Bucky assures, the tension bleeding out of him already. His ribs are leaking, and there's a piece of doctor floss looped through his skin that he's going to have to cut out of himself tomorrow morning. The immoral evaluation of her outfit that his head threw at him is going to eat him alive. Forever. Especially when he's trying to fall asleep for the foreseeable future. 
All things considered, though, he feels fan-fucking-tastic.
David still looks somewhat shell-shocked, and there's real insult starting to creep into his posture, but the guy doesn't argue. He follows Ava back out of the room, not bothering with a goodbye in Bucky's direction. When the door closes behind them, his super hearing picks up on Ava reaming David about prioritizing patients before ego. She goes into detail about the deep shit he'll be in with her if he keeps ignoring her written orders, long before it ever gets him fired. She tacks on why her anger should scare him a hell of a lot more than the idea of that. Then she instructs him to keep his damn hands off her patients and get back to the intake desk. 
The protective streak makes Bucky's chest feel warm, a half-smile pulling at his lips. She's a handful, alright. One he'd give anything to be brave enough to send flowers to.
Ava is calm, cool, and collected when she leans back in through the doorframe, hanging off it with a soft smile. "Hiya, stranger. I hear you picked a fight in my motherland today."
"I hear it has an arms dealer problem. I wanted to see if I could help." He gestures down at the needle swinging from his ribs without looking at it. "Not all Canadians are as welcoming as you, turns out."
"Eh?" she fires back, hamming up the accent. "Wellll, I'm not about to let a few cranky arms dealers tarnish our reputation. What do you say you push that bandage against your new bragging rights, and we head for my office?"
Licking his bottom lip nervously, he tries to give her a confident smile. "You were busy with something."
"Not too busy for my favorite popsicle." One eyebrow raises sternly. "You are not allowed to tell Steve I'm playing favorites." God, she's cute when she tries to deflect. It's never worked. At least not on him.
"That's—" Shit, where to even find the fucking words for her. "You don't have to do this. Go out of your way like this. I don't mind getting patched up by random medics. Comes with the job."
Her smile turns impish. "That's cool and all, but I mind when people ignore basic ethics just to have a story about stitching up an Avenger. If you need to tell yourself I'm using you as fuel for a workplace pissing contest, go for it. Whatever gets you off that biobed." She leans back, leaving the door open wide behind her. "Come on; I can't stand the way they organize these damn shelves. I wouldn't patch you up in here even if you did pay me. Next time, head for my office first."
Bucky does as she ordered, pushing the surgical towel she packed for him against his side, not minding the sting in the least. He swallows down the point that, by every definition there is, he's not an Avenger. "I'll follow you, doc."
"Alright," Wyatt plops his hands down on the glass of the holo, his expression determined. His tight curls bounce with the motion, making their resident gumdrop look adorable, even through the discomfort. "Let's get to dissectin' this cacophony. All in one go, preferably, so I don't feel like yackin' up my lunch two days runnin'."
Ava's head tilts sympathetically. "Oh, honey, tell me you didn't—"
His hand comes up, with his index finger pointed to the ceiling. "Nope. But I got close a couple'a times thinkin' about this." He mutters several things under his breath about creepy Nazi bastards while he pulls up the raw data from Bucky's implants. "All the more reason to get it the hell over with."
"A whole day of digging through coded war crimes," Hannah deadpans quietly, raising a steaming mug to her lips. "I'm glad we get the fun assignments."
"You'd ditch us if we didn't," Ava jokes. She scrolls through the sergeant's file absentmindedly on her tablet, reviewing the vitals added just a few hours ago. He actually came to medical. For something as minor as a field injury. Of his own volition.
"Mmm. I don't know. It's pretty fun watching a brain move like Jell-O. You might have been able to convince me to stick around just for that."
SHIELD's primary system makes a blaring noise of disagreement as Wyatt loads the main file structure. He frowns, looking over at Ava with concern. "Its askin' for administrative override."
"Heeey, that's that thing Tony says I'm not supposed to abuse. That's probably not a good sign." Ava pushes her glasses further up the bridge of her nose and leans over to get a look at the error. "JAR, I'd like some reassurance we're not about to trigger an ancient LoJack if you wouldn't mind advising here."
"There are safeguards in place for importing code with an unknown source," JARVIS reports in. The warning on the screen is dismissed, presumably by him, and a new window comes up. A log of the programming in Bucky's cybernetics going through digital quarantine loads rapidly, with line after line being highlighted in red and labeled HYDRA Suspected. "I will process them for you. One moment."
"We have to clean the Nazi code before we can beat it to death," Hannah mumbles against the rim of her mug. "I think I kind of like that."
"Please, Hannie, I'm hangin' on by the skin'a my teeth here." Scrubbing his hands over his face, Wyatt groans exhaustedly. He drags them down slowly, giving Hannah a pleading look over the tops of his fingers. "You know I'm always here for supportin' you—"
"I'm aware." The ex-marine's clipped tone makes Ava snort and look back down at her tablet. They both know stopping him now isn't going to cut off the word vomit.
Wyatt's hands thunk back down onto the glass. "I'm so proud'a ya, y'know that—" And there's the thickening of the accent.
"I know."
Ava's eyes skim over the list of everything detected in Bucky's wound, locking on the word leather in particular. Today was her first look at his work gear—she's got a feeling he doesn't call it a uniform—in person. It was hard to keep professional in front of six and a half feet of Hi, how are ya? wrapped up in that much heavy black. The sounds that his vest made when he dropped it on the coffee table— Jesus. He's got to be packing enough in there to arm a small country. 
"All's I'm sayin' is that if I have to hear about murder right now, I might actually upchu—"
"Please don't."
Ava's too scared to ask what's in the sergeant's pants for a multitude of reasons. Professionalism is lower on the list than it probably should be. It's a shame, too. He's downright hilarious when he lets himself talk. There's not a doubt in her mind that he'd come up with something unbearably good—and unwaveringly dry—in response to the loaded question.
"A'right then. We're in agreement. No bad thoughts today. We go in like—like excavators, right? With our helmets and our 'lil pickaxes, and we get what we need so we can—" The way he cuts himself off makes Ava look back up in concern. She finds the most horrified expression on Wyatt's face. "That—ah shit, that didn't come out all that right. That was mean, wannit? Insensitive. I'm not tryin' to belittle what the sergeant's been through."
"You weren't belittling anything," Ava assures, reaching out to rub his arm. "I think he'd be the first one to race you to a fossil joke about this."
"You'll tell 'im I'm takin' this serious, won't ya—"
A small chuckle escapes before she can stop it. "Wyatt, sweetheart, it's not like he heard you—"
"You take your pills today, Combs?" Hannah's calm question makes the gumdrop freeze in place. She blows on her coffee, taking a small sip. "If you say you don't remember, I'm going to—"
Wyatt snaps his fingers, his expression shifting to relief. "I didn't, and I remember why, too." He rolls his chair back with a sudden push, aiming for his desk. He reaches out before the chair finishes the trip to grab his patch-covered messenger bag. "One'a the cats got int'a my coat closet; dumbass got stuck on a shelf for reasons I'm still not real clear on." He pops open his medication bottle, tossing a pill into his mouth with a level of dexterity that makes her jealous. "The hollerin' was s'damn loud, I thought the landlord was gonna come knockin'."
"Which one was it?" Ava asks. "Not the new kitten?"
"No, no—Juno's been'a dream. It was Galileo again. I love that furry little bastard, but sometimes he can drive me nutty ." He pauses to take a swig from another glossy vacation mug. Today's is advertising a campground Ava's never heard of that's the best in the Rockies, according to the swirling font. "I got new pictures of Juno if you want 'em, though."
"Yes, please," Ava confirms happily. Holding the teacup-sized ball of fur made her whole month when he last brought Juno in. Hannah ended up hogging most of the cuddle time, but the sound of little meows filling the day had been enough to make up for it.
Wyatt pulls his phone from his back pocket and brings it around to hook up to the holo. The system dings with the sound of a successful transfer after a moment. He loads a collection of new photos, zeroing in on one of Juno clawing her way up a window curtain—
The power to the lab shuts off with a loud, electric click. Everything plunges into darkness with the privacy setting on the glass walls keeping the sun out. It comes back on before Ava can react, the building's primary system switching to the emergency power grid. She and Wyatt lock eyes in panic.
"Oooh man, boss, did I just—"
"I'm sure you didn't," Ava comforts, trying to push down her own panic. It helps that she's heard Tony rambling about the work he's put into making this place indestructible. "JAR?" 
There's no response from the AI. She trades another nervous glace with Wyatt.
"I know it was probably the Nazi shit, but I'm hoping it was the cats," Hannah says, sounding sincere. "I feel like that'll make a much better story."
"Oh my god, did I break JAR?" Wyatt looks between them frantically. "How often does he back up his servers? Did I kill'a piece'a JAR?!"
"I have not been murdered," the AI confirms after nearly a minute of being gone. "The safeguards reported a false positive regarding the programming of Sergeant Barnes' cybernetics. It has been handled."
Ava gives the hologram wall of code a warry look. "Handled by you?" There's a suspicion building in her gut around his phrasing, one that she's not planning on letting out of her teeth. 
"Mr. Stark has a protocol in place that cuts off my servers in the event of any irregular activity. Given the nature of the programming's origin, the system is designed to er on the side of caution."
"That's a really fancy way of dancing around the point, JAR." She's trying to stay civil about this. It's not an easy venture, and she's pretty sure it's not translating at all. Even she can hear the frustration in her voice. "How about we cut the shit, and you tell me what the false positive was."
"There are automated routines running for Sergeant Barnes' implants. They are not harmful; I've taken the liberty of checking them personally now that they've been cleared through quarantine. I am creating a stable update to forward to—"
"How long have they not been harmful, JARVIS?"
Hannah sits up from her relaxed position at the avoidance of their favorite nickname for the AI. Wyatt's brows pull in nervously, his eyes never leaving Ava. They both know exactly what she's digging at.
There's a long hesitation from JARVIS. Short by normal social standards but an eternity for a sentience with quantum processors. "There is not currently a risk posed within the Sergeant's—"
Ava's out of her chair and halfway to the door before he even finishes the omission. Fueled by some of the most intense rage she's ever felt in her life, she marches out on swift feet. She's going to kill him. She's going to string him up—maybe hang him off the side of the tower.
America's fucking Sweetheart, her ass. America's Doomed Liar is a lot more like it.
"Where is he," Ava nearly growls, still stalking down the halls, leaving the medical wing in a hurry. "JARVIS, I know you're still listening; you tell me where that puffed-up, hypocritical—oooh , you tell me where Rogers is right the fuck now. And then you tell me where Stark is—"
"Dr. Ryder, I know you're not inclined to believe this at the moment, but I assure you—"
"You're right; I'm not inclined to do that at all." She takes a deep breath as she passes through the front entrance, slowing herself to a stop. With genuine effort, she pushes down her anger. "I don't want to keep yelling at you. I don't like doing it in the first place. If you don't want to tell me where they are, I'll find them myself."
Ava heads for the elevator to do just that. She's not expecting a response as she pounds the side of her fist against the button for the Datacrux's floor. It's likely to be her best bet to find any of them. There's not a chance in hell that she's letting her team dedicate any more time to this until she gets some fucking explanations.
Halfway along the ride up, the light around the button goes dim. A flash of anger rises in her until she sees the one for the executive level illuminate. 
"Mr. Stark is not currently in the tower, but you will find Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes debriefing in the Situation Room," JARVIS informs her over the elevator's intercom, making the SHEILD agents around her pretend not to look over. She's tempted to ask them if it's the outfit.
"Thank you, JAR," she offers as an olive branch. Regardless of what's truly going on here, she doubts the AI is all that comfortable with the subject.
"You're welcome, Ava."
She's only been to this part of the tower once before. Tony dragged her up to the Avenger's balcony for a party after her divorce was first finalized. That's about the extent of her experience with this section. It's not hard to find her way with everything denoted like it is in the rest of the building.
The palm of her hand smacks against the door marked Situation Room, and she shoves it open aggressively. Both super soldiers, the Falcon, Black Widow, and a scattered group of SHIELD agents stare back at her in surprise. It doesn't slow her down any.
Ava points an irate finger at Steve in the uneasy silence of the room. "Unless New York just caught fire, you and I are about to have a very blunt conversation, captain."
"Hiya, doc." Bucky, unsurprisingly, is the only one in the room smiling at her while she glares daggers at Captain America. He's still in his not-uniform. There's still blood on it. The charm he's throwing her way reminds her that they won't want an audience. 
"I'm going to ask the rest of you to leave," she continues, but her eyes stay on the sergeant as her finger lowers. "I don't think you'll want to be here for this, Bucky."
"What makes you think I don't wanna watch you beat up my best friend?" He leans back in his chair, his hands coming up to rest on his stomach as his smile deepens.
"Can I stay?" Sam asks, his voice eager. It's a damn shame this is how she gets to meet him. She doubts the Falcon has any clue about unethical research.
"Come on," Natasha insists with a serene nod in Ava's direction, grabbing Sam's shirt to drag him up from his chair. "You heard her."
"I—hey!" Steve looks so insulted as he watches his friends and various coworkers abandon him with zero hesitation. "You're just gonna—I don't even know what I did!"
"Neither do I, but I am very ready to hear about it," Bucky assures Ava, not an increasingly distressed Steve.
Ava taps her foot impatiently as the room clears out, leaving her alone with the super soldiers. She ignores the nerves radiating off of one of them and focuses on the one that looks delighted. "I'm serious. This is about your case. Specifically, the work HYDRA was trying to finish."
The mirth leaves Bucky almost entirely. His posture doesn't adjust from its reclined position. "Alright. Tell me what's got you livid about it."
"Steve here made me a promise that was broken in my lab a few minutes ago."
Steve's eyebrows pull in with confusion. "Which promise? Wait—a few minutes ago—Is this about that blackout? Ava, catch me up here; what the hell is—"
"You swore to me that the intention of HYDRA—at least where Bucky's case is concerned—was to make an army of super soldiers, nothing more." She's letting him process this one step at a time. It'll make yelling at him for lying a lot easier. That, and she's honestly worried the technophobe doesn't understand the gravity of the situation.
"I—" Steve hesitates, and she watches the switch to tactical assessment come over him. It's startling to see it directed at her from a face that isn't Bucky's. "As far as I know, that was the intention."
"Yeah? You're sure about that? You're sure you're not omitting something pretty fucking important to my job, Steven?"
"JARVIS, what was the blackout?" Bucky questions at half the volume he started at when she first came in.
Ava points at the sergeant insistently. "See? I'm guessing he doesn't even know, but he's sure as hell already on the right track."
"There was an incident regarding the coding found in your implants, Sergeant Barnes. It has been handled. I have prepared an update to their systems whenever you're ready to undergo a transfer."
"As your doctor, I'm ordering it. We can go back to my office after I'm finished ripping your friend a new asshole for lying to my face." Her eyebrows lower at Bucky in indignation. She's doing this for him, but that doesn't mean she's going to let him off the hook if he knew. "We should probably figure out if I need to do the same to you before we get there."
"Hey, hang on now." Steve raises one hand, likely to try to calm her, but changes his mind and puts it back under the table. She's guessing someone's finally clued in the out-of-time man about that practice making women want to throw something. At his head. "We might not always be able to talk about classified information—something you agreed to, I might add—but I've never lied about HYDRA's intent as far as I comprehend it. I've been very careful to hold up that end of our deal."
"Let me tell you how I know, for a fact, that someone involved in this case is doing a piss-poor job of lying to me about it. Since you haven't quite figured out modern tech, I'm going to try to keep it simple." Ava points a far less aggressive, more instructing finger at Bucky's arm. "In order for that hunk of metal to work, it needs to be programmed. The hardware needs software that can tell it how to read brain signals. A few decades ago, some Nazis sat in a room and wrote a bunch of code for that software. That's what was supposed to be in Bucky's implants. That's all that was supposed to be in Bucky's implants."
"Wait—what the hell else is in them?" The flicker of fear that creeps into Bucky's expression breaks her heart. There's not a doubt in her mind that he could sell her on any lie he wants to with his mind set on it. That's the point of infiltrators like him. 
But Ava's willing to bet everything she's got in this world that the fear in him at the moment is genuine. He doesn't know. And it makes her feel awful.
"Given the size of your implants, I'm guessing not much," she tries to reassure. "We can always purge whatever is there later. However, if the code were as simple as 'read this signal, do this thing,' it wouldn't have been flagged as untouchable by Tony's security measures. The ones put in specifically to prevent JARVIS from being corrupted." She crosses her arms over her chest in exasperation, her eyes moving to one of the small security cameras on the ceiling. "Would you like to explain to the captain what kind of code it would take to accomplish that, JARVIS?"
There's another human-length moment of hesitation from the AI in response. "It would take adapting code."
"The part he's holding back—definitely because he's under orders not to break SHIELD protocol—is that something has to be driving the adaptation. There is such a thing as self-adapting code; that would absolutely explain it. If we weren't talking about something made in the 40s when HYDRA needed entire warehouses just to house a few terabytes of data." She glances over at Bucky. "While I'm sure the agents you scare the piss out of would disagree, your head isn't actually big enough to hold that much."
"You flirtin' with me to stop the panic or to apologize for not being Canadian for a minute?"
Ava blinks in surprise, the slightest hint of heat coming up the sides of her neck. That—she hadn't been—well. Steve's head turns to him, his eyebrows raising in mild shock.
Bucky clears his throat, then tries for a quiet chuckle, his eyes floating between her and the table. "Sorry—it's this damn room. Puts me in sergeant mode, makes me—let's get back to yelling at Steve."
"Thanks, asshole, I appreciate—"
"What makes you think I won't yell at you just because I'm Canadian?" Ava counters, finally recovering. "You trying to stereotype me, Barnes?"
The relief that comes off of Bucky is palpable. "I'd go for the hippie thing first if I was trying to do that."
"Didn't you sleep through the McCarthy era?"
"HYDRA gave me the long and short of it between naps."
Her hand flies up to her face to block a loud snort. Damn him, this is serious. But she's not about to begrudge him the gallows humor. She lowers it again while he smirks at her. "Do you mind? I'm trying to make an angry but valid point here."
"About a bunch of code that my head isn't big enough for," he continues for her dryly, one hand coming off his stomach to gesture up at it.
Ava sighs, the amusement from getting sidetracked by the Brooklyn heartstopper fading fast. "Not big enough by the standards of the 40s. By today's standards?" Her head tilts to the side sadly, readying herself to watch that fear in him get more substantial. "You tell me, Buck. Did the Nazis work in the mindset of single projects, or did they work in the mindset of generations that would lead a global empire?"
The words are the last piece to complete the puzzle in Bucky's mind; Ava can see it happen in his eyes. The expression of horror it yanks out of him will haunt her for the rest of her days. "Zola." 
It's said in a whisper, and Ava's not even sure what the word is. 
It takes Steve longer to reach whatever conclusion Buckys come to, and he looks resistant to the idea at first. "No, that's... no—Buck, you've been to what's left. You know what it took—"
"That's the point she's making, stupid. Look at how small everything's gotten." He stops, and Ava doesn't miss the sight of a hard swallow. "It makes sense. Think about it. It makes sense. They took care of the car until they could find an engine that fit. I was the prototype. Or—was going to be, at least."
The comparison—the one he's using on himself—is revolting. Accurate, but astoundingly revolting. She pushes past it, leaning down to tap a condescending nail on the table. "Hi, there. Still here. Still looking for some answers. What the hell is Zola?"
With Steve watching him like a hawk, Bucky breathes a long, tired sigh. "Not what. Who." 
"I can fill her in," Steve offers to him quickly. "You don't have to do this."
"Oh, I'm not doing shit. She's going to do it all." Bucky locks eyes with Ava, his expression passive. Having the Winter Soldier himself that focused in on her makes her breath catch involuntarily. "How's your Russian, doc?"
"I don't speak a word of it. Do I need to for this?"
"No, I'm sure you've got plenty of ways to translate anything you feel like reading. You should look up doveryai, no proveryai while you're at it." He leans forward, resting his arms on the table. His eyes never once move away from hers. "JARVIS, transfer a copy of my archive access to Dr. Ryder. Full permissions. And the next time she asks you a hard question, you don't have to bullshit her. Tell her to call me."
April 6th, 2015
"I want you to bring me with you next time."
"No."
"Is that a no because you do not agree or because you are afraid of mother?"
"Both."
Shuri frowns at the security feed, ignoring the quiet laughter she can hear coming from Nakia on the other end. "Coward."
The camera mounted on T'Challa's dashboard shakes as he turns it back to his face, his expression annoyed. "Say that to my—"
"Coward."
T'Challa rolls his eyes and turns the camera back around as Nakia laughs harder. He will be mopey now, for sure. "I am not taking you to stare at a soldier's office with us."
"Why not?"
"To start with, I refuse to be trapped in a car with you for that amount of time."
"You should be so lucky! Now, what is the real reason."
"What part of royal family do you not—"
"You get to go to these things."
"And when you leave your lab long enough to learn to use the spears of your foremothers, that privilege can extend to you."
"Okoye is always ready to teach you, Shuri," Nakia offers up diplomatically. 
"I do not need a spear to sit in a car annoying my brother," Shuri argues. They always do this to her. She is tired of it.
"You do not need to sit in a car annoying your bother at all." The moping has already started. She can hear it in T'Challa's voice.
"Fine. I will go to Ava's house and stay there while—"
"No."
Shuri slams her hands down on her desk, making the various instruments on it rattle precariously. "She is my family, too!"
There's silence on the other end in the wake of her anger. Then the camera turns again, this time by Nakia's hand. She doesn't stop the spin until it's pointed to show her and T'Challa. He does not look as annoyed anymore. He looks guilty.
Nakia gives her a sympathetic smile. "No one is trying to take that from you. We are only trying to keep you safe. We do not know how far Alec is willing to take things."
"And I am not willing to present the man with more temptations of power," T'Challa adds, the guilt on his face shifting to resignation. "It is not simply because I am afraid of our mother. I agree with her. And with our father. Alec Harlow is a man that is losing everything. That is a powerful motivator, Shuri."
"I am not afraid of that spineless demon," Shuri insists angrily. "I could handle him myself, thank you very much."
"Half the school children in Wakanda could," Nakia mocks under her breath.
She gets a stern look from T'Challa before he focuses it on Shuri. "It is not his strength we are concerned with. It is the allies he can call upon at any time. Men with strength and resources that we do not wish to deal with."
Some of the fight leaves her. Not much, but it does ebb. Her brother might be an idiot, but he is right about this. Ava would not be this afraid for no reason. She has been trying to disguise it when Nakia brings her for visits, which is how Shuri knows it is serious.
"I hate that man, brother." The word is far too inadequate. The contempt she holds for the worm who put fear in the heart of her favorite mad scientist feels immeasurable.
"As do I. As do we all." T'Challa smiles at her finally, his face softening. "I promise to bring you to hit him if he is ever arrested. That is when I will deem it safe enough."
"How many times?" she chases after quickly. "Can I bring a weapon?"
"You can bring exactly one weapon. Can you guess what it is?" The smile turns sarcastic as he reaches out and turns the camera back around to face Alec's office window. 
"I do not need a spear to break that man."
"No, you need it so I can stop being lectured by Okoye for enabling your avoidance of tradition."
"That will not help. She wishes for me to sit through her lessons. I would just bring the spear to hit him over the head with."
Nakia laughs, the sound light and soothing. "I am surprised you did not go straight for the idea of skewering him."
Tilting her head down at her desk, Shuri hesitates. She picks up the ridiculous coffee mug Ava got her, spinning it around in her hands with somber movements. 
Ava's last visit had been especially hard to stomach. The woman had looked so... empty as she talked about the start of the divorce. There had been no vengeful joy in her as she told Shuri's father she understood the gravity of the situation. No hard-won victory in her posture. There had only been grief and shame.
Shuri sighs, turning away from the screen to head for her lab's kitchen. She is going to fill the mug with one of the teas that Ava brings her. It will be a nice change from the energy drinks she has been binging. "No. I... I do not wish the man dead. I only wish to see him locked away somewhere he can never smile again."
—author end notes—
there’s one sentence in this chapter that is 14 words long (including contractions) that is the entire foundation of their incoming dom/sub and oh my g o d when i tell you that shit was cathartic to write 😫🤌 some day when this is finished, im gonna write a whole goddamn dissertation on that one sentence and all the narrative shit that tied into it in this fic so help me (YOURE ALLOWED TO GUESS BTW)
anyways, everyone is alive in wakanda bc i said so. and nakia and t’challa are really stupid uber mega important to ava’s backstory
i feel like we’ve all, as a species, Been Through Enough. you can talk my ear off abt anything, but dont talk to me abt the opening of wakanda forever i will Literally Die, i havent cried that hard over the first watch of a movie in so fucking long and i dont think im strong enough for a second. all i ever need for binging is winter soldier and black panther anyhow (FATWS is still growing on me and i only like it so far bc im a sambucky shipper. and a stucky shipper. and a 3 musketeer shipper. and a—i like making buckaroo be in love a lot. lets just. leave it at that). we can stop with the big owies thanks. let me escape to the fictional world where everyone is alive and Nothing Hurts, t h a n k s.
well. okay. some things are gonna hurt in this. probably really super bad too and youre gonna be really really mad at me when it hits. but like. theyre set up for comfort pay off so does it even really count??? i didnt think so, ty for agreeing 😌
ily 💖 tyty for reading 💞 and tyty in advance for yelling at me when i eventually hurt u ❤️🥰 i will understand, its okay, u are entitled to the emotional compensation on that one
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simpforfandoms · 2 years
Note
more Beyoncé and Tim. My two loves 🤭🤭🤭and ur my third if u do it 🫡
I care
I ❤️ Beyoncé
I’ll take any excuse I can get to write while listening to Beyoncé, anyways stream break my soul by Beyoncé. Also, is this classified as a song fic? Inspired by 'I Care' by Beyoncé.
paring: Older!Tim Drake x Fem!Reader
genre: angst with a happy ending
summary: reader cares for her and Tim's relationship, he doesn't, or does he?
word count: 2.1K
warnings: toxic relationship? drunk tim, bad grammer
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This is the fifth time this month that Tim has ruined a date. The first four times were just him forgetting them and not showing up, but this time was much worse. Tim had promised he'd show up to this one. Technically, he did keep his promise. You got all dolled up, Tim got home early from patroling and you both left the house together, so he couldn't bail on you. You had planned to tell him how his missing all your dates affected the relationship and you did tell him.
"-I mean, c'mon how can you not see that we're drifting apart. A relationship is supposed to be 50/50 not-" You noticed that he wasn't even looking at you. He was looking at his phone.
I told you how you hurt me, baby
"Tim! are you even listening?"
He hummed in response, while still focused on texting whoever he was texting.
"What did I just say?" You asked sternly.
He finally looked up, "What? Sorry, I gotta go. Duty calls!" He chuckled and then kissed your cheek. "Bye, love ya, I'll see you at home!" and with that, he turned and left.
"Wait! Tim how will I get home!" You shouted at him, but he had already left the restaurant.
but you don't care
Not only had Tim abandoned you but he left you with no way to get home and no way to pay for the food. So here you were, washing dishes to pay for the meal, that you didn't even get to finish. See how this is way worse than Tim just bailing on you?
"You missed a spot sweet cheeks" A cook tells you.
"Yeah well sorry" You say with an attitude
"Hey don't blame me for your date ditching you"
And with that down came the tears.
"Oh god please don't cry, it's bad for business. Look consider your debt repaid, now leave!" The cook says with a jersey accent.
The cook pushes you out the back door and you slip and fall onto the muddy gravel. Great now it's raining, your brand new dress is ruined, your makeup is running, and your heels are killing your feet. Worst date ever. How the hell are you supposed to get home. You could get a taxi but you have no money and plus half the taxi drivers in Gotham are pervs. You walk around the building to get to the street side.
You notice that there's a fire in the distance and police sirens, that's probably why Tim had to go. Still doesn't make it hurt any less. You walk down the sidewalk till you find a bus bench. That’s when you finally let yourself cry. How could you be so stupid? Of course, something would come up and Tim would have to leave!
now I'm crying and deserted, baby
"Jesus Christ, Y/n, you look like shit!" You hear a familiar voice.
You look up and see red hood, great Tim's brother.
"Tell me about it" You mumble
"Do you need a ride home?" Jason asks
"Why aren't you over there?" You point to the sirens in the distance.
He shrugs, "Gotham's petty villains tend to strike in the shadows when one of the rougues causes a big scene"
You give him a look
"Okay maybe I got into a fight with Batman and he told me to go. Tomato, Tamoto."
You hum in response.
"Let's get you home"
...
As you open the door you're greeted with Tim, watching tv and sipping coffee.
"What took you so long?" He says not even looking up
but you don't care
"Wouldn't you like to know?" You say as you start walking to the bedroom.
He finally turns around and gets a good look at you.
"Jesus Christ, What happened? Wait. Is that Jason's jacket?"
"Is that seriously what you care about right now!" You shouted as you walked into the bedroom locking the door.
"Y/n talk to me," Tim says as he tries to open the door.
He's met with the sound of you turning on the shower.
"Well fuck you too!" He shouts.
ain't nobody tell me this is love
When you finally get out of the shower you hear Tim talking with someone. You quickly throw on some pajamas and walk out of the bedroom. You see time talking to a blonde girl, who looks oddly like Tim's ex.
"Who are you talking to?" You ask as you walk over to Tim.
"Oh! You must be Y/n! I've heard so much about you!" The girl runs over and hugs you.
You end the hug abruptly.
"Sorry I've kinda had a bad day" You utter
"Oh it's fine I totally get it! I'm Stephanie by the way! But you can call me Steph all my friends do!" she holds out her hand
"I'm Y/n" You smile and take her hand.
Tim coughs. You both turn to him.
"As much as this is delightful, I believe Steph was just leaving, weren't you Steph?" Tim gives a look to Steph.
"I guess, oh wait Y/n, do you have Jason's jacket? He asked me to get it for him which was a huge mistake because I'm gonna dye it pink!" She chuckles.
You grab the jacket and give it to her.
"Thanks!" she turns and leaves but not before saying "If Tim is ever mean to you, call me!"
When she shuts the door Tim walks over to you and hugs you.
"I'm sorry you had a bad day"
"Don't worry about it"
when you're immune to all my pain
He pulls away and kisses your forehead, "Well I've had a long day, I'm gonna go take a shower and go to bed." He then walks away.
What a night.
...
"What the actual fuck is wrong with you!!!" Tim screams at you
You two were just at a Wayne gala. Ubenost to you there was a drug lord that the bat family had been trying to catch for months. The plan was that they would each try to get evidence of him talking about his drugs. The person was talking to Tim and you and you noticed he was reaching for his gun holster. So you 'accidentally' spilled your drink on him, causing him to go home.
"I was trying to protect you!" You shout back in between sobs.
"Newsflash y/n, I don't need protecting! You compromised the mission. Now we have to wait another month till we can finish it! God you're so fucking useless"
"I'm sorry, okay! And if I'm so useless then maybe we shouldn't be together!" You manage to say.
"yeah maybe." Tim mumbles and walks away
I need you to tell me this is love
"Hey Steph, I need a place to stay for a while."
...
You start packing your bags. Tim walks out of the bathroom and notices.
"What are you doing?"
"Leaving."
"Why?" He pushes
"There's no point in me being here." You turn to look at him.
He notices your bloodshot eyes and tears stains. His eyes almost show remorse. For a split second, you almost think he's going to fight for you.
"If that's what you think" He says then turns to leave.
"Why don't you ever care?" You say under your breath.
You know he hears you because he flinches but he doesn't respond.
you don't care and that's okay
...
Staying at Stephanie's wasn't ideal but it will do. Plus you already knew her roommate, Cass.
"So get this, the whole time Tim was dating this girl, Ari, he was also dating me! And I didn't find out till after we broke up!" Steph shouts.
Cass shakes her head in disappointment.
"I never pegged Tim as the cheating type." You say
"Ehhhh, he's definitely changed since he's been with you."
Cass nods her head in agreement.
"You think? He acts like a huge dick sometimes. I think he secretly hates me."
"Tim's not good with expressing his emotions, non of his family." Steph shrugs
"I guess, should I call him?" You say grabbing your phone.
Cass slaps your phone out of your hand.
"Absolutely not," Cass says.
"Agreed it's only been 76 hours, 12 minutes, and 34 seconds," Steph says.
"Have you been timing me?" You question.
"It's for a science experiment. I want to see how long it takes Tim to make the first move. It took him 3 months to get back with me."
"Are you saying it's gonna take 3 months for him to make the first move? I'm calling him."
Well I care
"Don't you dare y/n," Cass states
Just as you're about to call Tim, you get a call from him.
"New record!" Steph yells in triumph.
You quickly hush her and answer it.
"Put it on speaker" Cass whispers.
You oblige.
"Heyyyyyy y/n/nnnnnn" He slurs
"Are you drunk?" You quickly question.
"Pffft. Nooooo."
Steph gives you a look.
"Tim, what do you need?"
"You. I mean like because you're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I took that for granted, y'know? I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. All I know is that I want you." Tim says more composed.
"You're drunk." You say again.
Stephanie interrupts, "drunk words are sober thoughts".
"who's there? is it Steph? I bet it's Steph. Steph quit trying to take y/n from me. She's mine. I found her fair and square."
"Shut up Tim. First of all, she's not an object. Second of all, as if I would ever have your sloppy seconds. No offense y/n."
"Non-taken?"
"Y/nnnn." Tim slurs again
Cass can barely hold in her laugh.
"What Tim?"
"I'm coming over," Tim states as a matter of fact.
"No, you're not, I'm coming over."
With that, the line goes dead.
"Great."
"Well, what are doing here? Go get him, tiger!" Steph shouts as she pushes you off the couch.
You let out a groan and leave the apartment.
...
knock
knock
"Tim, you in there?" You shout through the door for the millionth time
I know you don't care too much
You really didn't want to use your key because you felt it was an invasion of privacy, but given the circumstances, you had no other choice.
"I'm coming in!" You shout as you walk into your once shared apartment.
The smell of cheap beer instantly fills your nostrils. You look around and notice all the blinds are closed and barely any light seeps through.
"Tim!" You call
You hear a groan coming from the couch.
"For the last time Dick, I am fine" Tim says as he sits up.
"Wait, y/n!!!!" He gets up and runs over to you.
"Hey" You utter
Tim grabs you to hug. He then pulls back to meet you eye to eye. You get a good look at him. He looks like shit. Eye bags. Five o'clock shadow. Blood-Shot eyes. He grabs your face.
"I can't believe you came back! I'm so sorry. I promise to never miss a date again. I love you so much!" Tim says in between breathes.
"I love you too"
Tim goes in to kiss you but you stop him. He gives you a puppy dog look.
"Tim, you look like shit, smell like shit, and probably feel like shit. Let's get you sober then we can talk." You state.
"So you don't love me anymore?" He looks at you with a heart broken face.
"Fine. One peck,"
His face lights up as he gives you a quick kiss. You then drag him to the bathroom and get him to take a shower. While he's doing that you clean up the apartment. When he's done he lays down in the bed and begs you to cuddle with him. You do.
...
You wake up intertwined in Tim's arm. Instead of leaving to go make breakfast or something, you look at him sleeping. It's probably when he's the most peaceful.
"Are you just gonna continue staring at me or what?" Tim mumbles.
"Ehhh, I think I'm gonna leave and go live with Steph and Cass for eternity," You say back and you get up to leave but Tim pulls you back.
"Y'know everything I said last night I meant," Tim whispers into your ear.
"I don't remember what you said. Please do repeat it," You say with a smile.
"Well if you must know-" kiss "- I said" kiss "that I" kiss "care" he said in between kisses.
"Well, I care too" You whisper.
I still care
...
This is probably bad but idc. I wanted to so badly end this on a bad not but then I was like "I would feel like I need to make a part 2" so then I was like "what if I had the reader end up with Steph?" but then I was like "eh that wasn't the request" so you get this.
115 notes · View notes
sweetsbfreex · 4 years
Text
lethologica
when you can’t think of the word for something...like this fic </3
Summary: Harry’s family navigating his impending fame, and the activity of reader and harry making their first belly cast
Warnings: fluff, slight angst?
Pairing: Husband, Dad!Harry x reader 
“Hey! We’re back!” you yelled out, Harry following closely behind you as he shut the door,  carefully slipping off your sneakers. It was pretty late at least for the two of you now. The sun was away, you and H coming back from your well deserved date night. 
At the familiar sound of the slamming door came the different steps of your kids. Shuffling down the steps from your view you could see the face of your oldest ahead of the covey, bolting towards the two of you. The various sounds of ‘mom’,’mummy’, and ‘dad’ spoken out. 
“You guys took forever” Sydnie; seventeen, was the first to say, exasperated as she latched onto you. But was quickly shuffled away by the twins. “Bloo” the seven year old was born a Penelope, but after watching her favorite show Winx Club when she was three. Demanded she be called after her favorite character Bloom, but couldn’t pronounce the name all the way through. If you had called her by official name she wouldn’t respond, going on about her day as if no one was there. And it had stuck since then, forever the stubborn one only to grow into a sweet, shy little girl.
 And Alec, fraternal twins who had just turned seven.
“Careful babies the baby, remember” Harry lightly reminded. With that reminder he had loosened his secure hold.
“Well sorry” you teased, kissing all their forehead quickly “But we bought you guys some food too” you reported, holding up the labeled bag.
They responded with excited statements, as Sydnie took the bag from your hold, running to the kitchen with her siblings. 
“My hugs!” Harry yelled out, hands cupping his mouth then putting his brawny arms out like a plane awaiting their bodies to clash into his. “ought to take away your allowance for that one” Harry teases, fingers stretching out to tickle anywhere they could. 
As a result he got a lively mix of groans, laughs, and pleas.
“Joking” Harry says abruptly, kissing each of their cheeks before conducting all of you to the kitchen, assisting the twins into their own seatings at the kitchen. The light above all of you illuminating the room.
Embarrassingly enough it had been when you were pulling the plastic containers from the brown bag that you realized you were missing a kid. 
“Where’s your brother?” you asked, opening Bloo’s Spaghetti and spreading it on the white plate.
“Talking to his girlfriend” Sydnie air quoted, rolling her father-like eyes.
“Why do you say it like that?” Harry asked, wonderingly his back turned, reaching for the Placemats, setting them in front of each child. Placing one in front of an empty stool for Chase. 
“Daddy, he’s delusional! I’ve told him a million times. She found out his last name, connected the dots, and now she’s interested. I would know it’s happened to me hundreds of times since middle school” she said indignantly.
Finishing the last plate up, from the side of your eyes you could see and sense his deflation at the statement. Always overthinking about their last names and what it would entail as they grow up with Harry Styles as their father. His top five worry ever since the first time you were pregnant. His breaking point, however, had been when Sydnie came home, furious. From a day from school finding out that some girl in her class had tried getting closer to her with ill intentions. 
He could also sense the worry that washed over you, catching your eye to let you know he was fine. 
“He’s old enough to know better. He’ll be fine Syd,” you let her know, reaching your hand to fix the hoodie that overshadowed her precious face.
“I wasn’t, it sucks and he’s not taking me seriously”
“Cause you’re full of it” shifting your eyes to the doorway, the sixteen-year-old walked in towards you. His arm over your shoulders before placing a kiss to your cheek. Then making his way to his dad, who had pulled him in setting a kiss to his temple. 
“You say that but just you wait!” she walked over to him quickly, flicking his the back of his head, shifting her way over to the fridge before he could retaliate. Pulling out a drink and some cups for everyone else, almost bustling into you, as you made your way to the microwave.
“Don’t wish that on your brother” Harry persisted.
“I’m not, but he better not come crying to me”
"Whatever” he paid her no mind, shifting the conversation to his parents. “How was your date?” he asked, setting himself at the island. 
“‘Was fine we went to the arcade, I beat mum’s butt––”
“He’s lying, I beat him at air hockey”
“Just air hockey mum?” Bloo asked, a slight lisp from her missing front teeth. Her attention strayed away while Sydnie placed her cup in front of her, filling it with juice.
“Sadly” you mimicked a pout, Harry smiling with a smug grin. 
“Then went to dinner. Guess what” he exclaimed, directing his energy towards Alec”
“Mummy looked so pretty tonight, some chum couldn’t stop eyeing her. So I had to give him a knuckle” he told the story, raising his fist and mirthfully brought it to Alec’s stomach. Eliciting giggles from his which bounced off to Bloo. The rest of you with gratified smiles at the meaningful interaction. 
“Why are you such a fibber tonight” you urged Harry, smacking his shoulder. 
“I’m not lying” he said, walking to you till he was hovering over your back, trying to annoy you with his insistent cheek kisses.
“Go away” you whined, faking your displeasure, shrugging your shoulders. The kids could note your slight smile except for him.
“Go away” he mocked.
“We all know you wouldn’t hurt a fly” Chase pointed out correctly. Thanking you as you set his plate of food in front of him. 
Harry stood across the herd,resting back against the quartz countertop, arms crossed. Until you cuddled yourself into his side. His arm reaching down so his thumb could rub against the side of your belly. Your arms encircled around his waist, head on his chest.
“Not true” he replied. 
“It’s okay, it’s why I married you” you sweetly said with a smile adoring your face. He could only look down at you with a close lipped smile reflecting yours, his dimple digging deep. Leaning down to kiss you, filling you up with his love for you. 
Both of you had pulled away abruptly from the range of disgusted protests and a slam of an utensil. All except for sweet, shy Bloo. Who had watched with a smile on her face idolizing the love of her parents, swearing it was like the Disney movies. Like her favorite Princess and the Frog.
“We’re trying to eat!” Chase had said dramatically, pasta in his mouth. Sydnie covers her eyes with both hands, while Alec stuck out his tongue finger to his mouth. 
“None of you would be here, if it wasn’t for this” you emphasized, your finger waving between you and H. 
“No duh, you both won’t stop having children” Sydnie overstated, shuddering stagy. 
It was late now, all of you stayed downstairs, more overdue than intended. The twins went down an hour early before the other two. Chase and Sydnie finished their meals for the night and instead of leaving, stayed up talking to their parents.
In your sleep shorts and a light weight tank top, your hands were in Harry’s who was massaging them softly. 
“Do you wanna talk about it?” you asked feebly, peeking up at the overly focused man. 
“We’ve had this conversation a handful of times, don’t see why we need to have it again” he replied, glancing at you quickly.
“I know, but it might make you feel a little better” you tried again not wanting to push him too far. 
“I–It’s just” he had to stop for a minute, his throat closing up too much to even speak clearly. You propped yourself up against the headboard, your lower back aching a little bit, adjusting Harry so his red tainted face was laid on your shoulder. 
You could only coo at him, kissing his forehead, while your hand ran laxly on the side of his face. Your fingers brushing against the slight scruff against his cheek. Before moving your arm so your hand could massage his scalp at the back of his neck. Letting your fingers run through his lengthy hair at the same time. Your other arm reaches over to pluck a piece of tissue from the box, wiping under his nose softly. 
“Just want them to have a normal life like you and me, it isn’t fair to them that they’ve got to deal with shit like this constantly because of me”
“Baby don’t say that, regardless of it all they’d still have to go through life meeting awful people”
“It isn’t the same y/n, with people like them they know the reason is because of their stupid last name.”
“H” you start sternly, rocking the both of you slowly “Don’t say stuff like that, you think if they had to choose you wouldn’t be their dad? They cherish you so much. I know it sucks I do, but you’re an amazing dad, there’s no one better for them. They would never hold something like that against you, they love you too much to”
“You’re a brilliant mum too. I’m sorry”
“You don’t need to apologize baby” You stopped rocking the two of you slowly, smiling down at him only to see: glossy somber eyes, a subtle simper, and a hiccuping chest.  
-
“Stomachs getting bigger” he stated, his hand rubbing against your stomach absentmindedly.
“Thank you baby, just what every girl wants to hear” 
“No! Not like that beautiful. Just meant now people can see your pregnant again”
“I’m teasing H, I promise the hormones haven’t kicked in yet.”
“Finally get to sleep with ur boobs in front of me every night” He said smugly, naturally looking at you for his favourable reaction.
“You’re such a child” you return, pinching his arm lightly “You wouldn’t want to put it in the nursery?” you ask.
“Wherever you want angel”
That radiant morning led you to now, an impromptu family trip to Target, the kids getting whatever their hearts desired–– to an extent–– while you and Harry stood here astonished by the arrays of different casting kits. 
You raise your conjoined hands to point your finger at a baby blue box.
“That one? Genie told me that’s the one she bought” you queried.
He inspected it, twisting the box practically reading every word, before turning to look at the ingredients. 
“H you probably don’t know what half of those things are”
He shrugged his shoulder in response, looking at the box one last time. “Sure it was this one?” 
“Positive”
You were both meant to go find the kids until they had bustled around the corner, Chase pushing the loaded cart while everyone walked ahead. At the view of his parents. Alec had run ahead towards the two of you a motor car in his hand. 
“Mummy! Daddy! May I get this please?” he asked, raising the toy above his head. 
“Can I get this too please?” Bloo asked quietly, a lego set sat up in her palms.
“You guys were meant to keep them away from the toys” Harry told the older two. Knowing this would just add to their continual influx of toys. “Yes you guys can, go ahead and put it in the cart”
Alec had done his little dance, skipping his way back to the cart while Bloo walked herself carefully. Placing her set down as low as she could without causing any noise or crushing anything else. 
“You both get everything you need?” you asked, following after the twins along with Harry, placing the kit into the cart. 
You looked down at everything noticing some groceries, a few skincare items, a book, something for their rooms, and other things you couldn’t find that laid underneath everything else.  
“Yep, ready to leave when you are” Sydnie had responded.
“Okay let’s head out, Styles” Harry exclaimed, as low as he could, to not disrupt anyone else, Clapping his ringed hands together once.
“Dude, you’re such a dad” Chase quipped.
“Almost like I’ve been raising kids for seventeen years huh?” He jested back, eyes opening wide in faux disbelief, traveling to bother Chase some more. 
Giggling at the two, you looked down when you felt a body pressing into your leg. Familiar arms around your thigh. A distraught Bloo, looking up at you, her chin resting against your thigh.
“What is it, baby?” you asked, softly, tuning out the rest of your family.
“There’s a lady over there. She keeps looking at us” she informed you, pointing her dainty finger discreetly as she could to the woman at the end of the aisle. 
Being only seven the twins had a mutual understanding on why their dad had to leave at times, but that decreased once more when you had fallen pregnant again. They understood all the rules. 
a) if anyone was ever following, acting suspiciously always let mum or dad know–– if dad was there, definitely dad. b) never talk back to the idiots with the bulky cameras. c) Be careful who you talk to and what you say, some people aren’t always what they may seem. 
“H” you called him over.
He walked over to the two of you, eyebrows elevated in question. His hand instinctively brushing over bloo’s hair.
“Uhm maybe we should send the kids to checkout” you tilted your head backward at the not so prudent woman with the shocked face. Her phone pointing towards the two of you. 
You undoubtedly saw the happiness of his face shift to one of vexation and frustration as he glanced quickly, shrewdly at the woman. He extended his hand out to rub your elbow soothingly, nodding wearily. 
He turned to the kids, masking his face as best as he could. “You guys go ahead and save a spot for us, me and your mum are gonna grab one last thing”
They didn’t care much, just wanting to get home as quickly as they could, Sydnie grabbing both of the twins’ hands. 
-
Harry had kindly walked up to the woman, a displayed smile on his face, asking her to delete whatever she had managed to collect. You watched the encounter from the side, rubbing your belly softly, filled with mild angst. 
She had apologized profusely (the embarrassment seeping in her voice), the kindness in Harry letting her know it was fine as long as he could watch her delete everything. 
From her camera roll, Harry could see a video still of before the kids came, when you and him were looking for a casting kit. And some other videos of the family loitering in the target section. 
He bid her a tight-lipped goodbye, after he kindly asked her again, though it was starting to run low, to go to her recently deleted–– he wasn’t the most tech savvy but he also wasn’t an idiot. Once that was ultimately done, he locked your hand into his. 
“Are you okay?” you asked, securing your other arm up to wind around his.
“Just tired of the bullshit...” he sighed. He was just happy that he was able to protect his family this time. 
You halt him swiftly; he looks back at you in confusion, until you lug him down for as much of a hug as you could. Feeling his shoulders sag in relaxation and his arms winding around your waist. 
-
You stood next to Harry, in front of one of the sinks, reading the instructions. 
“So we start with the lubricant first, use these...” holding up a roll of the plaster tape “dip them into warm water, and just putting them on” you informed Harry of your summary.
He nodded, his lip between his fingers as his eyes roamed over the paper once again. “I’ll go get you a chair, pee before we start” He yelled over his shoulder.
He walked back in, a wooden chair between his hands. Setting it to the floor gently, smiling at you to take a seat. Walking back to the sink,resting his hip against the packet of lubricant in his hand. 
You smiled back at him as you took your seat. Deeming it be fit to wear running shorts and a tank top. Harry only in a pair of his joggers. Surprisingly after four kids, this was your first time trying a belly cast and you were a bit nervous wanting it to look just as perfect as it could–– adding your husband being a precisionist into the mix there was no guessing how this would turn out. 
“Take off your top” Harry said smugly, bringing the white packet to his teeth– side eying you–– while he ripped it off. Turning to start the camera propped up on the counter. You insisted this had to be recorded as a little keepsake for the two of you. 
You could only roll your eyes, trying hard not to feed into his ego. But the heat rising from your neck reported him otherwise. Tucking your arms back in the arm holes and raising the shirt off your body. Your body is bare except for the shorts adorning your legs. 
Ogling at you like a caveman playfully at the sight of your boobs out and about, eliciting quick giggles from you. He walked up to you clasping your face between his palms, pressing your aglow cheeks together lightly–– the white, cold packet sitting against your left cheek lightly. Giving you three earnest kisses to your lips and leaning down in front of you, giving a peck to your belly button. 
He squeezed some of the lubricant onto his fingers, deciding to start under your belly. You hissed at the sudden coldness hitting your skin. 
“Okay?” he asked, eyes a bit wide and mouth slightly open.
“A little cold, but you can continue” you let him know. 
He got at it quickly, once he finished that area he stood up a bit getting the sides of your stomach coated. Once he had finished, you stood up looking in the mirror at the shine of your stomach. 
“Now for the fun part” clapping your palms together sitting back down, wistfully watching Harry wash his hands of the substance. He got the scissors cutting the strips of various sizes. Walking to you at times to make sure it fits properly. 
‘Wouldn’t it be easier if I was next to you’ you asked.
Only to be replied with ‘No reason to have you on your feet, if I can walk to you.’ He unquestionably is just a bag of sunshine and everything good in the world.
Filling the sink with warmish water and placing on gloves. Snapping it on dramatically as if he was a doctor in a drama series.  
“Dork”  
He walked over with the first strip in his hand, water dripping behind him as he stepped closer to you. You pulled out your phone quickly wanting to capture a cute picture of this. Right as he placed the first strip you snapped the image. The only thing being seen was your protruded belly and below, his hands placing the plaster tape to your stomach, and a small tuft of his hair from the top of the picture. 
He pulled away proudly, smiling down at his work, with his hands on his hips. “Look at that, looks perfect huh?”
“You’re doing good so far H” you confirmed.
-
It was only fifteen minutes later, half of your stomach–– and that wasn’t saying much.
“Baby it’s fine we’ll just sand it down” you tried to convince H for the last time, but he was stubborn as ever.
His mouth open in excessive concentration, puzzled brows pulled together as he removed the plaster for the fifth time. And from your point of view, you swore, he placed it back on the exact same spot.
“Just wait” he sighed, it wasn’t where he wanted it to be.
“Harry, we’re gonna be forever” you sighed, swaying your feet softly until one of them accidentally knocked into Harry’s leg. He looked down at you, eyes telling you to quit it. 
“See there, you big baby” he grumbled.
“You’ve set it back into the same spot!” you exclaimed.
“No I haven’t, you’re just impatient...sounded a little brit there” he hummed, turning his back to you as he grabbed another slip. 
“Shut up!” 
-
Then there was, naturally, the sudden interruption.
Bloo had stumbled into the bathroom, expressing out about something one of her brothers did when she stopped taking into account, trying to figure out what was wrong with her mum. 
She gasped, eyes wide at the greying stuff. “What’s wrong with mummy?” she asked, looking between the two of you. 
“Turning mummy into a mummy!” He screeched, holding up a plaster strip. 
She brought her hands up to her mouth eyes growing only wider, her lip already starting to tremble. 
“You and your stupid dad jokes” you pulled Bloo closer to you, turning her back to Harry flipping him off behind her head. 
“We’re just doing a cast, don’t worry baby. Remember that episode of Jessie when Ravi got that mask stuck on Luke’s face and ripped his eyebrows off” you explained, She laughed at the connection of the episode. 
“Kind of like that, but without the eyebrows and we’re just using my belly” bringing your thumb to brush her brows up and the corner of her mouth clean. God what were they doing down there.
“Ohh okay that makes more sense.” you smiled back at her. 
-
And Harry who had a bit too much fun when it came to the upper portion of the cast. Acting like Alec does when Paw patrol was on or when Sydnie when her dad allowed her his card to shop. Finding any reason to smooth down the cast with his wet hands. Or taking his time to cover your nipple, using his thumb to level it out. A haughty expression on his face growing the higher he got from your belly button. 
“You’re acting as if we don’t have sex or take showers together” you tell him, popping another goldfish into your mouth (But not the good ones, the disgusting wheat ones Harry urged you and everyone else in the house to eat instead.)
“As if you don’t act like this when I take off my shirt”
He got you there, looking up at you to see you were not going to give him the eye contact he wanted. Your lips closed tight.
He delicately planted the last strip over the top of one of your breasts. 
“Wait, it doesn’t look right” 
“Harry!”
“Just joking y/n, now we wait five minutes and we can pop this off, sand it, and decorate it however you want” he told you, smiling at the finished product, leaning down to kiss your forehead then your lips.
“Wanna do it like this” you twisted your phone around to show him the image on Pinterest. A light blue belly cast, but you wanted it a pretty purple color, that was held against a frame, with butterflies of surveying sizes going across/diagonally the cast.
“However you want lovie” he told you again, pulling your head to his stomach, leaning down to kiss your head. Your arms winding across his waist.
“Thank you” you hummed in satisfaction. 
– – – – – 
if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3
thank you to the anon who requested this!
459 notes · View notes
actualbird · 3 years
Text
// spoilers for Marius SSR Will Of The Trees story part 2 and part 3 and part 4
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KJBKJKSFJJDGKJSD LMAO??? MARIUS VON WHORE???? OH MY GOD, MARIUS, U SHOWOFF. u coulda just left and got the damn wood but no, u had to go show off ur abs. go to the corner and think about what youve done
.....actually, no, i wanna see this. mc, whyd u close ur eyes. whenever i make u visit marius, i am primarily makin u lift his shirt (when im not making u fix his horrid and always up collar UGH) uve seen this already.
tho marius rlly shouldnt be doing this in literal public kjsbgskjsg. we get it, ur an exhibitionist, now put ur shirt down boy.
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oh my god, why are you like this, im going to punch u in the face and kiss u
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no no NOOOO I CANT DO THIS. BABY MARIUS WITH HIS DINO JACKET AAAAAAAAA PLEASE. HES CRYING. DONT DO THIS TO ME.
this is reigniting my desire to write a fic where somehow marius gets de-aged to little kid and the nxx team has to look after him when hes so confused and scared and just wants his brother and the team try to hide the fact that giann is missing but eventually marius finds out and runs away because hes so upset and the team have a fuckin HEARTATTACK trying to find him all night because a little kid alone in the city at night is so so so dangerous. and one of them finds him just crying on a bench and that person comforts him til the rest arrive and they all promise not to hide anything from him again
anyway they spent the rest of marius' kid transformation living together so they can look after him and thus found family feels. marius doodles a picture of the team and giann and even peanut and artem is like "this is wonderful, but where are you?" and marius is like "oh. im not important, it's you guys who matter." artem's heart is goddamn breaking so even if hes shit at drawing, he draws a little stick figure marius in the middle of everybody.
ah. ive thought about this concept a lot. also im wailing crying punching the floor
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giann von hagen little shit: confirmed. but hes a little shit with good intentions, he apparently only said that so marius would stop misbehaving and touching rainforest things without using his braincells kjbfgjsdg
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oh my god....the girl teaching mc the secret prayer carving for marriage...can we give that girl an award, pls, she didnt even get a silhouette sprite but shes out here doing god's work
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mc is so pretty oh GOSH, marius u r so so valid for just hearteyes staring like this.
ahh i cant finish watching this card, i gots date night in a bit. will continue some other time!!
34 notes · View notes
melatovnik · 3 years
Note
ok ur top faves wangxian fics go
hey yati! 🥰️
alright, so first things first, here’s a big wangxian fic rec list i made a while ago, if you wanna check that one out too! consider the list below part 2. these are all my faves so far since my last rec list (as you'll quickly see, i have a LOT of faves).
and just a fyi/psa/disclaimer for anyone reading this: some of these fics have disturbing themes and/or kinky/freaky sex! make sure to check the authors’ tags and notes before reading. also, much like my first rec list, there’s going to be a mix of mdzs and cql canon, characterizations, dynamics, etc., so bear that in mind.
....ok GO
live from new york by varnes | rated E | 87K words | THE snl au fic!!!! yes, by snl i mean saturday night live. this is perhaps the best and funniest story i've ever read, period. varnes is a fucking genius. read this fic.
Wei Ying lets out a long, ugly groan. “I am fine, Lan Zhan. Everybody is overreacting, it’s so embarrassing for all of you.”
“You had undiagnosed pneumonia, which you walked around with for weeks until you passed out during dress,” Lan Wangji corrects him. “It got a big laugh, until everyone thought you were dead.”
He keeps his voice even and does not tell Wei Ying that it had been Lan Wangji who caught him, who called the ambulance, and who rode with him to the hospital, where he was yelled at by nurses who wanted to know why he hadn’t noticed that Wei Ying couldn’t stop shivering or string proper sentences together.
“Rumors of my demise have been vastly overstated,” Wei Ying says. “Anyway, I’m already feeling much better. Basically fine. Really almost completely back to normal, so stop babying me and tell me why the fuck you let your stupid brother hire the worst man in the world to host our show.”
-
OR: the one where they all work at SNL, Yanli's ex-boyfriend is hosting, and that's just the beginning of everybody's problems.
swiss cheese theory by varnes | rated M | 19K words | sequel to snl au fic!!!!!! another must-read.
The Swiss Cheese model of accident causation likens human system defences to a series of slices of randomly-holed Swiss Cheese arranged vertically and parallel to each other with gaps in-between each slice. Defences against failure are modelled as a series of barriers, represented as slices of the cheese. The holes in the cheese slices represent individual weaknesses in individual parts of the system. The system as a whole produces failures when holes in all of the slices momentarily align, permitting "a trajectory of accident opportunity," so that a hazard passes through holes in all of the defences, leading to an accident.
OR: Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian go to the courthouse.
OR: “Sweethearts,” the city clerk had said, very gently, “you’re already married.”
best friends forever by varnes | rated T | 17K words | alright, so like, strictly speaking, wangxian isn't the focus of this fic, BUT. this fic is so good!! it is seriously so good, and it made me fall in love with jin ling/lan jingyi. also, it's varnes, so read it!
It happened like this: Jin Ling was a sect leader now, which was, and Jingyi really meant this, fucking hilarious. There were few things funnier, in his honest opinion.
Because he was young, and inexperienced, and also — it had to be said — a real shithead, there was apparently some belief amongst his advisors that the best way forward, to promote the picture of a stable, mature sect leader who absolutely did not cry at the drop of a hat, was for Jin Ling to get married.
-
OR: Jin Ling and Jingyi get engaged.
Things spiral from there.
For a Good Time, Call by ScarlettStorm | rated E | 171K words
The picture is of Wei Ying, that much is clear. It’s of a lot more of Wei Ying than Lan Zhan is used to seeing. He supposes that, technically, Wei Ying is dressed. It’s a bare technicality, since one of Wei Ying’s hands has rucked up his black tank top practically to his collarbone, showing a long expanse of abdomen and one nipple. Sweat beads on his sternum, catching the light like jewels. His other hand is--Lan Zhan feels his eyes widen, as though unable to look away from a train wreck--on his hip, one thumb tugging down the waistband of a pair of red briefs. Wei Ying is biting his lower lip and looking directly into the camera, sultry, his eyes dark and inviting. His erection is obvious, outlined against the red of the briefs and framed carefully with the hand on his hip. Lan Zhan’s brain goes wildly, screamingly blank.
Or: Lan Zhan accidentally finds his best friend's OnlyFans account and has an ongoing emotional crisis.
love, in fire and blood by cicer | rated E | 360K words | i actually haven't finished this one since i was reading it when it was a WIP, i need to reread it and catch up fjdskl;fjsd, but i love it very much!!!!!! oh my god he wanted to look nice for his husband..... 🙃 [screams with mouth closed]
"You want Wen Ruohan dead," the Patriarch continued idly. "You want his corpse puppets eliminated. You want his halls burned to the ground and his soldiers disemboweled and begging for mercy. Have I about covered it?"
He gave another knife-edged smile.
"But what will you give me in return?"
"We would be willing to offer quite a bit in return for Wen Ruohan's defeat," Lan Xichen admitted. "But I'm afraid we don't know what an immortal such as yourself desires. Please advise us."
The Patriarch waved at hand at the front of the tent. "I want Second Young Master Lan."
(In which the Sunshot Campaign ends through an arranged marriage to the Yiling Patriarch, and Lan Wangji suffers the mortifying ordeal of falling in love with his own husband.)
how to fall in love with a catfish: a guide by wei wuxian (disaster rat) by bwyn & Yuisaki | rated T | 55K words
A new plan hatches in Wei Wuxian’s head. If this nocturnal, bottom-feeding, slimy, invasive mudcat posing as a beautiful actor thinks he can sway Wei Wuxian with animal pictures and a sob story and an unbelievably stilted way of texting with still no dick pictures in the first five minutes of conversation, he has another thing coming. Wei Wuxian’s got it, alright, he has this in the fucking bag.
~
Wei Wuxian plots to expose a catfish using strategic memes and turtle pictures while wiggling his way out of family dinner. Lan Wangji just wants companions.
there’s no promised goodbye here by Yuisaki | rated T | 54K words
Jiang Cheng stares at him. “Didn’t you say you broke up five months ago?”
“Yeah.”
“So why do you have a picture of you two kissing taped to your fridge?”
“Because we’re too broke for magnets,” Wei Wuxian explains, then considers that statement. “Well, I’m too broke for magnets. Lan Zhan probably refuses to buy them because he’s trying to have lofty ideas about the moral failings of materialism.”
~
Wei Wuxian navigates the trials of living with his ex-boyfriend in apartment 1301.
paint smears on sunny days by SnowshadowAO3 | rated E | 54K words
To say that he runs to his car would be incorrect, as he is a Lan, and running is both undignified and unnecessary unless in immediate danger. Nor does he slam his key into the ignition, or aggressively swerve around the cars on the freeway, or have a mild panic attack at the fact he is picking A-Yuan up late from school for the first time ever.
He comes close, though.
By the time he arrives, it’s 4:35PM, and he has imagined about fifty different worse-case scenarios. The door is partly open when he gets to it, a messy label of 104B—Art Room scrawled with chalk on a placard next to the faded wood. As he opens it fully, he expects to see a wailing, terrified child, or perhaps a scene of utter misery and betrayal.
What he finds is his son, hands covered in paint, being sung to by a beautiful, dark-haired stranger.
“Ducks live in the pond, yellow ducks, happy ducks!”
Lan Wangji stops in his tracks.
(Or: Falling in love with your son’s art teacher, in five parts)
a paper friend by sunzu | rated G | 5K words
Lan Wangji finds a paperman far from its body and helps get it home.
-Or-
Lan Wangji unknowingly meets Wei Wuxian for the first time.
All Caught Up by brooklinegirl | rated E | 37K words
"Betrothed," Wei Ying says indignantly.
Lan Wangji can't stop his gaze from darting up to him. Wei Ying understands. Wei Ying is looking at him, wide-eyed and upset on his behalf.
"And you don't even like her," Wei Ying says.
"I don't even know her," Lan Wangji says quietly.
"But even if you did—" Wei Ying starts.
"I wouldn't want this," Lan Wangji finishes.
Lead Me On Through by mrsronweasley | rated E | 55K words | oh look another canon-era practice kissing fic fjdskfl;ds
"Who do you think your betrothed is?" Wei Wuxian asks, sprawling out in front of Lan Zhan and enjoying the prim thinning of his lips at the question. He shouldn't be sprawling—they're in the library, for one, and Lan Zhan is studying, for another—but he can't help himself. Wei Wuxian is a sprawler.
"I do not believe this to be of importance," Lan Zhan responds, without turning his gaze away from his book.
"What!" Wei Wuxian sits up. "How can you say that? Of course it's important! This is the person you'll be with for the rest of your life, Lan Zhan."
I Started From the Bottom/And Now I'm Rich by x_los | rated E | 58K words | ok so i know that in my spiel above i said to mind the tags, etc., but actually pay no mind to the first two relationship tags for this fic. i PROMISE that this isn't that sort of dead dove fic fjdksl;fjs;lifkj. i. it. it's wangxian. don't sweat it. don't even trip. just—this fic fucking rules. it's completely insane and it slaps. wei ying is a girlboss and a bitch and i like her So Much
“First, you get the money. Then you get the power, respect - hos come last.”
Wen Qing traps Wei Wuxian in the Demon Slaughtering Cave, but Wei Wuxian isn’t interested in being the beneficiary of the Wen Remnants’ noble sacrifice. His efforts to free himself accidentally send him back to the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign. Coreless but armed with demonic cultivation, knowledge of the future and his wits, Wei Wuxian takes advantage of this opportunity to come out on top of both the war and its aftermath—before either has a chance to happen—by marrying and swiftly burying the cultivation world’s worst men.
Lan Wangji is confused, hurt, and uncomfortably aroused by Wei Wuxian’s improbably elaborate series of Sect-themed bridal negligees.
rather cruelly used and rather reserved by x_los | rated M | 14K words
In the month between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian leaving Yi City and their attending the cultivation conference in Lanling, Wei Wuxian discovers a locked room in the Jingshi. It is a mystery that clever and curious Wei Wuxian is doing everything in his power to avoid solving.
But the rose was awake all night for your sake/Knowing your promise to me by x_los | rated E | 8K words | resentment tenties~
The resentful energy occupying Wei Wuxian's body like an enemy army is very interested in giving him Lan Wangji, tied up with a bow.
Wei Wuxian is hoping that Lan Wangji (who is far too noble and very keen to save Wei Wuxian's misguided soul) doesn't find out about any aspect of that.
Mo Money, Mo Problems by x_los | rated M | 3K words
After the Mo family perishes in distressing and mysterious circumstances, Wei Wuxian, still reeling from his reincarnation, tries to dip back into their manor for a little travelling money. (Forward planning! What a concept!) Lan Wangji catches him immediately, and is highly unimpressed (read: furious) with Wei Wuxian’s decision to run away from him in the first place.
Standing Engagement by x_los | rated M | 18K words
Lan Wangji believes he and Wei Wuxian are essentially engaged. While they search for his missing betrothed, he accidentally reveals as much to Jiang Wanyin. Now everyone in the cultivation world knows about the imminent marriage, except for Wei Wuxian himself.
Coming Back to Yourself by acernor | rated E | 22K words | genital swapping for fun and nonprofit!
Lan Wangji gets cursed with a ~woman's body~ and has to orgasm to go back. Since he's 1) a virgin 2) super repressed and 3) SUPER gay, he has no idea what to do.
If only he had a super nosy friend who's read lots of erotic novels who could help him figure out what to do... hm...
Save a Sword by etymologyplayground | rated E | 5K words | a fic inspired by the above fic!
Lan WangJi presses a kiss into his throat, which draws a shivering whine from him. "Like this," he agrees, his voice so low. Then he slides one warm elegant hand down Wei WuXian's chest to his belly, and then to his — to his —
--
fan ending for acernor's fabulous masterpiece "coming back to yourself" because i'm a huge goofball and that fic fucks
Our Eyes on the Road by etymologyplayground | rated E | 23K words | brought to you by lore (the author) and Orville Peck's hit song Drive Me, Crazy
Lan Zhan is silent for a long moment, and the van's speakers quietly pipe the second song on the album into the empty space between them. Then Lan Zhan shifts his hand a little on Wei Ying's leg, presses his fingers once into the meat of his thigh. "Alright," he says.
"Alright," Wei Ying echoes in a wheeze.
"Is that better?" Lan Zhan checks, because he is a good boy. Then he spreads his fingers out a little wider, because he is evil and must be stopped.
-
Lan Zhan is driving to Chicago. Wei Ying tags along.
Worship you till morning comes by feyburner | rated E | 7K words
A meet-cute, a first date, a sleepover.
Let's take a ride round the curves of desire by feyburner | rated E | 6K words | yeah........... uhh, yeah.
Wei Ying was sprawled on the floor in front of the oscillating fan when Lan Zhan got home from work.
The Roots Grow Riotous by hansbekhart | rated E | 105K words | a beautifully crafted, emotionally harrowing fic. i should warn you (since it's not quite tagged as such) that while wangxian is endgame, the overall story doesn't have the sort of happily-ever-after ending you might expect. i’ve seen it described as open-ended but hopeful and cathartic, which i find to be a pretty accurate assessment
Sometimes Lan Zhan doesn’t work through lunch. Sometimes he makes conversation with coworkers in the halls. Sometimes he goes home instead of spending the last hour trawling through Grindr. But mostly, that’s exactly what he does. The sameness is comforting. His life spools out in easily measured increments: capsule collections, yards of hand dyed textiles, ninety day lead times, sell through figures, cost of goods sold.
Every date in manufacturing can be calculated backwards and forward from a single horizon point: the date that the goods must arrive into the country where they'll be sold. Other than that, nothing else really matters.
总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near) by yiqie | rated E | 76K words | i can't recall a fic ever affecting me as much as this one did. one of the best stories i've ever read. so, so, so crushingly beautiful. it's viscerally distressing/upsetting at times, especially at the start, so please heed the tags and author's note (they provide a way to skip the beginning scene if needed)!
That’s just the thing, isn’t it? Wei Ying feels nothing. He doesn’t feel anything, and this emptiness should scare him. He knows he should be scared. He wants to be scared. He isn’t. Fear itself is never scary; fear is just a response. It means that your body wants you alive. It’s the absence of terror that scares him.
请兔子吃晚饭; treating a bunny to dinner by yiqie | rated T | 3K words | read this one to recover from the above fic
It’s not really about the food. Being able to share it in the same space is its own kind of magic.
爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie | rated E | 69K words | and then read this one to feel harrowed again, this time in canon-verse!
Wei Wuxian has certainly hoped so ardently in his two lifetimes, for so many different things, in so many different ways, that he could have summoned the demon to his front door with his bare hands. His eyes wander to Lan Zhan, settle on the back of his head, the blue-black curtain of his hair. Oh, how he has hoped.
在此恭迎夷陵老祖; to yiling laozu, the great and venerable by yiqie | rated M | 7K words | read this one to recover from the above fic (this time in canon-verse)
“You don’t know? In Yiling, there’s a tree at the edge of town, one that stands at the fringes of where the city ends and the Burial Mounds begin, called the Lover’s Tree. They say if you write a letter and nail it to its branches, Yiling Laozu will receive it, and he’ll reply.”
你的阳光下; wanna hide in your light by yiqie | rated T | 2K words | :')
Lan Zhan shuts off the water before it can start getting cold, because Wei Ying still needs to take one. Any other day, Wei Ying would have slunk in, pretending to be annoyed that Lan Zhan started without him, and neither of them would have want for hot water, but Wei Ying is still asleep.
From my heart's ground. by orange_crushed | rated E | 38K words | get (orange) CRUSHED!!!!!!!
After a while he can feel a palm against his face, gentle fingers soft and soothing. It’s not real, not exactly: he can tell the difference between a ghost’s touch and a living person’s, between a spirit-vision and an overactive imagination. His education has been thorough. But the beating has also been thorough, so for now he forgets what he knows and leans into it, into the hand cupping his cheek. It’s soft and dry as those forgotten petals, as the touch of a pillow. He can smell wildflowers, can taste blood and dirt. My baby, his mother says, and he closes his eyes. My treasure. He barely remembers the sound of her voice, but the feeling of it is just the same. Just the same as ever.
[In which Lan Wangji loses almost everything, plants a garden, and grows a second chance.]
Pentimento. by orange_crushed | rated E | 73K words | this fic briefly gave me a serious case of career envy :/ ......but seriously, this is an absolute must-read!!!
When Wangji was eighteen he’d walked into the first class of his fall semester painting module and there’d been a boy in a hilariously ugly floppy knit hat sitting cross-legged on the floor at the front of the room. He’d had a sheet of canvas paper taped to his board and his board clamped between his legs and a tackle box of brushes and tubes—a real fishing tackle box, with a fish-shaped logo on it that said BASS, not one of the nice art supply storage boxes they sold in the campus bookstore, like the one Wangji was carrying—open beside him. Everyone else had settled into the rows of stools and easels, but that boy had stayed on the floor for the whole two hour and thirty minute studio. Wangji had looked at him and thought, that idiot’s back is going to hurt.
[Former best friends Lan Wangji, paintings conservator, and Wei Wuxian, art handler, meet again and realize... neither of them were actually in unrequited love.]
Many happy returns. by orange_crushed | rated E | 25K words
His fingers are still clasped between Wangji's. In the mirror Wangji watches him tuck his coat between his thighs so that he can fuss with the tucked-in hem of his shirt, tousle up the side of his hair, all one-handed. "I hope what I'm wearing is okay."
"It's good," Wangji says. "You look good."
"I guess I must," Wei Ying says, and then he smiles and bites his teeth into his bottom lip for a second, devastatingly, and before Wangji can drop dead the doors to the elevator slide open, and the hostess station appears.
[In which lonely businessman Lan Wangji meets the right wrong person and changes the course of his life.]
The dreamers. by orange_crushed | rated E | 17K words
“Stop mothering me,” Wei Ying protests. “Why don’t you ever listen?” He scowls at Wangji, but then the lure of the clean water is too much; he sits grumbling and strips off his vambraces and loosens the collar of his robes and wipes himself down in the steam. Wangji sits on a stool and watches him, and after a while Wei Ying slaps the rag into the bowl and glares back. “Are you going to sit and stare the whole time?” he demands. “You want to see me strip naked and give my filthy evil self a good scrubbing, huh?”
Yes, Wangji thinks.
[This is a story about a horrible war and a beautiful dream; about grabbing happiness where you can find it, and not letting go.]
mercy, tear it down. by orange_crushed | rated E | 31K words
“You want me to call you good?” Wangji says. “To make you feel good?” Wei Ying makes a wretched, soft, surprised sound in the back of his throat. “Then will you be good?”
“Uh,” Wei Ying says. His lashes flick down again, nervously. “Good how?”
Wangji hasn’t quite thought that far ahead.
Kingfisher Feathers by Anonymous | rated E | 83K words | WIP (7/10 chapters, last updated 4/13/21) | omg omegaverse!!!! @/ this anon author... keep up the great work! also i have feelings for u
With an almost trance-like detachment, Wei Wuxian touched his own neck, his fingers skimming over the fresh mark. The bite wound had stopped bleeding, although he had no doubts it would open again if agitated.
Bonded.
He was bonded for life.
"Shit," he whispered. He looked over at the sleeping form of Lan Wangji—the Second Prince of Gusu and, until his brother was found, the sole heir to the throne. "Oh, shit. Lan Qiren is going to kill me."
----------
Lan Wangji goes into a fevered rut and accidentally bonds with Wei Wuxian. When they next meet, he remembers none of it, and Wei Wuxian is determined to keep the bond a secret—even when he's sent to the Cloud Recesses to be a consort in Lan Wangji's harem.
(tl;dr concubine!wwx is already married to emperor!lwj, who has no idea. drama ensues.)
Pull out game weak by 74243 | rated E | 23K words | featuring the hottest meanest dom top lesbian lwj of your wildest dreams. i hope ao3 user 74243 is having an amazing day
Wei Ying swipes right.
Extra Time by Anonymous | rated E | 28K words | fic inspired by the above fic! seriously good
How Wei Ying learned to stop worrying and love the strap (an AU of 74243's Pull out game weak)
Superfan by 74243 | rated E | 19K words | ao3 user 74243 writing banger after banger as per usual
“I’m not going to apologize for my job,” Wei Ying said, “so if you want to give me some kind of lecture--”
“No,” Lan Zhan said. “You misunderstood. I am...” she paused, as if considering the best way to put it. “I’m a fan.”
Spit in my mouth, look in my eyes by 74243 | rated E | 7K works | i'm just going to list all of ao3 user 74243's fics, ok? that's what's gonna happen here
Wei Wuxian was a little surprised herself, although she felt bad for being surprised. Of course it didn’t really mean anything about you, how you presented, Wei Wuxian knew that better than anyone, but all the same it was hard to reconcile Lan Zhan as an omega.
(wwx makes an error of judgment)
If the shoe fits by 74243 | rated E | 8K words
Wei Ying loses a bet.
the And they were roommates series by 74243 | rated E | 19K words total
That was the other thing, when Wei Ying had moved in. She’d scented Lan Zhan immediately, the sandalwood and smoke rising off her, almost before she’d taken in Lan Zhan’s straight posture, her narrowed eyes. She’d known that Lan Zhan could tell, too. At the end, when they’d talked about the rent and Lan Zhan’s nearly finished PhD and Wei Ying’s working hours, Wei Ying had said, casual and effortless, “And you don’t mind that I’m an omega.”
“No,” Lan Zhan said.
Chef's kiss by 74243 | rated E | 7K words
Wei Ying said, “You know, in some ways I’m kind of depressed. I took your biggest dick on my first try. Now I don’t have anything to build up to.”
“There are bigger ones available,” Lan Zhan said lazily. “I can pay for express shipping.”
(Lan Zhan works the late shift.)
Gold-palmed Warrior Quest! by 74243 | rated E | 13K words
When Lan Wangji suggested that they camp along the way to the Unclean Realm, rather than staying at inns, Wei Wuxian had been sceptical.
Dway! by 74243 | rated E | 6K words
“Hm,” Wei Ying said. “You like it rough, though, right? You seem like that kind of alpha.” When she saw Lan Zhan’s expression she raised an eyebrow. “What? Was I wrong? Are you tender and sweet? Do you cry?”
“You were not wrong,” Lan Zhan said. “I do not cry. Do you?”
tgif by 74243 | rated E | 17K words
Today Lan Zhan says that if Wei Ying cannot control her mouth then she will have to tape it shut.
On the ground by 74243 | rated E | 5K words
“I think you will like it,” Lan Zhan said.
Does your mother know by 74243 | rated E | 5K words | editing this rec list on a monday morning to add this brand new fic fresh off the presses. thank u ao3 user 74243 for feeding us so well 🙏
“Lan Zhan is such a well-behaved girl,” Madam Yu said.
all that and more by Euphorion | rated E | 20K words
Wei Wuxian locks his phone and puts it down, blinks at his ceiling, and picks it up again. The pictures are still there.
His first thought is that Lan Zhan meant them for someone else. That he just woke up at—he checks the timestamp—6:30 am on a Sunday and decided to go absolute full nuclear seduction option on some poor boy he met on Grindr, who would now be missing out on the best thing to ever happen to him because Wei Wuxian had a bad habit of distracting—of—oh.
Pieces of last night start to resurface and paste themselves together in his head. He winces.
The Golden Cutsleeve by syrus_jones | rated E | 77K words | of my faves, this is one of my favorite... faves. top faves. incredibly fun and silly and hot. just... oh my GOD, wei YING!
“I know! Why don’t you try it? Let me go and I’ll lend it to you!” Wei Wuxian bribed hysterically, desperate to escape from this encounter by any means necessary. And then, his eyes blew wide, realizing what he just said. ‘Wait— just what am I offering Lan Zhan?!’ he thought. How was he so stupid, how did he just offer that without thinking—
“You want me...to use it… after you?” Lan Zhan asked, his voice unusually faint.
~*~
Wei Wuxian's test of mysterious, literally magical sex toy goes awry when Lan Wangji finds him in the woods 'experimenting' with it and it ends up in Lan Wangji's possession.
Unfortunately, neither of them is aware that the toy is anchored to Wei Wuxian's body. Too bad Wei Wuxian invited him to try it.
Boy Trouble, We've Got Double by saltyfeathers | rated E | 60K words | !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is a really good fic
Lan Zhan stands there in his immaculate, cloud-patterned Lan robes, watching him calmly, one fist tucked up against his back. “I am betrothed.”
Wei Wuxian blinks. “Are you…” He tries to laugh. Again, it sounds inhuman. “Is this about last night? Are you mad at me? I only remember some of it, Lan Zhan. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’m sure whatever I did I was just—” He gestures uselessly. He remembers being warm in Lan Zhan’s lap. He remembers fitting snugly in Lan Zhan’s lap. Wrapping his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck. Nosing at his jaw. “…playing around.”
“This has nothing to do with you, Wei Wuxian.”
none in the forest so bright as these by saltyfeathers | rated E | 6K words
Wei Wuxian puts a hand to his head, brain lost in fog. “Lan Zhan,” he pants. “Why are we here? Are we on a hunt?”
As Lan Zhan tries to remember, his brow furrows. He shakes his head slightly. “I don’t know.”
“This is bad,” Wei Wuxian says. When Lan Zhan cups his cheek again, sparks burst behind Wei Wuxian’s eyes. “Or maybe it’s not,” he says unthinkingly. Sighs, almost. Lan Zhan looks at his own arm like it's betrayed him. Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and presses his face into Lan Zhan’s palm. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” he murmurs. “What’s happening to us?”
out in the garden, there’s things you hid away by saltyfeathers | rated E | 121K words | oww oww oww 😣😣😣💘
There is a man with empty eye sockets and tears of fire in Wei Wuxian’s dreams. Tendrils of smoke curl around him in sleep, pressing at his most vulnerable spots, seeking entrance, slipping between his ribs.
When he ignores Lan Zhan's offers of help, he declines rapidly. He will die. Or, he should. Anyone else would.
Instead, he flees. And transforms.
crawling through your door by saltyfeathers | rated E | 12K words
Lan Wangji kisses him. When he pulls away, he speaks into the silence between them, because when he is with Wei Ying, he so rarely considers. “Why don’t you touch me anymore?”
Lan Zhan Works for the Historical Society by saltyfeathers | rated E | 7K words | some real real good lesbian action up in here
Pretty Lan Zhan. Beautiful Lan Zhan. Ice queen Lan Zhan. So intimidating and femme and coldly polite in public, yet meaner than a man in the bedroom. Wei Ying has slept with men before and none of them were mean-nice to her like Lan Zhan.
threadfic by saltyfeathers | not rated (each chapter rated/tagged individually) | 34K+ words | WIP (11/? chapters, last updated 3/15/21), but it’s a collection of stand-alone oneshots
semi cleaned-up wangxian twitter threadfic.
【已經打動我的心】So Sing To Me All Night by aroceu | rated T | 10K words | arrow writes wei ying so exquisitely well. i was weepy the whole time read this fic. for the best experience, i recommend following along with the accompanying spotify playlist.
No one listens to the radio in this day and age, but somehow from a bunch of left clicking and right clicking, through Facebook and Twitter and Youtube, Wei Ying finds himself on the WQHS homepage—the UPenn student radio station, promising eclectic tastes from a variety of hosts. Wei Ying can't remember giving a shit about his old college's student radio before he dropped out, but it's eleven at night and he has nothing else better to do. He clicks on the button that says Listen Here! and waits to be impressed.
get wild by aroceu | rated E | 24K words | 🔥🏀🔥 BASKETBALL FIC 🔥🏀🔥
He was looking for a specific reaction—to get Lan Zhan to lash out. All hard edges and demanding, the same way during the first scrim, Lan Zhan's dark voice had made him loose and obedient, itching to both rebel and obey at the same time.
It's them, whatever it is, but it doesn't belong on the basketball court.
~
Wei Ying didn't expect to enter a weird... something-with-benefits-plus-power-play with the captain of the Gusu basketball team. He's not sure if it's worth it.
without a warning by aroceu | rated T | 10K words | 🥺️🥺️🥺️
“Blegh,” Wei Ying says. “I hate being sick, Lan Zhan… my throat is so sore… why do I talk so much?”
“Stop talking then,” Lan Zhan says.
“You don’t mean that,” Wei Ying says, in his half-asleep daze. “I know you’ll never admit it, Lan Zhan, but you like it when I talk.”
your honor i’m a freak bitch by aroceu | rated E | 6K words
Wei Ying gestures to his outfit. His hands are buried deep within the hoodie; he’s mostly gesturing with the sleeves. “Well, it works with the whole get up, you see?”
“The…” Lan Zhan looks down at where his fingers are toying with the top of Wei Ying’s thigh highs. Wei Ying pretends he is not shivering. “…skirt. And these stockings.”
“Thigh highs, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying says, batting at him with the end of a sleeve.
Play It By Ear by aroceu | rated T | 7K words | MY HEART !!!
In the virtual airplane flying over the island, appropriately called Yiling, Lan Zhan watches as bits and pieces of the island load in. There are many Statues of David, a gothic teacup ride, and, from what Lan Zhan can see, an entire field of spoiled turnips.
hanguang-jun @/hanguangjun Do you need turnips to sell?
timmy and tommy in a trenchcoat @/yilinglaozu oh! no haha! 😅 those are from a while ago but my brother insists i keep them there
for the ~aesthetic~
the key that our souls were singing by aroceu | rated M | 5K words
“I haven’t seen you since—Gusu, was it?” Wei Ying says. “Oh my god, it’s been so long. I didn’t even know you were LGBT! Unless you’re here as an ally, which is also totally cool—”
“No, I.” Lan Zhan coughs. Her throat feels dry. “I am a lesbian.”
abort retry fail by aroceu | rated E | 21K words
Lan Wangji must miss his husband over this amnesiac of a man Wei Wuxian has turned into. Well, Wei Wuxian will show him! He'll be even better—or at least, try to be just as good of a husband as he would be, without his memory loss.
Blackout If You Were Mine by aroceu | rated E | 9K words
Wei Ying likes to wear chokers a lot. So Lan Zhan buys some for him. Then, testing their limits, collars.
Wei Ying wears those, too.
-
Or, the one where Wei Ying and Lan Zhan accidentally stumble into a BDSM relationship.
eleven thousand meters & airborne by aroceu | rated E | 5K words | 😎✈️😎
Lan Zhan and Wei Ying join the mile high club.
many fox given by defractum | rated E | 24K words | can't go wrong with foxxian and dragonji content 🦊🐉
Lan Zhan is glaring at him. That's probably fair.
The last time they'd seen each other, Wei Ying had been digging through Lan Zhan's garbage. They'd made eye contact over the shredded bags, the week's trash scattered around him like stinky, oversized Lego.
Lan Zhan's eyes had been wide with horror, and Wei Ying's had been equally wide with feigned innocence. He'd reached out slowly, maintaining the eye contact, and then flipped over the food waste bin full of onion peel and carrot skin as a distraction and slunk off into the night. Probably not his finest moment.
-
Modern AU dragon!LWJ meets fox!WWX.
the tamed by defractum | rated E | 12K words
If the Second Jade of Lan insists on bringing the Yiling Patriarch as his guest to the next Cultivation Conference, he must first demonstrate a control over the Yiling Patriarch and his unnatural abilities.
The letter lies on their desk for days.
-
Post-canon, Wei Ying is invited, sort of, to a Discussion Conference.
us in a king-size, keep it a secret (say i'm your queen, i don't wanna leave this) by matcha_ado | rated E | 3K words
People always said Wei Ying was a royal pain in the ass. They were absolutely right, of course, just not in the way they thought.
it is wednesday my dudes by jelenedra | rated M | 4K words
Wednesday nights at Cloud Recesses strip club are always a little weird, but usually they're not this horny. Whatever Wei Ying and Lan Zhan get up to, Mianmian is not going to be the one to clean it up.
i'm the one for your fire by occultings | rated E | 43K words | cherry magic au! love it
Wei Ying, virgin and noted heterosexual, gets hit with a curse of an unusual nature on his 30th birthday — through physical contact, he can read the minds of others around him.
Enter Lan Zhan, hot former rival and current coworker, whose true thoughts about Wei Ying are nothing like he expects. (A loose Cherry Magic AU)
a thousand teeth, yours among them by darkredloveknot | rated E | 11K words
A one night stand in the time of zombies.
hoe to housewife pipeline by lanzhancore | rated E | 5K words
“You type fast,” Wei Ying murmurs, making a futile attempt at conversation while he waits for him to be done with… whatever. “Not to be pushy, but do you plan on fucking my ass anytime soon?”
or: wei ying has been thirsting after lan zhan for three slutty slutty years
can you feel it by lanzhancore | rated E | an instant classic
“What’s wrong?” Wei Ying asks finally, eyebrows drawn together. “Is everything okay?”
Thumbs stroking circles into his skin as if to comfort him, Lan Zhan says, “Don’t panic.”
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, sitting up on his elbows. “What did you do to my ass?”
“Nothing,” Lan Zhan says, convincing nobody. “But we need to go to the hospital.”
or: wei ying really should have sprung for the model with the flared base. he learns this lesson the hard way.
because you're mine (i walk the line) by lanzhancore | rated E | 8K words
Wei Ying is freshly cream-pied and still trying to remember where his legs are when Lan Zhan outlaws masturbation.
or: wei ying fucks around and finds out
payload by lanzhancore | rated M | 3K words | babysitter wwx + dilfji, what more could you need
Wei Ying has a whole five hours and thirty-six minutes to calm down but when he hears Lan Zhan’s key turning in the front door lock later that evening he has to cling to the couch cushions to keep from marching into the laundry room to retrieve the briefs so he can wave them in Lan Zhan’s face and demand to know who owns them.
or: lan zhan's self-restraint is not limitless
the to the brim series by verseau | rated E | 14K words total
Wei Ying wants to rob him, but it wouldn’t even be satisfying, since this guy is just—giving away money. With his nice fingers. Maybe Wei Ying will just bite his fingers, and that will give the same endorphin rush as robbing him. / a day told across five parts.
get that message home by verseau | rated G | 2K words | ohhhhhhhhh myyyyy godddddd 😭
Sizhui's father cannot haggle. It is a shame on Sizhui’s honor to have such an honest father.
Author's note [i'm including it here because it's golden]:
there is a scene in arrested development where lucille, who is on the opposite spectrum of humanity as lan zhan, asks, "it's a banana, michael. how much could one cost? ten dollars?" there are no bananas in this story.
dreaming and getting a glimmer by verseau | rated E | 27K words | a particular favorite of mine 🔥🍆💦🕳🔥
Wei Ying discovers himself.
trust your fingertips by plonk | not rated (but really rated E) | 15K word | 🥵️🥵️🥵️🥵️🥵️ plonk you’ve done it again!
Lan Wangji must suppress a shiver at every brush and press of Wei Wuxian’s fingers.
Under different circumstances - less public ones - he would welcome touch, given that his body is in such an aroused state.
Alas, his circumstances are these: sitting quietly while Wei Wuxian, the famous (infamous) Doctor of Yunmeng, digs his fingertips into Lan Wangji’s shoulders and chest and sides and hums thoughtfully.
Doctor, Doctor by YunmengLotus | rated E | 4K words | mmmmhmm!
Wei Ying needs to get a prostate exam. How ever will he deal when the world's hottest doctor walks through the exam room door and tells him to bend over?
TAKOYAKI by ariskamalt | rated E | 3K words | lan zhan gets jealous of his own damn appendages. meanwhile, wei ying is just having a good time.
Lan Zhan…cannot always feel or tell what his tentacles will do.
His free hand curls into a fist. Underneath his skin, the tentacles give a little squirm, as if aware of the challenge he has just issued them. No touching Wei Ying unless he says so, because he wants to touch Wei Ying first. They squirm again, as if to say, Tentacles: 1, Lan Zhan: 0.
That will just have to be remedied.
Or, as phnelt first described: Tentacle-ji with the semi autonomous tentacles getting jealous of his tenties for touching Wei Ying in places he hasn't yet
Outage by SugarMilkTea | rated E | 3K words | [cough] 😳😳😳
The power goes out in Lan Zhan and Wei Ying's rural home in the countryside. Lan Zhan takes advantage of the darkness to give in to one of his baser urges, and Wei Ying's first rural power outage experience is about to get a lot more interesting.
big hands (i know you’re the one) by martyrsdaughter | rated E | 8K words | NICE. 🔥🔥🔥
“Not a big talker, hm?” Wei Ying tilts his head to one side. “That’s okay, I’ve been told I’m a good enough conversationalist for three. My tongue is multi-talented and—”
He has just enough time to feel her palm on the back of his neck and think, oh, her hands are so big, before his words are being stolen into her mouth.
darling, am i a chore? by martyrsdaughter | rated E | 7K words
“Are you done playing around?”
Knowing that’s not what either of them actually wants, Wei Wuxian reaches up to tickle under Lan Wangji’s chin. Soft little scritches, coaxing motions—Lan Wangji is weak to all of them.
“You know what I want,” Wei Wuxian purrs, reaching up on his tiptoes to throw his arms over Lan Wangji’s shoulders. “Call me gege, won’t you? Call me and I’ll stop.”
(or: five times Lan Wangji paid special attention to Wei Wuxian’s interest in being his gege.)
put him on his knees, give him something to believe in by dustyloves | rated E | 2K words | if the title is quoting WAP, then you should know by now it’s gonna be some of that good filth
The next time Wei Ying kisses him, Lan Zhan is careful again. Wei Ying seems determined to make it very difficult.
the hard way by dustyloves | rated E | 9K words
"Anyway, you make it sound like something lewd is going on," Wei Ying complains. "It's all totally above board. She's just being a nice person. It's just one kind alpha grad student offering one room of her huge house to one beta undergrad in need, what could be more appropriate than that?"
// Wei Ying makes a mistake and finds out the hard way.
Exhibition by sevenless | rated E | 5K words
“Oh?” Wei Wuxian raises an eyebrow. “The forbidden section, Lan Zhan?”
“Mn.”
“You’re not afraid of being heard?” Wei Wuxian thinks aloud. A smirk creeps onto his face, eyes glinting. “Or could it be that Lan-er-gongzi actually wants to be heard? Seen? Caught?” He skips in front of him, blocking his way. "Disciplined?”
Lan Wangji’s ears, as always, betray him.
a history of the body by northofallmusic | rated E | 14K words
Wei Ying's body hurts sometimes; she lets Lan Zhan help her.
A fic about the complicated nature of having a body, and also the versatility of sex toys.
(our friendship) up against the ropes by daltoneering | rated E | 36K words
The reboot completes, and Wei Ying’s brain smashes this information together into two mind-shattering thoughts. Number one, he knew very well already, and is now further seared by defined muscles and a mouth-watering tattoo into his every waking moment: Lan Zhan is the hottest fucking person on the planet.
Number two: that guy wasn’t visiting Lan Zhan’s neighbour, he was visiting Lan Zhan, which means:
Lan Zhan fucks. Lan Zhan fucks. Lan Zhan fucks.
;
Lan Zhan has been Wei Ying's best friend for years. Literally, years. How did he not already know? How has he missed this most important of facts? And more importantly, how is he ever going to get over it?
watching my heart go round by typefortydeductions | rated E | 38K+ words | WIP (2/4 chapters, last updated 5/2/21) | lan zhan i love you baby 💞
Lan Zhan falls apart. As it turns out, that's not the end.
~
oh man this list is so long sd;jfkdsjfhhh
yati, i hope you find some stuff in this pile here that you’ll enjoy! it's not an exhaustive list, so check out the authors’ other works and bookmarks for more goods, if you feel so inclined 😙💕
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ASKS (28)
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Anonymous said: Hi ily💓
I love you too! There is love in my heart and you may take some
Anonymous said: Hey hey hey Amesssss!!! what was the first fic you ever wrote?
Well. Technically the first written piece was a play I wrote at around 13? It was about all of the characters from the Percy Jackson series watching Disney’s Hercules together
My first bat fic was this one, back in I want to say 2014
Anonymous said: You are a snack . So cute ❤❤❤❤
[Lizzo voice] baby I’m the whole damn meal 
Anonymous said: You may’ve done badly but you looked fine as heck doing it. (I’m aroace—I’m not hitting on you, I promise). Besides, everybody has off days. Even lawyers.
akhfasufgdlfeas I appreciate the clarification <3
Anonymous said: For my summer job I went through a lawyer’s disaster of an office and let me tell you. 90% of it was Westlaw printouts. Those things are the effing best. They tell you what’s going on, they give you the info you need, they’re not weirdly complicated and hard to find—Westlaw. It may be prohibitively expensive and a symptom of the flaws in our legal system, but by golly it’s the best option.
When you hit that “forms” button......... the magic....... the beauty.....
andromeda270 said: My legal research class got us two free weeks of westlaw(I’m still in college) and when I didn’t finish a paper I made a free trial for the wrong site but they emailed me anyway asking if I was interested in buying and could they talk over the phone. I fessed up and they gave me another free week to work on a paper for some class
That’s how they get you!!!!
collidinglegends said: Lexis is shinier, WestLaw is better
Amen babe
Anonymous said: Please sleep
Who’s got the time
Anonymous said: hi !! quick question . I’ve followed you for a while and i think i asked you this previously but im not sure... do you write Duke ?? would you be comfortable writing him if i sent in a prompt including others in the fam ?
Sure, if I like the prompt. I write Duke every once in awhile, although I wouldn’t say I’m confident doing it. He’s a fairly new character and I stopped reading weeklys about the time I hit law school three years ago
Anonymous said: Hope you feel better soon... I'll pray for you
Ah thank you friend I appreciate you
areverieofchaosdreams said: I'm probably pretty late to this cause I'm not great at time, but your thing is making All the Feelings tm. But in a good way. You and dapanda were the first batfam blogs I ever followed, and it's been a helluva ride. Your way of writing things just pulls me in a way that few do, so thank you. :)
A single tear falls from my lashes, followed by several more because I cry a lot 
hades-in-a-handbag said: Your thing is being the embodiment of goth mom energy Don't know if it's just your literal handle or what but you're so encouraging and motherly and also dark and emotionally scaring with your writing. Very sweet, very spooky
goth mom energy 
Anonymous said: Omgggg ames, ginny is so grown up!!!!!
She is! She’s a teenager 
morallyunequivocal said: not a prompt but oh no i just made myself sad with that last ask
that’s a mood
Anonymous said: You make plushies? Wtf, how did you get to be so talented and adorable at so many things. You’re amazing and I hope law school goes well.
Oh you’re so so sweet
Anonymous said: What law school things have you learned that you could see the bat family deals by with?
Well, I’ve had to take classes about forming and maintaining businesses, finding tax loopholes, writing and litigating contracts, and real property. Those are all things that WE would deal with on the regular. I also took classes on juvenile and adult criminal law, evidence, and police misconduct, which all seem Bat-relevant. At this exact moment I’m taking family law, which would include adoptions, and I have in the past taken classes about trusts and estates.
Anonymous said: Noooooooo no nono 🙏🙏🙏 dont ignore her 💔
Bad kittens get ignored instead of cuddled
crayolapumpkins said: hope the printing isn't too boring !! + I'm loving the fics , your work is always *chef's kiss* !! thank u for ur hard work ✨✨✨
[heart eyes]
Anonymous said: Since you have a big brother and a tiny sister, with that huge gap, what do you feel when you see those Dick & Damian fics or headcanons where Dick sees Damian as both a brother and a son? I know it's kind of canon now, but fandom has even gone as far as having Dick adopt Damian in various situations. Their age gap and their positions in the family allows for that kind of dynamic and I know it's reality for a lot of people too. But what's Your opinions on this? And maybe your brother's?
Huh, that’s a good question. My littlest brother and I are ten years apart, and Dave will tell you flat out I’m his favorite sibling because when I’m home we do everything together. I think the thing those fics are collectively missing is that there doesn’t need to be a brother/father hybrid because the role of Older Sibling With Age Gap is already its own distinct thing. 
Dave and I don’t have the same dynamic as the kids I actively grew up with. We had very limited contact during his growing up years, because I was off at school. Now that he’s a teenager, we communicate like adults but with the caveat that I am In Charge. I dictate the agenda, and I make the decisions unless I choose to delegate them. 
I’ve indulged a request about an adoption before, but I don’t really like that idea very much. Like I said, I don’t feel the need to add “father” into a dynamic that already exists on its own. 
hollyhock13 said: Listen. You’re a middle kid, but not the middle middle kid. You’re towards the older end, but not the oldest. Maybe second or third, depending on how many siblings you have
Correct!
Anonymous said: That is the coolest blanket I've ever seen!!
Isn’t it just 
Anonymous said: We're having a big adoption event tomorrow in Houston and we sent all the animals in our shelter down there. Our supervisors are in Houston too so us few kennel techs left at the shelter are scrubbing the place from top to bottom. We have music playing on the loud speaker and just ordered pizza. It's a great day. :)
:D
Anonymous said: Pls continue the Tim and hallucination Damian thing im on edge
Anonymous said: Bls bls bls continue the tim hallucinating dami fic, bc its killing me in the best way. My heart. It hurts. That shit hurted.
maybe
Anonymous said: Ames, thoughts on the new joker movie?
I haven’t seen it, although I probably will when I get the time
Anonymous said: Idk if this is a secret, more like a guilty confession. I really, REALLY hope Damian turns out asexual, or at least romantically unattached. I LOVE that most of his good interactions are with his vaious Bat siblings, Jon, Maps and his pets. Everyone loves shopping him with varuova characters and it makes me hesitate to share my opinion incase I'm looked at weirdly. But having a character I look up to be asexual would be amazing.
I would really like that too anon
Anonymous said: what do you think about Drake & his new outfit?
ugly
Anonymous said: Alfred Pennyworth is the baddest bitch
You are not incorrect
bruciewayneisbatman said: Amy and Kenza are the bittersweet queens of this fandom. The both of you are absolutely evil and tooth-rotting sweet at the same time. I love you two for that, btw.
<3 thanks Esther 
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