#back in my day my parents sent me to school with $2 and i was able to get full-ass meals at every fast food place in a five block radius

[kateminttea]

Welcome back to Part 2 of me writing down ideas for Arcane/Dead Space crossover under the name “Based on part 1 you thought that Viktor and Jinx are dead, well guess again.”

If you noticed me mentioning in my first post, that I have ideas based on DS 1 and 2, you probably can guess that Jinx will partly take Stross' side.

Powder grew up on one of the remote planets, which was part of CEC mining colonies. Her parents died in one of the mining accidents, so she and her sister were taken under the wing of Vander and Silco. Everything was going good until Powder was 10. On that day Silco forgot his lunch and Powder decided to bring it to him. Two of her older siblings joined her, because even if she was saying that “She is 10, she is an adult!”, Powder was still a family baby.

Vander stayed at home with Vi, who was sick. When kids didn’t come back in a few hours, Vander started to worry. Then he received a message that one of the mines collapsed.

Debris removal was going on for 5 days. On the second day, a team sent by EarthGov took everything in their hands. On the 6th day, it was announced that there were no survivors and that they were able to retrieve some bodies, which will be given back to relatives.

Vander and Vi were able to get back Claggor and Mylo, but Powder and Silco bodies were never found.

But in reality it was not true, at least one person survived. On the third day in one of the small side caves a child was found. When the EarthGov team broke one of the walls, they found a child who looked at them with crazy eyes and walls of a cave filled with Marker symbols and schematics. Everything shows that child was affected by the Marker dementia, which could be possible, since deep in the planet were buried pieces of the Marker that was destroyed after one of the unsuccessful experiments.

Damn, mine story getting more and more Marker variants.

Now, lets speak about Viktor Reveck. He is the younger son of the Corin Reveck. His childhood was calm and quiet. Yes he had some health problems, but thanks to modern medicine and that his RIG system was improved by his father, it was possible to fix them before his situation became worse. Plus, his father was working in medical sphere and most of his research during Viktor's childhood were about possibilities to improve lives of people with chronic illnesses.

But when it finally looks like Reveck family problems went away, everything went down. Viktors older sister Orianna was a healthy and curious child. Oh, I forgot to mention that the Reveck family lived on a station like the Sprawl (Titan Station). So, on one of the days Orianna left for school, but she never got there. She decided on this day to go for a Journey to the Station mines. She heard from one of her friends from her Sunday school, that you can get there through the catacombs of the Church of Unitology. She was going to check everything, so next time she will take her brother with her. It will be like a Hobbit Journey and they will have a picnic in the mines.

Somehow an 11 years old child was able to get through the Church catacombs and ventilation system to the mines, but it didn’t end well. Orianna tripped and fell into one of the shafts. Workers heard child’s scream and found her very fast, but she didn’t survive the fall.

Corin Reveck changed after the death of his daughter, he isolated himself in his research work and broke all connections with Church of Unitology, part of which he was in the memory of his deceased wife. There were only 2 people to whom he still showed emotions: his son and his old friend and co-worked Heimerdinger.

One of the things that Corin Reveck taught his son, to never ever trust the Church of Unitology and everything connected with it. Who knew that it would later help his son to survive the Marker Incident on Aegis V.

Altman be praised, I have so many Markers created by human in this AU.

And I will finish here for today, it looks like we will have Part 3, which will finally be the DS2 part. Still I want to remind you that it should have been just 1 small post. And here we are…XD

P.S. You can find first part here: https://www.tumblr.com/kateminttea/779313427214647296/so-i-am-writing-down-ideas-for-jayvik-fanfics-in

[cathnospam]

Love your fics girlll, if your taking requests can I please have a Katsuki x black female who is his secret(?) girlfriend comes to visit him at UA Dan be sfw or nsfw🫶🏾

When I made this page I really didn’t wanna do requests because I like writing self indulgently but this was a very cute idea. So. I’ll make it an exception. Hope you like it. Thank you <3

Warnings: Smut, Mentioning Oral, Breeding(?), Reader is mentioned to have braids and bilingual, Bakugo speaks German, Fluff turned to smut, Established relationship, College UA AU

-

“Where are you?”

“Turn around.”

It’s been a couple years since you and Bakugo became in an exclusive relationship and despite you living in America, and only visiting during the summer you managed to get an intern job at a hero Agency in Japan relatively close to UA.

You swore this relationship wouldn’t work, but Bakugo was oddly persistent in you being his, and it didn’t take long to convince you your relationship would last simply because Bakugo never had eyes for anybody else. So it was either you or nobody.

He would occasionally send you package gifts of Japan snacks you wanted to try, and even sent you a bracelet that can send vibrations of the word “I love/miss you.” On it that you both never take off. It was hard only seeing him for 2 weeks out of an entire year for 3 years but it was worth it when you both graduated from high school.

You and him were mentally counting down the days and seconds when you were finally moving down to Japan for good and seeing your taller, and more muscular blonde boyfriend in his cut sleeved shirt made you squeal.

He looked even sexier from behind and in person.

“You’re choking me, girl.” You can hear a slight playfulness in his voice as he carries you up to hug with one arm. “Finally. Took you long enough.”

“I knoooowwwww. I’m so glad to be back!” You giggle down to land him a small peck on the cheek which left him already boiling in embarrassment.

“Tch.” He mumbled, gently putting you down, patting your ass in the process before taking your bags. “You got your damn gloss on me.”

You fake pity him to wipe off the smeared lip combo you left on his cheek but he dodges your hand.

The ride back to UA was a bit nerve racking for your Blondie. He never told anybody about you, it wasn’t necessarily a secret, but it definitely wasn’t something he just outed to tell people. The only person that was aware of you and met you in his life was his parents and Aizawa mainly because he needed his approval for you to come to his dorm before you head to stay at your hotel.

You on the other hand was excited. Finally get to see some of Japan’s future amazing hero’s . You heard a lot about them through social media and Bakugo.

Upon entering the first person you encounter was Deku walking past and he freezes seeing you.

“I—oh hello! My name is Izuku—-“

“Izuku Midoriya yeah I’ve heard about you.” You grin, Deku immediately getting warm in the cheeks hearing your slight accent as you speak to him in Japanese. you sounded so cute. “Nice to meet you I’m Y/N.”

It didn’t take long until Denki walked in, then Sero, Kiri, Mina, and everybody else swarmed around you. Assuming you were a new student for the college semester, but it annoyed Bakugo seeing how close and interested the guys were getting towards you, and even Mina giving you a few flirtatious compliments he had to clear the air.

“She’s my girlfriend.” He deadpanned. Which left the entire common room to go radio silent.

“Your WHAT?”

Bakugo wasn’t sure if he should blast the room out or just take you to his room and be done with this. But you spoke up for him instead.

“Yes, me and him met a few years ago during high school and—“

“That mission we took overseas?” Shoto asked softly. You nodded.

“So THAT’S why you disappeared so many times—“

“SHUT UP NERD.” Bakugo cut Deku off from possibly yammering aloud what he recalled from that week.

You didn’t go into much detail of your relationship besides how long you both been dating and why you’re here. Eventually a few questions about your hair, you had on Boho Braids and many of the girls were so amazed on how beautiful your skin and hair was.

Eventually the questions began to die down and your boyfriend was getting antsy waiting for you in his room.

It was a blessing and kind of annoying because he took your baggage in his room and freshened it up a bit for you to feel comfortable.

You said your goodnights and goodbyes , hearing a few snickering and giggles from Denki and Sero as Bakugo comes to snatch get you back to his room.

“They were so nice.”

“And a pain in the ass.” He grumbles locking his door.” They didn’t ask you any uncomfortable questions did they? “

“Oh no of course not.” You reassured him before giving him a proper kiss on the lips.

You could feel his mouth curl into a smirk. A very familiar one that you haven’t seen since the first time you both slept together.

And that’s been a whole year.

….

“‘Suuuukkiiii~” You whined into his pillow that smelled like him, which was making you more intoxicated from what he was doing between your legs.

“Gatta be quiet.” His voice rumbled on your clit making your back arch. “Next time we’re fucking in your hotel room.”

……

“Y/N…” He groans in your ear, his arms so tightly wrapped around your waist as you feel every inch of his dick stretch you out more until his pelvis snaps against yours.

All you could hear was the outside chatter of class 1-A and the shallow breaths of you and him being exchanged.

“Ganna fucking cum if I move just wait.”

The smell of your pussy on his breath made you clamp down on him. Swallowing his broken moan into your mouth because he was exactly what you missed. He suckled on your fat bottom lip and kissed your beautiful brown, sweaty skin on your neck as he pushes your braids to the side.

You heard his bed creak as he slowly began to move in and out. He whispers in your ear how many times he’s fucked his hand to the thought of being inside of you again, how much he missed you, how badly he needed you while you were away.

He always got like this when he was inside you, a dirty talking mess.

On occasion Bakugo would breath out words in German, but you couldn’t hear exactly what he said just the accent and that alone drove you insane, because the tired rasp of his natural voice coming out made you melt in his arms.

“Y/N….where…where can I…?”

“Inside, Baby inside. I’m—-I’m on birth control—ah!”

The moment he got your approval he began to pick up the pace, your legs now over his shoulder and your knees touching your own shoulders you officially were feeling all of him and you could not do anything but take whatever he was giving you.

Your throat just aching to let go and moan his name and he knew so he put his hand on your mouth.

“Sssh shhh shhhh N/N…. I know…” Bakugo knew if anybody heard you two that’d be the topic of discussion for WEEKS.

Everybody in his class has had sex, but nobody ever thought whether Bakugo has or not, but after tonight and from the way you just couldn’t shut the fuck up.

They know now how Bakugo gets down. :P

[pyrrhiccomedy]

I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.

Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.

My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.

Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.

And then the pandemic hit.

And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?

And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."

Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.

And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.

We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.

The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."

I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."

Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"

I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.

"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."

She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.

[lovemaybankk]

sweet - part 1: rafe cameron x kook!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x kook!reader

read part 2 here!

inspired by lana del rey's song, "sweet" ♡

summary: growing up with your protective older brother, topper thornton, has been challenging yet comforting. until recently, have you been starting to see your older brother's friend, rafe cameron, in a new light and your relationship with him starts to change.

word count: 2,324 words

author's note: thank you so much for reading this new series!! i sincerely hope you enjoy :)

p.s. next chapter includes smut!!

warning: cursing, mostly fluff!

"topper!" you called out, your voice sharp as it bounced off the walls of your large kitchen. "topper, where are you?!" frustration bubbled up as you roamed through your house, checking room after room. the faint thrum of loud music reached your ears, pulling your attention toward the home gym.

with a deep breath, you shoved open the door to the home gym, the music instantly blasting at full volume as if it had been lying in wait.

"topper!" you yelled, your voice barely cutting through the pounding bass that seemed to vibrate the very walls.

dumbbells, resistance bands, and foam rollers were scattered across the floor and in the center of it all, topper was doing bicep curls with his dumbbells, completely immersed in his conversation with his two friends, kelce and rafe. you had absolutely no idea how they could even hear each other with that loud of music playing.

"topper!" you shouted again, louder this time. he froze mid-curl, finally noticing you, and a little startled yet annoyed at his younger sister for barging in.

"what do you want, y/n?" he barked, as though you were the one intruding.

you marched straight to the speaker and turned the volume down to a level that wouldn’t have the neighbors filing noise complaints. the music dropped to a faint hum.

behind you, kelce was pumping through incline bench presses, his grunts in rhythm with his reps. rafe, meanwhile, was bent over a barbell, effortlessly pulling through a set of deadlifts.

"are you kidding me?" you snapped, spinning around to glare at your brother. "topper, you ate my food in the fridge! that was mine!"

he rolled his eyes, tossing the dumbbells onto the floor with a loud thud. "god, y/n, relax. it’s not a big deal. i'll give you cash and you can buy another one that's freshly cooked anyways."

"you’re so selfish, you know that?" you said, folding your arms.

he snorted. "chill out, y/n. here..." he pulled out his phone in his pockets and started frantically pressing the screen. you felt a vibration in your pockets and brought your phone lit up to your face to see a notification,

"'top' sent $100"

"that should be more than enough. go get yourself snacks if you want too. whatever will make you shut the hell up."

growing up, topper had a habit of finding ways to annoy you whether it was stealing your food when he knew you’d been saving it, blasting his music in the middle of your movie nights (with yourself), and even leaving behind his messes for you to clean.

and yet, in his own way, he cared about you. like the time in elementary school when you scraped your knee during a particularly bad fall on your bike. you’d been crying, more out of frustration than pain, and instead of teasing you for being "soft," he had come back minutes later with a band-aid, your favorite snack, and an awkward pat on the back.

there were moments when he let his guard down to be a good older brother. moments when he’d pick you up from sports practice, or buy you a bag of clothes after a long day, or cover for you when you accidentally broke the vase that one summer.

since then, topper had continued to care for you in his clumsy older-brother way. sure, your parents mostly favored him but their expectations for him still existed. they expected him to excel, to lead, and to be a perfect role model for you, especially since he was (exactly two years) older. topper carried the weight of their demands, which often translated into him pestering you with the same energy he’d picked up from your parents. like now.

"why don’t you just go and hop on your bike now, huh?" he said, cracking open his water bottle as though the solution was obvious. "go grab something to eat, chill out, and leave us alone."

"it’s literally freezing outside, topper," you shot back, already regretting coming into the gym.

"you’ll be fine,” he said, smirking as he leaned back against the bench.

and before you could deliver your next scathing comeback, rafe came in, setting down his barbell with a clang. "i’ll drive her," he offered, shrugging casually as he wiped his hands on a nearby towel. "it’s too cold for a bike ride, and she looks like she’s about to bite your head off, dude."

truth be told, you’d always kind of liked rafe cameron growing up. unlike most of topper’s other friends, who barely acknowledged your existence, rafe was the one who always made an effort to be friendly. he’d always greet you when he came over, ask how school was going, and sometimes even share a laugh at topper’s expense with you.

and then there was that one memorable time, back during the ninth-grade, when you’d gotten stood up for your first high school dance. you’d spent weeks picking out the perfect dress, building up the courage to say yes when a boy you liked asked you to go. but when the night came, he’d never shown up. you had sat on the couch, trying to hide your disappointment as topper and his friends teased you about your "special night".

rafe had been different, though. he’d walked into the room, taken one look at you sitting there all dressed up, and without missing a beat, said, "i’ll take you." you’d blinked at him in response, a little stunned. "what?"

"i’ll take you to the dance," he repeated, a faint grin on his face as he shrugged. "you’ve already got the dress and everything, right? might as well go."

topper had rolled his eyes and laughed, but rafe had ignored him. twenty minutes later, he was in a suit jacket, standing by the front door, waiting for you like a proper date.

that night, he made sure you didn’t feel out of place, even though you were nervous and embarrassed at first. he’d danced with you, cracked jokes until you were smiling, and even pretended to be your date when your friends asked questions.

when the night had finally wound down, rafe hadn’t dropped you off and gone home like anyone else would. he’d offered to take you out for a late-night snack. so, the two of you had ended up at a diner near the city, picking at plates of fries and sharing stories while the neon lights flickered outside. and for a brief moment, it made you forget all the times you felt like an afterthought in your family, while your older brother was the center of attention.

that night had turned into one of those memories that stuck with you dearly. and though rafe was still the same cocky, laid-back guy, he had an empathy that maybe only you saw. and by the way, your older brother made the decision to gather himself and his friends, including rafe, to "confront" that same boy who stood you up.

topper groaned, rolling his eyes. "fine. go, whatever. just let me and kelce finish our workout in peace."

luckily, rafe was already grabbing his keys.

"c’mon," he said, his voice low but firm. "i could use the break anyway."

as you climbed into rafe’s car, you glanced around the messy interior: empty water bottles, a stray jacket, and a faint scent of mint and cologne. he turned down the music as he started the engine, his movements smooth and unhurried.

"you okay?" he asked, glancing over at you as the car warmed up along with the slightly loud noises of the air conditioning. his tone was casual, but there was an edge of sincerity in it that comforted you. "yes," you muttered. "thanks for this."

he smirked, his eyes briefly meeting yours. "don’t thank me yet. topper for sure owes me for this one."

you couldn’t help but laugh a little, the tension from earlier melting enough to make the ride bearable.

as rafe pulled into the familiar parking lot, you realized where he was taking you: the same diner you’d gone to after the dance. the neon lights flickered outside, casting a soft glow across the empty lot. a wave of nostalgia hit you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the memory of that night.

inside, the warmth of the diner greeted you, and the smell of greasy fries and fresh burgers filled the air. you both slid into a booth, and rafe didn’t waste any time before he ordered. you hesitated, but eventually chose something simple, the kind of comfort food you knew would hit the spot.

"you know, this place actually isn’t half bad," rafe said as he looked over at you, his voice light. he gave you a quick smile before shrugging.

you laughed, feeling a little lighter. "it's actually really good!"

as the food arrived, rafe handed you his jacket, noticing you shiver. "here, you look like you could use it." you blinked in surprise, but his easy, nonchalant gesture made it feel completely natural. you draped it over your shoulders, grateful for the warmth.

the ride back home was quiet, the sound of the car humming as you leaned back against the seat. the warmth from the jacket and the full stomach made your eyelids heavy, and before long, you were drifting off, your head lolling against the window.

when the car finally stopped, you felt a gentle nudge on your shoulder. "hey," rafe said softly, "we’re here."

you blinked awake, your body delaying to respond. you looked like a complete mess with a little drool coming out and your hair bunched up, but he didn’t say anything. instead, he gently slid the seat back, helping you out of the car.

before you could protest, he had already scooped you up into his arms, carrying you with surprising ease toward the front door.

"rafe, what the....?" you mumbled, still half-asleep and confused, but he didn’t answer. he just chuckled quietly and continued up the stairs to your room. when he set you down on your bed, he tucked the blanket around you, his movements careful as if he were trying not to wake you completely.

"get some sleep y/n," he said softly, pausing at the door. "you’ll need it."

your eyes fluttered closed again, the warmth of your bed and the comfort of rafe’s care wrapping around you. you barely registered when the door shut, but you knew, even if you couldn’t thank him properly, he’d done something more than just drop you off.

you felt a sudden tug at your shoulders, and your eyes slowly blinked open to find your older brother standing over you, shaking you awake.

"oh my god, what do you want, topper?!" you groaned, trying to push the blankets over your head in a futile attempt to block out the morning.

"it's 10 am y/n," he said, his voice more annoying than usual, "you remember breakfast with our grandparents, right?"

you blinked a few times, still trying to shake off the fog of sleep. the memory gradually crept back into your mind, and you groaned again, this time more out of frustration than sleepiness.

"ugh, i forgot about that," you muttered, rubbing your eyes and sitting up. "why did you have to remind me? it's too early for this."

topper shrugged, unfazed by your groggy attitude. "because mom wants us there by 11, and you know how she gets when we’re late. i also know you take forever to get ready and clearly, you're not even close to ready."

you shot him a glare, already thinking about how this day was shaping up to be like every other which was full of reminders about family obligations. "fine," you grumbled, throwing off the covers and getting out of bed. "i’ll go. but this better be worth it."

"no wonder you're so tired," he said, clearly annoyed. "i bet staying out late with rafe last night did you in, huh?"

you groaned, sitting up a little, now fully aware of the teasing tone in his voice. "it wasn’t that late," you mumbled, trying to sound convincing, but you knew he wouldn’t let it slide. "and maybe if you didn't eat my food, i would've slept at a decent time. and your friend actually had the decency to help me get that food back."

topper raised an eyebrow. "sure..." he paused and gave you a concerned look.

"and i’m not exhausted because of that, topper," you snapped, rubbing your face. "i’m just exhausted because you woke me up too early."

he let out a little laugh, walking toward the door. he shot you a teasing grin before he left. "you know, if you didn't stay up snacking with him, maybe you wouldn't be like this right now."

"you’re a pain in the ass," you muttered under your breath as he disappeared, but you couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped. you knew he was just being his usual protective yet controlling self, and maybe, just maybe, there was a hint of concern underneath the teasing regarding his friend's relationship with his little sister.

you heard the door suddenly open again, with topper lingering by the hinge, his hand hovering over the handle. "by the way," he said, his tone still calm, "we go in thirty minutes. so be ready and at the car."

"i got it," you grumbled, not looking up from where you were half-draped over your bed.

topper didn’t wait for a response. he just turned and walked out, leaving the door wide open.

"topper, are you serious?!" you called after him, your frustration mounting. "close my door!"

but of course, he didn’t. typical of him.

you sighed in annoyance, getting up to close the door yourself. and with the door finally shut, you hurried to get ready. you took a deep breath, grabbing your belongings and heading downstairs, ready to face whatever the day had in store.

[twistedpink]

Mc inserts x TWST characters pt.2 (OG post) (Pt.3)

(non-yuu pairings that fit into the plot of twst, if you like this then you might want to look at the first part!)

Savanclaw!Mc x Cater Diamond

Enemies to lovers with your favourite diva!! The two of you compete constantly through magicam and spelldrive, getting progressively pettier until the only solution is to kiss it out.. You’re trying to keep an ear out for your junior, and it just so happens Cater’s sniffing out your plan to go for gold in this year’s tournament. You might as well take the chance to mess with him! It’s so easy to love the face he makes when you give him the slip, and you’re totally making it your wallpaper when this is all over.

“Yo, Babe! If you’re in the same dorm, then you know Ruggie, yeah? We need to have a chat”

“Ohmigod you totally think all beastmen know each other, don’t you?? cancled :)”

Shroud!Mc x Vil Schoenheit

Ids attached himself to engineering and gaming pretty early, but your passion is fully unattainable. You’d clung onto pop idols and the art of stage makeup from an early age. Your longest running interest by far is Vil Schoenheit,, He rescued you from destructive habits and encouraged you to value self improvement. You’ve probably invested millions into his career (every thaumark sent anonymously, you’d die if he started to recognize your attached messages). Supporting Ortho in his SDC audition is your official reason to talk with him, and all the teasing from Idia will be so worth it when your Schoenheit debut palette gets signed! You’ve kept it in mint condition behind glass for years admiring it- and waiting for THE day.

“Mr. Schoenheit? My younger brother performed for you today, and uh, your signature please?”

“Normally I’d send both of you home for this. I’m sure you’re well aware of my paparazzi policy, However, I haven’t seen this particular relic in years! Just what have you done to preserve the quality?”

Pomefiore!Mc x Ruggie Bucchi

You’re #1 in the business of pissing off your parents- shopping copious amounts and then going to school across the country satiated you for awhile, but they’ve done something particularly revenge worthy now. The best scandal you can think of is getting a trashy boytoy to bring home for the break, but you’re not really into idiots.. Ruggie can be a very good actor given the right motivations, and he might even fool you into a real relationship before next semester.

“C’mon it’s not like I’ll need a script, sugar. I’m a natural, scout’s honor!”

“Either way, it won’t hurt to rehearse for convenience :/ Kiss me now so we don’t look stupid later.”

Scarabia!Mc x Floyd leech

God you hate that fish faced idiot >:( It’s bad enough that the housewarden’s moodswings guaranteed your holiday plans were all shot, but now Jamil’s getting hounded by the mafia! It’s your responsibility to get them off his back, but it’s not like you’re enjoying it. Somehow it’s even worse to watch Floyd when he’s playing dumb, and his emotional roller coaster keeps you walking on eggshells. The show must go on though, and if you’ve gotta play “wrestle until the biting stops” then you’ll do it :/

“Floyd, it’s dinner time, and I will tear you a new one if it means you’ll get moving.”

“PLEASEEEE tiger sharky just one more round :( I’ll even give your pen back!!”

Octavinelle!Mc x Kalim Al-Asim

You’re probably one of the most talkative of octavinelle students, and definitely a solid salesman. Kalim’s a prime target for resales and marketing practice, so naturally you join the pop music club. A year of “playing nice for the jackpot” leads you to lie awake at night, terrified that he’ll see through your facade and ditch you- it would cut off your best friendship, you’d be forced to leave the club! At some point you realize you’d stopped selling him things months ago, and your worst nightmare happened right under your nose. You fell in love.

“Hey, that solo was so inspiring! You’re really making progress!”

“It still isn’t on par with yours, though. Are you available to keep practicing after school? I’m sure Jamil would appreciate the break, and I would enjoy the company..”

Staff!Mc x Lilia Vanrouge

Of course your first job would come with some pet bat, it was too good to be true :( Full time at a bits and bobs shop near one of the best schools in the country WITH flexible hours? You must’ve been desperate to accept without reading about your babysitting in the footnote. He comes in everyday during your shift (regardless of the hours you take, it’s like he has a sixth sense), and has the audacity to exist in your space! It’s not like he even does anything to get banned!! He just stands there. Menacingly. You’re waiting for the day where he leaves convincing evidence that he’s there to traffic you or something- because if you didn’t know better you’d think he has a big, fat crush on you.

“Darling, how is the shop? I’ve taken care of those juvenile delinquents for you!”

“Taken care of? Whatever. Get back to class, kid.”

[d-z20]

Extra Credit part 2 (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: So the sex with your student's guardian turned out to be more than a one-time-thing and after not responding to a text from Agatha, she finds you before school the next day deciding to take matters into her own hands... no matter who could find you

-OR-

She fucks you in a supply closet before school starts

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, Agatha's a MILF, semi-publicish sex, almost getting caught, smidge of praise, fingering (R recv)

Words: 1.6k

A/N: Just a quick little something before the weekend starts :) There is use of Mx as an honorific which it's pronounced 'mix' or 'mux' depending on ya accent

AO3 | Part 1 | Masterlist

The thing about secret flings is that they demand discretion. And the thing about Agatha Harkness is that she doesn’t give a damn about discretion.

Which is exactly why you find yourself pinned against the supply closet door, barely holding in a gasp as her lips press insistently against your throat.

“Agatha,” you hiss, hands gripping her shoulders, half to push her away, half to keep yourself standing. “We are in a school.”

“And?” she murmurs against your skin, her voice dripping with amusement. “You think this is the first time an inappropriate affair has taken place in these hallowed halls?”

You groan, pressing a hand against her chest to create some distance—only for her to grab your wrist and pin it beside your head. “You’re terrible.”

“You like that about me.”

You wish she were wrong. You wish you could push her away; ignore the fire curling in your stomach. But every time she touches you or teases you, you're undone all over again—helpless against the force of her.

It started as a mistake. Well, maybe not a mistake—mistakes implied regret, and you weren’t sure you regretted anything that had happened that night in her kitchen. What had begun as a harmless parent-teacher conference had escalated into something far more salacious the moment she cornered you against your desk, her dark eyes glinting with challenge. And since then, Agatha had made it her personal mission to find new and exciting ways to make you weak in the knees—especially in situations where it was wildly inappropriate.

Like now, for instance.

Twenty minutes earlier, you had barely managed to slip into your classroom before she appeared behind you, her hands already on your waist, her lips at your ear.

“You left me waiting this morning,” she murmured, her voice low and syrupy, though laced with feigned offence. “That’s terribly rude of you, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched, but before you could even begin to question what she meant, she was already moving, her fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles against your hips.

“W-waiting?” You echoed, cursing yourself for how easily she could make you stumble over something as simple as a word.

Agatha hummed, her breath warm against the sensitive spot beneath your ear. “Mhm. I sent you a message last night, darling.” Her tone was light, teasing—but the pressure of her hands suggested she wasn’t above making you pay for your oversight. “Something deliciously sinful, if I do say so myself.”

Your stomach dropped. Oh god. You had seen the text.

It had popped up sometime around midnight, and you’d stupidly glanced at the preview—just enough to make out a few wickedly suggestive words that left you blushing in the dark. But instead of responding, you’d panicked, tossed your phone aside, and buried your face in your pillow, hoping sleep would erase the heat pooling in your stomach.

Apparently, Agatha had noticed your silence.

“I figured you’d wake up eager to... respond,” she went on, one hand drifting just beneath the hem of your top, her fingers skimming the bare skin of your stomach. “And yet, I had to drink my morning coffee alone.” She sighed dramatically, as if the slight were truly unforgivable. “No text. No call. Not even an apology.”

You swallowed hard. “I—I was busy!”

She chuckled, finally pulling back just enough for you to turn and face her. Her expression was unreadable at first, but her dark eyes glittered with amusement. “Were you?” she mused, tilting her head as though considering your excuse. “Or were you just being a tease?”

“I wasn’t—I mean, I didn’t mean to—”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she interrupted, shaking her head with mock disappointment. “You know what happens to naughty little things who ignore me, don’t you?”

The words sent a shiver straight down your spine. You opened your mouth to protest—whether to deny, to plead, or to offer some pathetic excuse, you weren’t sure—but Agatha was already on the move.

And before you could so much as protest, she had manoeuvred you into the nearest supply closet and shut the door behind her. So here you are in this very compromising situation with her lips on your neck and her hands on your waist.

“Agatha,” you try again, your voice more breathless than stern. “I have students coming in twenty minutes.”

Her smirk deepens, fingers trailing down to the waistband of your pants, her touch featherlight. "Well, I suppose I’ll have to be quick.”

You shiver, your head falling back against the door as she leans in, her lips brushing against your jaw. “You are insatiable.”

She hums in agreement, her mouth trailing lower, and her hand dipping into your pants.

A sharp inhale catches in your throat as her fingers push past the fabric, trailing slow, agonising circles over fevered skin. Your muscles tense, a quiet tremor rolling through you, anticipation warring with restraint. She moves with infuriating ease, fingers slipping between your thighs like she already knows exactly how to unravel you. And maybe she does, considering the way your breath stutters, your knees threatening to give way beneath you.

“You’re already this wet for me?” She berates, her voice thick with amusement, her fingers making light work of you. “How very inappropriate, Mx. Y/L/N.”

You bite your lip, your hands clutching at her coat in some desperate attempt to keep yourself upright as her fingers work you open, dragging pleasure from you with infuriating precision. Your mind is struggling—grasping at some semblance of rational thought, but all you can focus on is her touch, the way her fingers curl inside you, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge.

Somewhere in the fog of your pleasure, a fleeting thought breaks through. “D-don’t you have to be somewhere?” You manage, your voice barely above a whimper. “Work or—oh, fuck—something?”

Agatha chuckles against your skin, her breath hot against your throat. “You’re adorable when you try to be responsible,” she murmurs.

Before you can retort—before you can even think—someone speaks from the hallway.

“Mx. Y/L/N?”

The doorknob rattles—once, then again. Every muscle in your body locks, breath frozen in your throat. Agatha, the menace, merely smirks, fingers still moving, as if daring you to crack under the pressure.

It’s one of your colleagues; their voice muffled through the door but far too close for comfort. Agatha, to her credit, barely seems perturbed. If anything, she looks entertained, her head tilting as she watches you with sharp amusement.

You slap a hand over her mouth before she can make this any worse. However, her fingers keep moving, pumping in and out of you, slow and deliberate, forcing you to bite back the pathetic whimper that threatens to escape.

“I—yes?” You call out, praying your voice sounds normal.

“Do you have any extra curriculum outlines for the staff meeting? Principal Carter needs a few more copies.”

Staff meeting. Right. The one you’re currently missing because you’re too busy being manhandled by an absurdly attractive single mom.

“Uh, yeah! Just—just give me a second, I’ll bring them right out!”

There’s a pause. You can practically hear your colleague frowning. “Are you okay in there?”

Agatha takes the opportunity to gently pry your hand from her mouth, bringing it to her lips and pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your knuckles. “You’re doing so well,” she praises, her voice dripping with dark amusement. “But I think you can be a little quieter, don’t you?”

You glare at her, but it’s a feeble effort considering the way your entire body is trembling, pleasure tightening in your core with every agonising stroke of her fingers.

“Yes! Just—just organising some things!” you reply, forcing out a laugh that hopefully doesn’t sound as wrecked as you feel.

A beat of silence. Then, mercifully, footsteps retreat down the hall.

You exhale in relief, your body sagging against Agatha’s. She, of course, is grinning like the devil himself.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” you mutter, only to be cut off by a moan when she thrusts her fingers particularly deeply, the pleasure sharp and devastating.

She tilts her head, her free hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer. “Am I?”

“You almost got me fired!”

She chuckles, her fingers still coaxing you toward the inevitable. “Sweetheart, if you think that’s enough to get you fired, you clearly underestimate how much your principal hates paperwork.”

The words barely register because, in that moment, your orgasm crests—high and all-consuming—your body shuddering against her as waves of bliss flood through you.

She holds you through it, her touch never leaving, fingers easing you down gently as you gasp into her shoulder, your legs still trembling.

You sigh, already resigning yourself to the fact that you’re going to have to sprint to the staff meeting and pretend like you hadn’t just been ruined against a shelf full of printer paper.

Agatha leans in one last time, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips before finally, mercifully, stepping back. “I suppose I’ll let you get back to work,” she says, far too smug for your liking.

You smooth your hands down your clothes, clearing your throat. “You are impossible.”

She winks. “And you love it.”

You don’t dignify that with an answer—mostly because she’s right. Again.

As she slips out of the closet and disappears down the hallway, you let out a slow breath, shaking your head.

This woman is going to be the death of you.

-----

it seems I write getting fucked in a supply closet quite frequently 😂 don't ask me how she went to the school without raising suspicions from Billy because I don't know, if I did I would've written it 😭😂

-----

taglist: @aceday @danveration @alwaysharmony @idkwhatever580 @lostbutlovely33 @sweetmidnights @6ange19 @jujuu23 @juls-stark

[carlos-in-glasses]

Rhythms

124k, 17 chapters, E, complete and on Ao3.

TK swoons when he discovers a sentimental scrapbook full of notes he and Carlos have left for each other – but he also unearths a book of poems that closeted teen-Carlos wrote about his struggles, including a few dedicated to his high school crush. An adorably mortified Carlos recalls the stir he caused when he was published anonymously in the high school paper, and everything he went through to write his wedding vows for TK years later. With TK as a hype-man, maybe Carlos can embrace his creative side again.

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1 - Love Heart: The day after TK and Carlos’ first wedding anniversary, TK is sent home from work sick. Back at the loft unexpectedly, he makes a surprising discovery about Carlos.

Chapter 2 - Club Can't Handle Me: In 2011, sixteen-year-old Carlos is both in the closet and in his high school’s wrestling team – and it’s all a bit too much. Perhaps against his better judgment, he turns to poetry and makes a decision that will change his life.

Chapter 3 - Crossroads: Daydreaming about his wedding vows mid-drive, Carlos gets pulled over for a traffic violation – and Gabriel isn’t happy. Reunited with TK, Carlos might be lost for words, but he finds another way to express his love and desire.

Chapter 4 - The Wrestler: Carlos’ poems are published – and he quickly learns there’s no putting the genie back into the bottle.

Chapter 5 - A Gay Fantasia: In the aftermath of being abducted by a serial killer, Carlos reflects on recent events and resumes work on his wedding vows.

Chapter 6 - La Tormenta: Carlos is devastated when Scott gets a girlfriend, and he finds himself in another snowballing situation.

Chapter 7 - Soulmates: When TK has a Huntington’s disease scare, Carlos finds he knows exactly what to say. But will it help him with his writer’s block when it comes to his wedding vows?

Chapter 8 - Man of Mystery: It’s the day of the Lake View High School Talent Show – and will the real Shadow Poet please stand up?

Chapter 9 - Crush: In 2011, it’s make or break for sixteen year old Carlos at the talent show. In 2024, TK becomes the hype man Carlos had needed over a decade ago.

Chapter 10 - From Behind: A couple of weeks before the wedding, Carlos is still working on his vows when a deeper rift develops between him and his dad. In 2012, seventeen year-old Carlos is spiraling after coming out to his parents.

Chapter 11 - The Other Wrestler: TK decides to lift Carlos’ spirits by learning how to wrestle.

Chapter 12 - Carlos Reyes Will Be Okay: At Gabriel’s funeral, Carlos regrets saying no to reading a poem in tribute – but during the wake, he finds himself under a whole new pressure. Later that night, he realizes the vows he’s worked so hard on for TK cannot be spoken yet.

Chapter 13 - The Closet: Despite some good news, Carlos ends up in the doghouse with his mom and with TK.

Chapter 14 - Once in a Blue Moon: Reeling from his confrontation with Andrea, Carlos seeks advice and admits a secret.

Chapter 15 - Raining on Prom Night: In May 2012, chaos erupts at Carlos’ senior prom.

Chapter 16 - Tyler Kennedy Strand: The wedding day arrives, and Carlos finally gets to recite his vows to TK.

Chapter 17 - Shadow Poet: Carlos attends his poetry reading with TK by his side and some important people in the audience – but will he actually perform this time?

“I was just remembering–” Carlos says, “The first time you stayed for a while after one of our hookups. It was, like, the third time we hooked up, I think. I asked if you wanted tea and cookies and you looked at me like I’d said the weirdest thing ever.”

TK’s exhausted, puffy face breaks into a dazzling grin. “You were being such a Boy Scout.”

“But then you said yes and you ate half the cookie jar.”

“You called me the Cookie Monster.”

“That was the first time I really made you laugh.”

“Tea came out my nose.”

“It was beautiful,” Carlos says, pausing then to qualify: “Your laugh.”

TK gazes up at him, his clear green eyes large and shining. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“The first time you made me laugh was when we were dancing at the honky-tonk.”

“Hey!” TK swats his arm. “I was trying my best!”

“You were so goofy,” Carlos chides. “I just loved it. I loved you.”

Read on Ao3

[writingwithciara]

in the chaos, i have you -jamie drysdale-

summary: y/n and trevor are the most chaotic best friends & poor jamie has to be the level headed one when it comes to his girlfriend and his best friend

word count: 1.9k

pairings: jamie drysdale x reader, trevor zegras x platonic best friend reader

notes: this idea was sent in to me on my main blog as like, a blurb idea, but i wanted to create a whole fic centered on this. i'm sure someone else already has, but it's a good concept.

masterlist

y/n and trevor were inseparable when they met at the ripe old age of 9.

it was at a summer camp that y/n had been attending for 2 years and it was trevor's first summer there. she introduced herself when she saw him and they were the best of friends from that point forward.

the only bad thing about their friendship was the amount of chaos that followed them. if one of them got in trouble for something, the other was not far behind.

when camp was finished for the summer and they both went home, they were delighted to find out that y/n had moved to new york and was attending the same school as trevor.

they stuck together whenever they could and everyone that knew them had always assumed, naturally, that they’d end up together.

that is until trevor began to play for the nhl and had to move all the way to california. y/n had to stay behind with her parents while she finished school.

but as soon as she graduated, she headed right down to anaheim and secured a position working with the anaheim ducks.

when trevor saw her again in person for the first time, he abandoned his conversation with jamie and ran to hug her. he wrapped his arms around the girl tightly and smiled when she giggled.

“trev, put me down.” she smiled and looked at the boy standing behind her friend. “hi.” she greeted him shyly.

“hi.”

“oh. jamie, this is y/n. she’s my best friend from back home. y/n, this is jamie. he’s my best friend on the team.”

“it’s nice to finally put a face to the name. trevor talks about you all the time.” jamie smiles and shook her hand.

“does he?” she raised an eyebrow and looked at trevor.

“we have so many incredible stories and i felt that he needed to hear them.”

“okay fair enough.” she turned towards jamie. “we were pretty crazy back home.”

“there’s nothing wrong with a little crazy.” jamie chuckled. “i gotta run but it was nice meeting you.”

“you too. bye jamie.” y/n waved and watched him leave the arena. she walked with trevor to his car.

“need a ride somewhere?”

“if you don’t mind.” she climbed into the passenger seat and trevor drove her to her apartment. when they found out they were living in the same building, they were both excited.

so much chaos was about to ensue.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

the first few weeks in anaheim were stressful for y/n and she had managed to take her frustrations out on trevor. someone she had never expected to be angry at.

but her sudden outburst at him before a game had caused the only argument in their friendship, leading to her being stranded at the arena when the game was over.

she tried calling him to apologize, hoping he’d pick her up. but after 17 failed attempts and a text that was left on read, she tossed her phone in her purse.

she was exhausted and her apartment was a long walk from the arena. to add insult to injury, it was unusually cold for an anaheim fall day and y/n had not grabbed her jacket before she left the apartment so she was screwed.

she threw her purse over her shoulder and grabbed her phone, inserting her headphones in & preparing herself for the long walk ahead. just as she was about to walk out the front doors of the arena, she felt a hand grab her shoulder and spin her around. her first instinct was to hit the person who grabbed her.

“ouch.” jamie muttered while grabbing his shoulder.

y/n’s eyes widened when she saw jamie in front of her. she took her headphones out of her ears and smiled apologetically. “i am so sorry, jamie.”

“don’t apologize. i’m the one who scared you.” he returned the smile. “i couldn’t help but notice that trevor left already and i was wondering if you’d like a ride home.”

“i would appreciate it, but isn’t your apartment the complete opposite way?”

“yeah it is. but you look like you’ve had a rough day and it’s fairly cold outside. plus it’s a long walk so i feel like you could use something good tonight.”

“thanks, jamie.” she put her phone and headphones into her purse and followed jamie to his car. he held the door as she got into her seat and buckled herself in.

for most of the drive, it was silent. neither of them wanted to speak, in fear of saying something stupid. that is until jamie decided to speak up.

“so you and trevor...you guys aren’t....together, are you?”

“me and trev? god no. i wouldn’t be able to handle being with him.” y/n smiled. “why do you ask?”

“because the way he talked about you before. it was like he thought you hung the moon and the stars or something. i don’t know.” jamie shrugged and turned onto her street. “it’s a good thing you guys aren’t dating.”

“oh really? and why’s that?”

“because i wanted to ask you to dinner on friday.” he parked the car and looked over at the girl.

“okay. that sounds like fun.”

“awesome. um, we have practice until 3:30 but i can pick you up around 6, if that’s okay.”

“that’s perfect.” y/n unbuckled herself and reached for the door handle. before she exited the vehicle, she turned to jamie and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“what was that for?” he couldn’t help that his cheeks were turning a deep crimson shade.

“thank you for the ride home.” she got out of the car but before she closed the door, she smiled. “i can’t wait for our date on friday.”

jamie watched her disappear into the building. his hand reached up to the spot her lips were and he smiled. he couldn’t wait until friday.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

the date went great and after a few more dates, it wasn’t long before they became an official couple. reporters and paparazzi were calling them the ‘sweetest couple in the nhl’ & it was a moniker that y/n and jamie embraced with pride.

he enjoyed the fact that his fans loved her, simply because since their relationship became public, he had scored at least one goal in every game.

y/n made up with trevor the night after their fight and he assured her it wasn’t that serious. so when she and jamie told him about their relationship, he was excited. his two best friends were together. it was something he had wanted way before they met.

the three of them were inseparable.

but that only meant that jamie had to be the level-headed one because y/n and trevor would constantly pull pranks on everyone around them, him included.

when one prank got a little out of hand at a team banquet, jamie sat them both down and had to go full ‘dad mode’ on them.

“do i have to separate you guys or something? because what the hell was that you just tried pulling on mason?”

“it was a harmless prank, babe. believe me.” y/n looked at him and blinked as if she was an innocent child.

“you better hope he feels the same way about it or else i’ll have to seriously put an end to whatever you’re currently planning.” he sighed and put his hands on his hips. “do you understand?”

“yes dad.” they both groaned.

“okay good. now, trevor, go apologize to mason.”

“but it was y/n’s idea.”

“oh she’ll be apologizing after i talk to her. now go, please.”

“fine.” trevor walked towards mason and engaged in a conversation. jamie turned to y/n and shook his head.

“i know you guys were chaotic but i didn’t think it was gonna be this bad.”

“i’m sorry, okay? they’re never supposed to get out of hand. but it happens and i can’t control it.” she sighed and rested her hand on his shoulder. “from now on, i promise to keep the pranks to a minimum. and if it helps, i’ll take you off the list of victims we have.”

“okay. just try to behave for the rest of the night. that’s all i ask.”

“yes sir.” she winked and went over to mason to apologize. jamie looked around the room.

the damage from the prank wasn’t as bad as he had initially thought.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“trevor, are you serious? i thought we had a deal.” jamie sighed and looked at his shirt. it was now stained with blue paint, courtesy of a prank trevor was pulling.

“it wasn’t meant for you, i swear.”

“who was it meant for?”

“hey guys. sorry i’m late. i just-“ y/n stopped in her tracks when she caught sight of jamie. “what the hell happened to you?”

“i was trying to pull a prank on you but jamie was the unfortunate one who walked into the living room. i thought it was going to be you. i thought i had timed it perfectly.”

“you’re an idiot.” y/n smiled affectionately and turned to jamie. “i’m so sorry, my love.”

“it’s not your fault. but the prank war between you guys needs to stop. it’s been going on too long.”

“it has not.” trevor butted in.

“3 months, trev. i’m so afraid to walk throughout the house,not knowing what’s going to hit me when i turn a corner or what’s gonna get spilled on me.”

“i’m sorry.”

“if you’re sorry, you’ll keep me out of the pranks. okay?”

“okay fine. we’ll be more careful then.”

“that’s all i ask.” jamie smiled. “i gotta go shower to get this paint off me.”

“coincidentally, i was planning on hopping in the shower when i got home. care to join me?” y/n smirked and headed towards the bathroom. jamie was quick to follow, leaving trevor to clean up the mess by himself.

“oh gross, guys.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

y/n waited in her apartment patiently for jamie and trevor to return from practice. they were all supposed to be having a movie night but the boys were running late.

she checked her phone to see if either of them had called or tried to contact her in any way, but there was nothing.

a knock on the door 20 minutes later startled her. she went to open it and was met with two pies in the face. jamie and trevor walked into the apartment laughing.

y/n wanted to be angry but seeing how happy jamie was made her heart feel full.

"i'm sorry, babe. but i wanted to try a little prank. nothing too chaotic." he took a look at her as she wiped her face off. "you're not mad, are you?"

"no. but only because i see how much you enjoyed doing this. i'm so proud."

"right? i feel like such a proud father." trevor wiped the tears from his eyes and smiled. "glad you decided pranks were fun."

"i'll admit that they're fun when i'm not on the receiving end of one. and although i enjoyed this, i don't think i'm the kind of person who wants to do this all the time. but if you guys can make a promise to keep me out of your pranks, i won't be upset when you cause chaos elsewhere."

"okay. i promise." y/n and trevor looked at each other and smiled.

"okay perfect." jamie clapped his hands together and smiled. "now, who's ready for movie night?"

as jamie entered the living room, y/n and trevor shared a look that meant they had plans for more jamie-centered pranks, even if they had just promised to not involve him anymore.

turns out, they both had their fingers crossed behind their backs when they made that promise.

poor jamie had no idea what he was in for.

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 3

I'm living for the love for this story!! Thank you everyone!

I'm sorry to say that any requests to be added to the tag list will be ignored. It's all full up! But! You can follow me and put on notifications. That seems to work for most people!

In this we have a lot of growing pains and the girls try everything they can think of to keep Eddie home.

Part 1 Part 2

~

The next couple of days were spent ironing out of the kinks and setting expectations. Like when Steve scolded Janice for pulling on Joan’s braids and she yelled back that she wasn’t the boss of her.

Both girls went running to their dad.

Eddie looked down at his two little sun spots. “I don’t know why you’re coming to me about this, if Steve saw Jannie pulling Joanie’s hair, then he had every right to call it out. Just like Chrissy, just your uncles. He is in charge while I’m gone, so you better get used to his authority. Both of you girls go sit on your time out chairs for five minutes.”

Both girls gasped in shock, but after an intense showdown, they did as they were told.

“Thanks for that,” Steve said with a huff. “There’s always a little bit of give and take for first couple of weeks, and you laying down the law will really help that.”

Eddie smiled up at him. “It’s just been a tough year for them both. They’re old enough to remember Ethan, but young enough that it’s all the good and none of the bad. So they don’t understand why he left. I’ve been talking to a couple of therapists that think once they’re a little older, they want to start seeing both girls.”

“Nothing quite as traumatic as abandonment issues from an early age,” Steve said with a nod.

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Sounds like you’re talking from experience.”

Steve sat down on the sofa with a sigh. “Unfortunately, yes. Only my parents did just enough to make sure I wasn’t taken away from them. Making sure their trips would only last long enough that it would be considered child abandonment and endangerment. Sending me gifts for my birthday and Christmas, but not being there.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Then as I got into high school, sending me money for groceries and gas. As well as a hefty allowance to make sure that I wouldn’t talk. ‘Let’ me throw lavish parties and then ground me when they found out. Only they would pack up and leave, knowing I’d ignore the grounding because they were gone. Just a bunch of stupid shit like that.”

Eddie’s expression softened. “In the Hall of Fame of shitty parents, that’s really up there, man.”

Steve let out a huff of bitter laughter. “I got the last laugh though. The second I turned eighteen and finished school, I told them I was running away with my best friend and joining the circus. Then I told them I was bisexual and never looked back.”

“So how was the circus?” Eddie asked with a grin.

“Not as fun as you’d expect,” Steve conceded. “Robin and I didn’t have anything like skills to be a performer, and wasn’t experienced in running the booths and rides, so we were part of the put up and take down crew.”

“So how did the nanny thing come about?” Eddie asked, crossing his legs and leaning his elbow on the arm of the chair.

“I used to babysit these kids when I was younger,” Steve said, putting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together, “and when the one’s dad died and left a hefty life insurance to his mom. She suddenly was overwhelmed and hired me to nanny for her.”

Eddie thought back to the resumé the agency had sent over. “Mrs. Henderson, right?”

“That’s the one,” Steve leaned back on the sofa. “Dustin was a good kid. Too smart and arrogant for his own good.”

“Then of course, Mrs. Henderson recommended me to her friends,” Steve said. “One of them said they would only hire me through an agency. My ex-girlfriend happened to work at a nanny agency while she was going to school and offered to put in a good word for me.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “That was nice of an ex. I don’t know if I have any exes that would do the same for me.”

Steve just shrugged. “We didn’t exactly part on the best of terms either, but I used to babysit her younger siblings and knew how good I was. Nancy Wheeler is nothing but logical. She knew I would be good at it.”

“I spoke to a Nancy earlier,” Eddie said thoughtfully. “She really went to bat for you.”

“That’s Nance for ya,” Steve huffed. “Tenacious to a fault. This is her last semester at college and then she’s going to go to Emerson to get her journalism degree. She wanted to get her generals out of the way so she wasn’t paying out the ass for them.”

Eddie smiled. “Looks like I really lucked out then.”

“I guess you did,” Steve said softly. “I did too. Having you here these last couple of days have really helped out. They are still going to have the worst meltdowns during that first week you’re gone, but knowing you’ve already set the boundary they’ll only butt against it instead crossing it.”

Eddie smirked. “They’ve chased off nannies before. It’s why I have a very specific list of do’s and don’t’s with anyone I hire.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it,” Steve chuckled. “Normally, I’d put them to bed, but because it’s your last night with them, I’d suggest you do it.”

“Of course,” Eddie said softly. “Thank you for taking good care of them, Steve. I’m really grateful to be leaving them in such capable hands. I don’t want to go on this tour, not really. But I need a break. I love my girls, but with Ethan leaving it feels like he took away my right to chose how to live my life.”

Steve got up and moved to the desk and sat down on it half way. “But at least you have the money and the wherewithal to make sure they are taken care of. Every parent needs a break once in awhile. You’ll go out there make your fans happy and then when you come back, you’ll appreciate them all the more for leaving.”

Eddie looked up at him, then his eyes fluttered shut. He pursed his lips together and leaned his head back. He opened his eyes to look at him again. “You don’t think I’m being a bad parent?”

“It does you no good to burn yourself out,” Steve soothed. “It would do them more harm if you burned out and couldn’t take care of them anymore.”

“I love them so much,” Eddie said, his lower lip quivering. “But not having any help except Chrissy occasionally made it hard.” Tears trickled down his cheeks.

Steve pulled out a tissue and handed it to him. Eddie let out a watery chuckle. “You didn’t have anyone close that could help you?”

Eddie wiped his eyes and shook his head. “My former bandmates kinda scattered all over the globe. Gareth in Wales where his family is from, Jeff in New York, and Brian in LA. My uncle, Wayne broke his leg just after Ethan left and he’s just barely moving around without a cane. I couldn’t make him watch two rambunctious four year olds.”

He let out a shuddering breath and then another. “A lot of the nannies we had kept trying to be their mother. One was even caught trying to teach Joanie to call her Mama.”

“That’s rough,” Steve murmured. “But I’m here to help you. I’m not going to try and replace you as their dad. Or even Ethan, really. I’m just an extra person you can rely on.”

“You don’t mind setting up the household staff do you?” Eddie asked, his voice still rough from the crying. He blew his nose and then threw the tissue away in a nearby garbage. “It’s just that I want people that will work well with you and not try to fight you on every little thing.”

Steve shook his head. “No I get it. Plus getting help for a place as big as this one, I’d need the help otherwise I’d wear myself out before you got home.”

Eddie chuckled. “Do you like the house? Some of the other nannies thought it was creepy.”

“Mr. Muns–” Steve began but Eddie cut him off.

“Call me Eddie,” he said softly. “Mr. Munson makes me feel old and I’m not ready for that yet.”

“All right, Eddie,” Steve murmured back, “I think it’s spooky in a fun way. It’s not creepy. It’s beautifully decorated. I’ve seen creepy. Like tiger and elephant heads mounted on the walls with fully stuffed birds and in one horrifying case a Tasmanian wolf.”

“Aren’t those extinct?” Eddie asked with a grimace.

“Oh yeah,” Steve said, moving to sit on on the desk all the way, to put some distance between them. Before he did something stupid like kiss his boss. “I made sure to report his taxidermy to the Feds on the way out.”

“Brutal.”

“Dude was creep and his wife wasn’t much better,” Steve said with a shrug. “I felt sorry for their kids. They didn’t deserve having parents like those.”

“What made you leave?” Eddie asked, honestly curious on how Steve could have gone through so many clients considering he didn’t seem very old.

Steve kicked his feet a little, careful not to kick Eddie. “They aged out of needing one. They were already pre-teens when I got hired. They basically only needed someone to pick them up from school and make them dinner before their parents came home.”

“How long were you with them?” Eddie asked, more to keep Steve there then any real curiosity he had. Yeah, he had been curious about what made him leave, but this was blatant flirting at this point.

Steve laughed. “What’s this, more interview?” he teased. “No, in all seriousness, it was about a year. Most of my clients only need me temporarily anyway. I’m pretty sure that for at least three of them, their friends or family got to them about me being a guy, because they hired a female nanny soon after.”

“That’s bullshit,” Eddie huffed. “I’m sorry that they kept doing that to you. If anyone says anything to you, send them my direction. I’ll set them straight.”

“Thanks,” Steve murmured. He checked his watch. “It’s about time for me to make dinner.”

Eddie nodded and watched him leave. Once Steve had closed the door to his office behind him, Eddie put his head in his hands. It was so hard to keep his hands to himself when Steve was that close.

He just hoped that the three months he was going to be gone would be enough to put out the fire in his gut for his new nanny for fuck’s sake. He needed to get laid, Jesus fucking Christ!

The rest of the night passed with relative ease. Steve made meatloaf and garlic mashed potatoes with corn on the side.

Night time went well, too. Both girls drifting off to sleep quickly.

Morning, though? That was what was fraught with difficulties and tantrums.

Joan refused to get dressed, flopping on the floor and sobbing uncontrollably. Janice dumped her cereal on the floor, kicking and screaming like a toddler. Joan threw herself at the door while Janice tried to hide Eddie’s shoes.

Eddie stared Janice right in the eye as he pulled out another pair of shoes out of his carry-on. And then another out of his suitcase. He put the shoes back in the suitcase, but pulled on the shoes from his carry-on. All while Janice stood there with her jaw on the floor.

Steve pulled Joan away from the door so Eddie could open it and both girls started crying. Eddie hugged and kissed each girl goodbye.

Steve picked up both girls and held them up to the window so they could wave goodbye as Eddie drove off.

He set them down and they both flopped on the floor like ragdolls. He let them lay there for awhile, even taking advantage of Joan not moving to get her dressed. He put his hands on his hips it was going to be a long week. A very long week.

~

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @sadisticaltarts @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dolphincliffs @steddie-as-they-go @steddieislife

10- @kultiras @morallyundefined @ollieolive @themoonagainstmers @tartarusknight

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 161 (The Scoop of the Century!)

The Foxbury Club pulsed with the sounds of jazz and clinking champagne flutes, as well-dressed society types poured in and out of the roped-off doors.

Tonight's Simlandia Builders' Club gala brought the wealthy to Britechester - Simlandia's most famous families were considered the 'builders,' and this was their chance to pat one another on the back for all their society-building projects. This year, the Builders' Club was particularly proud of itself for the brand new, but spectacular, San Myshuno Bridge - a steel marvel, integral to helping the city recover from natural disasters that recently devastated the city.

"I read about San Myshuno's natural disasters in history class back in high school," said Lilith. "I know it's hard to believe, but I really think the story about the monster emerging from the sea is real."

Maude looked at her strangely. "Is that really the story that makes it through time? The whole city was cut off from the outside world and no one knows the truth. But monsters are just fairy tales."

Lilith was defiant. "And time travel was just science fiction. But they think the builders poured concrete into the monster's footprints to cover it up. There's a story you could research!"

Felix knew Maude would eventually make her career exposing Britechester's secret societies for everything from buying test scores to murder, and she seemed uninterested in trying to dig up concrete in San Myshuno. "Monster or not, now the builders' can say they brought the city back to life. That's what these galas are for every year."

"It does smell a bit like old money in here," chuckled Felix.

Maude glanced toward the stage, where saxophonist Miles Morrison entertained the crowds with his jazzy style. She hawkishly scanned the room, spotting a woman in a blue gown and stunning gold necklace chatting at a corner table with a man in a grey tuxedo and leather brimmed hat. The ambitious reporter gasped.

"That's Lady Ravendancer Goth and Admiral Landgraab! Rumour has it they've been having an affair for years. An anonymous tipster sent us a photo of the two of them on a beach, and they looked cozier than I've ever been with any man - even Berend! Certainly cozier than she's ever looked with her husband, and Admiral's marriage is just for show." Her big eyes burned with excitement. "My editor will have to put me on the front page if I catch them together tonight!"

"Lady Ravendancer? Isn't she a spellcaster? I didn't even know she was a real person!" said Lilith, glancing curiously in their direction.

"Most people think she's just eccentric, not a spellcaster. She released a book of spells and made a huge profit, but she doesn't need the money. She's married to Lord Samuel Goth, the founder of the Builders' Club, but he's a recluse, and she ends up hosting most of these events herself. Malcolm "Admiral" Landgraab went west to build up Simlandia and grab as much land as he could. Apparently he's out there looking for oil, using his family's money - and his wife's family's money - to build an even bigger empire."

"Sounds about right for a Landgraab," said Felix.

"Are they still wealthy and horrible in a century and a half?"

"Yes," Felix and Lilith replied in blunt unison. "Well, most of them," tempered Felix.

"Money can't buy class." Maude sighed. "I know my parents tried to make it look like it, but they were using money they didn't have to hold all those parties to find Mimsy and suitor. If I hadn't been so rebellious as a teenager, they'd have forced the same fate on me. And then maybe I'd have died in a fire set by my own husband, too."

Lilith frowned. "You really think her husband killed them both, just to have her for eternity?"

She nodded. "And if one day I can find her ghost, I'll prove it, just like I'm going to prove Lady Goth and Admiral Landgraab are having an affair."

Felix froze. The Goths and Landgraabs were well known in his day. He knew little about the necklace Heather and Spencer had seen in the jungle (and nothing of the photographs found hidden in the Goth Archives). But he did know the truth of Lady Ravendancer and Admiral Landgraab's affair was never made public and shifted nervously.

"You two stay here," said Maude. "Enjoy the music; I'm going to get my camera."

Unsure what to do, Felix danced with Lilith on the dance floor while Miles hummed his sax and singers stood before a golden microphone. Maude's large camera was an eyesore, but she told gala attendees she was taking snaps for the society pages, and no one noticed when she turned the camera toward two people who thought they'd found a quiet place inside the busy nightclub.

"If we let her publish those photos, she'll change history," said Lilith.

Felix nodded. "She'll hate us for trying to block another headline. But if I tell her she'll be fine without this story, she'll ask more questions."

Lilith sighed. "We've already told her enough to make Emit confiscate our time travel suits and the device. What if you just nudge her in the right direction, instead?"

"I think we have to try."

"Time travel is a lot less fun than it sounds," she lamented. "There's so many rules, and too much could go wrong."

"I'll always be happy enough in our own time," he said easily, spinning her out of their embrace. "The only reason I'm happy to be here is because you're with me."

Lilith smiled as Lady Ravendancer approached the stage. "Once we catch the time thief and get back, we can stay there. This adventure's been more than enough for me."

As expected, Maude was beside herself to hear this was yet another story she was not allowed to break. "Why am I even listening to you?" she cried. "I'm helping you and you're just standing in the way of the scoops of the century!"

"Maude, I swear to the Watcher, you don't need these stories," Felix insisted. "If you publish, you'll change the future. You might change Bruno's future, which might change Lilith's future, too." He could see his words softening her reaction and continued carefully. "I won't tell you what you write, but if you look into Britechester University's secret societies, you'll find the headlines that will make your career."

"Those secret societies are just a bunch of drunken goofballs!"

Lilith shrugged. "Maybe some, but how can you know there's nothing more to them if you don't look?"

"I still have work to do," Maude sneered. "When do you leave again? I hope it's soon."

"Hopefully Emit and the time thief arrive tomorrow morning."

"Good," she sniffed. "You should have never come back here."

"Yeah, we're starting to agree," admitted Lilith.

Having overstayed their welcome, Felix and Lilith headed back to the rooming house Maude helped them find, hoping to pass the night without further issue until Emit's arrival in the morning. They woke and Lilith dressed again in the inconspicuous white blouse and pleated skirt, heading to the commons outside the Laurel Library.

But when they arrived, they were surprised to find Maude waiting for them, instead. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

THANK YOU for putting up with this little spin-off from the main household for this long! I promise things happening now will mean a fair bit to the main timeline. And remember Ash who hasn't been seen since (checks notes?) March 10th? One more main fam-free post centred on Felix, the Pleasants and the Blast From the Past event is scheduled for Wednesday, and then Ash will be back on Friday, I promise! (please don't judge me if I break up Wednesday into two posts and Ash doesn't return until Sunday! I promise either Friday or Sunday but the event arc is concluding this week!)

NOTE: Is Miles Morrison just Malik Morrison with different hair and a saxophone? Why yes! Judge Morrison's great-grandfather Miles was a renowned musician who performed all over Simlandia at the height of the Jazz Age!

WCIF: That functional sax comes from Necrodog's Into Music Stuff Pack cc. Pretty cool, I like that it adds variety to the instruments you can have in game, with custom sounds (but no skill building). Both Lilith and Maude are wearing different swatches of @happylifesims' 1920s Evening Dress 03, and Lilith is wearing @magnolianfarewell's Adaline headband. (Same creator who made Lady Ravendancer's Venus dress!)

Felix and Lilith are posed on the dance floor with @simmerberlin's Moments pose pack. (Since the creator is retired from pose making, I found this pose at this SFS link from her main tumblr page which houses a bunch of her old poses). And this installment shows more of the 1920s Jazz club lot by EmersedCrown on the Sims 4 Gallery/ @greatbritishsimchallenge on Tumblr.

(They're doing a really cool historical legacy challenge over there, by the way. I think the story is at the Stuarts but I found it while looking for historical cc and builds and got into it from the start. I just finished the Iron Age and I haven't read ahead, but I totally recommend it if you're itching for a legacy read with juicy drama and historical touches in short installments. But fair warning, it's a lot of death and war and famine, as historical gameplay tends to be!)

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Dead Boy Detectives Fic Recs Part 10

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Xmas | Part 9

I may take a break for a little bit as I haven't been reading much lately, but I'm sure I'll come back to doing these lists soon! This is such a lovely, talented fandom that deserves all the love! ♥️

Also, don't forget, these rec lists now have their own collection on AO3 for all the fics I've ever recced here. If your fic is on this list and you don't have 'Invite to collections' enabled, please feel free to add it yourself! :)

i'm just too stubborn to know when to quit! (you) by emryses

Spiderman AU! Which also kind of gave me Superman vibes? Featuring Charles as Spidey and Edwin as Lois Lane.

This is a gift (The high cost of living) by foolishgames

Death is having a day off so Edwin and Charles get a little treat. This is an "Alive for a Day" fic and it's done so well! Just a sensory extravaganza for the boys pretty much free of angst.

these things are sent to try us by KiaraSayre

Edwin and Crystal are trapped by a therapy time-bubble, forcing them to work together (and through their issues) to break free. I love fics that centre their prickly friendship and this one has excellent sniping turned cheerleading for each other. Also, Edwin gets an ear piercing. Wholesome.

The Long Way Home by Ice_Elf

Edwin is sent back in time and befriends baby Charles. This one has a lot of sweetness balanced by time travel angst and Charles' canonical terrible childhood, though vastly improved by Edwin's presence. Recommended!

kick the last nail in by Cesare

In which Johanna Constantine is hired to exorcise the vengeful ghost of a haunting victim's childhood friend, Charlie Rowland. I love an unreliable narrator and I'm always happy to see more of Johanna!

I'm trying to get an education here by eunoise

Crystal and Niko are dreading their school's Parent Teacher Night so they enlist the boys to pretend to be their parents... This one is so funny but also sweet? Worth reading just for Edwin getting waaay too into his role.

I found the cure to growing older (& you're the only place that feels like home) by thegirlofthorns

5+1 fic about Edwin slowly opening up to Charles about Hell and processing his trauma... through puzzles. Featuring sudoku, a hedge maze, Edwin having a Bad Time and (Emotional) Hurt/Comfort.

stare down at the wonder of it all by vyther15

Listen, I'm always here for a Cinderella AU, OK? Also, shout out to the author for using subheadings like the intertitles in the show. We love to see it.

he seems to me equal to the gods that man by purposefullyinlove

This fandom has been needing a Professors AU and this fic delivers! Bonus points as it's also an Outsider PoV fic about the student body rabidly speculating about Professor Payne's love life and also that hot punk guy who hangs around campus sometimes. Such a delight.

if we want to get close then we'll need to get lost (in the heat of it) by wordsinhaled

Edwin needs to have sex for case reasons and Charles is determined to make it Beautiful. This is A Case Made Them Do It with heart.

The Case of the Omegaverse Portal by miraworos

When Edwin is kidnapped, Charles must rescue him from a strange alternate universe where they're alive again and also have some weird new biological quirks... Tbh, the title is pretty self-explanatory, but maybe skip it if you don't like A/B/O. Personally, I love a "Canon Character is Suddenly Omegaversified, Time for Some Social Commentary!" fics.

Only trouble is, I'm dreaming my life away by Hse11z5

Edwin is trapped in a dreamworld and Charles must venture into his dreams to rescue him. This one is bittersweet as the boys kind of get to relive being alive in the dreams and Charles being part of Edwin's dream memories of his life gives it an Alive Boys/First Meeting in 1916 vibe. Plus Charles acting on his Feelings Realization at the worst time and Edwin Misunderstanding gives it a nice extra sprinkling of angst.

loving nothing solitary by williamvapespeare

Edwin and Charles in the aftermath of the attacks. This one is part of the Expanded Universe of DontOffendTheBees' Painland Domestic AU. The boys are still alive and in school and helping each other cope with the trauma of their near death experiences, sleep deprivation, separation during the Easter Holidays and their respective families. Lovely Hurt/Comfort.

Let's be jolly by ghostinthelibrary

A pixie infestation at the office Christmas party forces Charles and "Supply Closet Thomas" (aka the Cat King) to team up to save Edwin (and the rest of the bureau). Belated Christmas Party fic in the Ministry of Supernatural Investigations verse. I will rec anything in this AU, it's all golden! Anyway, enjoy hideous Christmas jumpers, social embarrassment and Charles somehow never questioning his insane jealousy of his totally platonic partner's ex.

Rituals of Remembrance by justafandomfollower

Crystal meets a weird Edwardian ghost detective with insane pain tolerance at the cemetery and helps him with his case. This is a short and sweet Edwin & Crystal Different First Meeting friendship fic. I loved the concept of Crystal meeting one (or both!) of the boys pre-canon while she was still hanging out with ghosts in the graveyard. This needs to be more of a trope!

where was my fault (in loving you with my whole heart) by aletterinthenameofsanity

Charles thinks they're friends with benefits but wants to be more. Edwin just thinks they're in love. It all comes out at the worst possible moment. In which they are in love but break each other's hearts in very different ways. Angsty but tender and has a happy ending.

Tell the Gravedigger (He Only Needs to Dig One) by Civilized_muppets

The boys decided to bury Edwin's remains with Charles' in the early 2000s. This becomes a Problem when Charles' murder is finally investigated and his grave is exhumed, prompting consternation at the second skeleton, wild conspiracy theories and an unfolding newstory that grips the nation. I have been dying for a fic with this kind of Unsolved Mysteries, national media attention and "Justice for Charles and Edwin!" vibes. Plus established payneland as the icing on the cake.

@emryses @thenyoumaykissthebride @ghostinthelibrarywrites @wordsinhaled @williamvapespeare @starsandatoms @justafandomfollower @vyther15 @edwin-paynes-bowtie @miraworos @civilizedmuppetsao3 @ice-elf @eunoise @codenamecesare @dont-offend-the-bees @aletterinthenameofsanity @atariakana @whatthehorsedoicallthisblog @shazziez @extremely-eager-reader @northen-light @tigerliliesandcherryblossoms @fairandfatalasfair @tessaaaaa @icurlybooks @guardianspirits13 @many-gay-magpies @bibliomancer7 @littlepocketuniverse @lavenderlovers-stuff @every-moment-a-different-sound @nobledragonflying @overlord-of-chaos

As ever, let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list. :)

[gguk-n]

Chapter 2- Secret and Surprises

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N has lost out on a few of her publication dreams while juggling 2 jobs. Her crush on Max has only led to failed relationships. She dreams of one day meeting and being with Max. But Max has a girlfriend and a career she knows nothing about.

{Reader's POV}

I finally moved out from my parents's place a few years back when I decided to pursue Literature. It was a very difficult time for me but I had Max by my side. Trying to convince my parents that I want to understand the art of writing and then doing what I love was very challenging. I moved to a another city with my dream university. Even today, they detest my choices and hope that I would take my life seriously. It has been difficult but seeing them once or twice a year only has made it easy.

Max and I are still very close. I still have a crush on him; it got worse after we started video calling each other after I moved out. I wasn't about to get 'caught' talking to a guy under my parents's roof. The consequences would be disastrous. Max is still the same, slightly older, has a stubble. I still don't know his full name, but he doesn't know mine either and I don't mind keeping it that way.

Having Max as a friend has hindered quite a few relationships either because they weren't him or they were jealous of some guy I would drop everything for. He still has a horrible sleep schedule, I've scolded him a couple time, but he doesn't listen. However, he has the cutest cats, Jimmy and Sassy. They love their dad a lot; I really wanna get cats too but I'm barely keeping myself alive, I'll kill my pets.

My job pays shitty, I'm a primary school teacher and freelance editor. I had hoped that being an editor for bigger and well established authors would help me improve my writing and get my book or poems published; has yet to happen. All my clients are kind people and very understanding of my predicament. Alas, this doesn't leave me much time in the day; teaching, lesson planning, correcting papers, editing other's stories or poems, talking to Max. Max has gotten pretty good about not disappearing like he did a couple years back. I still have no clue what he does, not like he knows what I do specifically. But he said he does something along the lines of cars; I knew he loved cars. I hope his job pays him better since he moved a few years back when I was still at home. His place looks lavish, either he gets paid well or it's from the company. I will never know. He's seen the shit hole I live in, but has yet to comment on my poor living conditions. I have too much of an ego to let my parents know I am struggling; I would rather starve then let them know. All I would hear is that they were right and I should mend my mistakes. What mistakes should I mend when these were my choices and I'm happy with them.

I've compiled 20 of my poems and even wrote a book, I've sent it to so many publishers in hopes that it will get picked up. This is like my fourth or fifth time. I mean, I haven't exhausted my resources and till the day all the publications shut down I'm not giving up. I've been rejected quite a few time, sometimes at the initial stages or after first reading and preview. They make publishing a book look so easy on shows and movies. I wish it was that easy in real life, but it isn't.

Being on spring break makes it so much easier for a while, till I have to return. However, I can focus on my book and the editing gig since it pays better than teaching. There's this guy I'm editing for currently and he's so annoying. I want to stop working with him except he pays the best. The life of being chained to capitalism. I was fixing up his errors when my phone rang, it was Max on video call. We spoke on video call a lot after I moved out. He's attractive, blue eyes; truly all my weaknesses combined. When the screen popped up, he almost fell out of frame when Jimmy jumped on the phone. Max placed Jimmy on the floor. Max- Hey, Schat. Sorry about Jimmy. Y/N- Hi, honestly I would rather talk to Jimmy. (I laughed) Max- Sometimes, I think you are friends with me for my cats. Y/N- Yeah, I would've stopped being your friend had you not adopted them. Max- Wow! I'm hurt. (He placed his hand on his chest) Y/N- Stop being dramatic. I'm just living vicariously through you. Max- You should get cats too, you seem lonely. Y/N- I wish, I'll end up killing them since I'm so busy. Max- hmmm, I hope you find a companion. I did find a companion Max, every time I get a boyfriend, we break up directly or indirectly because of you I thought. Max- What happened to Finn? I thought he was smitten for you. Y/N- Yeah, things didn't work out. We both were too busy with work. In actuality, when we finally got close after months of talking and the first time we had sex I moaned out Max's name. He left immediately. I wasn't about to tell Max this. It would ruin everything, I believe. Max- What were you doing? Y/N- Editing that ass's book. Max- You know maybe, you should leave some blunders, not the most obvious ones but one's that would make him look stupid. Y/N- I wish Max, he pays me a shit ton to do my job. (I laughed bitterly) It's fine, honestly. I'll be done soon and I'll never have to see him again, hopefully, fingers crossed. Max- I hope so too. Y/N- Max, you should date someone. Instead of worrying about me. I've never seen you date anyone in all the years I've known you. Max- ahh, yeah, I'm too busy with work to do that. Y/N- If we lived closer, I would've set you up with someone. That someone being me, but he doesn't need to know that. We haven't even met yet; we never even spoke about meeting each other honestly. Max scratched his neck, shaking his head. Max- I'm good, schat. You should find someone, maybe you'll stop being cranky. Y/N- I'm not cranky, at least not with you. Max let out a deep laugh. Max- Well, I've got to go. My sister's visiting. I'll talk to you later. Y/N- Sure, say hi to Victoria for me. Bye Maxie!! Max- bye Y/N.

Talking to Max always brightened up my mood. But since, Victoria's visiting, he won't be available to talk as often. That means I'm gonna have to spend all my free time scrolling through Instagram. It's all fun and games until I'm on hour 6 of some random video on Youtube. I spent the next couple of days cooped up in my home, just to enjoy waking up late. There were still a few months still summer break and I intended on enjoying them to the fullest.

School started way to soon for my liking. Max would send pictures of Jimmy and Sassy to cheer me up. It did cheer me up. Max travelled a lot for work, I've seen quite a few hotels and I think they are 5 star hotels. So, his work place is rich rich. I wish Max would hire me, I lamented, maybe then we might meet. I've thought about meeting him but he never showed any inkling that he would like to meet me. I wasn't about to seem desperate; I would probably jump him if I did. I mean he is single, so it's fine.

When the school started after spring break, I got handed a new author to help edit her work. I spoke to her and she was very nice to talk to. The book she was writing was based off a sport. On further questioning, she told me it was Formula One. I had heard about it when my city hosted a Formula E race a couple years ago. I don't remember much because I'm not sure if they held it again but what I can tell you is that traffic got so bad, I hated leaving the house for a couple of days. I don't really see the appeal of watching people go around in a circle in fast cars. I think I would panic if I found out how fast they drove. The author asked me to do some research on the topic. I was a good student and I wanted to be of help, so I decided to spend the next couple of hours going through Formula One and their rules.

There's something I have to clear up, I have a type of blindness bias. If I'm not interested in a topic, it would be like I live under a rock. Nothing could phase me and I couldn't care less. That's how I ended up on the wikipedia article of Lewis Hamilton, Micheal Schumacher and then current champion Max Verstappen. Schumacher and Hamilton were very good, reading about them made me awe struck. What really shocked me was a guy named Max Verstappen, who looked awfully like Maxie. I've stared at Maxie more than I would like to admit, so I'm sure they look alike. As I went through the article, my heart seemed to beat harder; not sure why. I felt like this was my Maxie however I believed that Maxie would've told me if he was a Formula One driver. I had to lay my doubts to rest, so I ended up on Youtube with the search bar reading Max Verstappen. My doubts laid to rest in a place I didn't want them to; Maxie was Max Verstappen. I could recognise that voice anywhere. He talked a lot, I could recognise his voice in a crowd of people or in my sleep. All my suspicions were cemented when I saw a picture of 2 cats who looked like Jimmy and Sassy and were called by the same name. My heart was ready to jump out of my chest. Max had lied to me; but was it really lying when I never prodded him for answers. Worst of all, he had a girlfriend and a kid. That's when I felt I was lied too. How could he not tell me? I would've genuinely been happy for him. We would've celebrated his 2 championship wins. My throat felt dry and my eyes wet.

Life wasn't fair when I've been trying to get my book published while my best friend, don't even know if I can call him that, is a 2 time world driver champion. He never even told me, while he has been in Formula One almost all our friendship and karting all his life. I felt the ground slipping from under my feet. Was I that unimportant to not share such a crucial part of his life or huge accomplishment in his life? Was I even his friend? All these questions raced through my mind, while tears streamed down my cheeks. The pillow wet from my tears when my phone rang. It was Max on the other line, and for the first time in 10 years I did not answer his calls even though it rang for a 4-5 times. He finally stopped after sending me a couple of worried messages; asking how I was and where I was?

[Max was freaking out. Y/N never missed his calls, no matter the time or place. Worst of all, she didn't even reply to his messages; not after 5 minutes or 10 minutes or 20 minutes. Max didn't know where she lived, he didn't know who to call, or who to ask about her. His hair was a mess, he was pacing the room so much so, that his girlfriend’s daughter asked him what happened. He couldn't tell them, no one knew of this secret internet friend he had. Who was he supposed to contact to file a missing person's report? He tried to calm himself down and think happy thoughts but all his thoughts were Y/N]

[swap-tech-enterprise]

Public Relations Internship Part A, Customer Swap Stories #2

My name is Michael and I am currently a junior public relations major at Penn State.

When the university announced they partnered with Swap Tech Enterprise (STE) and launched the “Semester in Their Shoes” program, I knew that I wanted to take advantage of the opportunity. I would spend the semester in the body of a recent graduate working full time in the public relations field letting me see the day to day life of someone who works in public relations looked like. While participating in the program, the work assigned to you would equate to some of the classes I should be taking but can’t while part of the program, so not only was I gaining real world experience in the field, but I also wouldn’t be missing any credits and would still get to graduate on time. As for the person I would be swapping with, they would get to spend a couple of months living my life and having a break for all the work they had to do. 

Once applications for the program opened I immediately applied in hopes to spend my spring semester working in Public Relations. After months of waiting to hear back, I finally received the email informing me that I was accepted and matched with someone for the swap. I was so excited I could barely contain my excitement in the days leading up to the swap. Finally, the day arrived and I headed down to the STE Swap Bank as instructed. I informed them that I was participating in the program through my school and they quickly gave me a run down of who I would be swapping with other information that I would need to know before the swap. After receiving all the information, the Swap Technician took me to the swap room and began prepping me for the swap. As they counted down, I was so excited that I didn’t even realize I lost consciousness once the Swap Tech’s countdown hit 0. As I opened my eyes, I noticed I was in a different room and knew the swap had worked. However, as I stood up from the bed, something was wrong. Looking down at my hands I noticed they were showing signs of aging, which shouldn’t be the case since I was supposed to be swapping with a recent graduate. I brought my hands to my chest and noticed that I was showing signs of aging as well as my body looked like it hadn’t stepped foot in a gym in years. I quickly ran to the mirror and was shocked by the face looking back at me. It wasn’t the face of a 24 year old recent graduate but that of what I could assume was a 50-55 year old man. 

Turns out that Chris, the manager of the public relations team I was joining couldn’t secure any volunteers for the swap, so he elected to step up instead. I started demanding that they swap me back now, but per the terms of the contract I signed when applying for the program, it stated that if no recent grad volunteers could be available, the head of the team could step up in their place. Upset with the circumstances, I reluctantly got dressed and headed to Chris’s apartment in Midtown, as I was now going to be living at his place in New York until the end of the spring semester in May.  I quickly took a picture and sent it to my parents, as they wanted to be updated once I was settled in.

To say my parents were shocked was an understatement, but they also knew the terms I agreed too when applying for the program and told to stick it out as May would come soon enough and I could get back to my body. They also told me they’d keep a close eye on Chris in my body to make sure he didn’t do anything I would regret after the swap so that calmed my nerves a bit. Figuring I had nothing better to do, I prepped for my first day on the job tomorrow. What should be an exciting time in my life has now been ruined and all I can do now is finish what I signed up for. God, May can’t come quick enough! 

[galaxiasgreen]

🍭☀️A Cruelty Vivid and Sweet

Slow burn angsty Ominis x F!Reader [T-Rated, 7.8k words]

Letting himself embrace this horrid part of his heritage terrified him. It was like being back in the cellar again, that Muggle writhing beneath him in pain, his parents and brother lauding his name. Gaunt. No matter what he did to unbind himself from the bloodline, always it came back to shackle him. Always, it answered when he didn't call.

In which, even after he broke your friendship, Ominis can't get you out of his head.

Tropes: angst/ romance/ drama, slow burn, black cat x golden retriever, opposites attract, forbidden love, Scriptorium quest, Muggle culture, Your Scent in the Amortentia, Going Feral when You're Hurt, Comforting You When You're Sad.

[MASTERLIST][PREV][NEXT] [read on AO3, read on Wattpad]

2: When Everything Changed

You didn't speak to him for a long time.

Justifiably, Ominis knows. It's one thing to insult, degrade, demean someone, but something else entirely to diminish their very existence, to reduce them to flesh and bones and happenstance. You were Muggle-born, he was pure-blood. Your friendship together was as tenuous as life itself.

You didn't deserve risk, so he steeled his heart, his mind. He moved through the struggles of fourth year silently, like a wraith, participating only when needed. A clock was ticking for summer – he couldn't spend the entire holiday at Feldcroft, though he longed for it, though Sebastian offered. When the dread of it came, thick and drowning, it was the thought of you, what he was doing ultimately to protect you, that eased the pain. He didn't realise how deeply you had planted your vines inside him, so that everything he did now, anything he felt, or touched, or tasted, reminded him of you. You were ingrained, and no matter how hard he tried to uproot you, you would not wither.

Perhaps this was his reality now. Perhaps he would never speak to you again.

Naturally, fifth year changed everything.

The new school year rang with tension. A goblin tyrant, Ranrok, sought vengeance against wizardkind, with his influence strongest around the Scottish Highlands, scattered around the hamlets around Hogwarts. His plans were unclear, just another thing Ominis worried about, massaging his temple on the walk up to school for the first evening.

Sebastian wasn't in a talkative mood. He'd come to verbal blows with his uncle that afternoon, when Ominis was packing and keeping Anne company. Their voices were so raised they could be heard in the entire village.

"Stop getting her hopes up! For goodness sake, she's cursed. At least let her enjoy however long she has left in peace, without your meddling!"

"Meddling?" Sebastian scoffed. "She's my sister! I'll find a cure for her—"

"If St Mungo's Healers can't do it, no fifteen year-old boy will either."

"You might've given up, but I haven't."

"I've stopped trying to fill her head with false hope and nonsense!"

Anne's lethargic sigh had pulled Ominis away. "I'm so tired."

"You should rest."

"No." She fell back against the pillow. "I mean, of their arguing."

Truthfully, Ominis was tired of it too. He heard enough hatred at home, the few lonely weeks he had to spend there before absconding to Feldcroft. For the most part, his parents ignored him, though there were days they dragged him to dinners or parties with the other pure-blood families. He made sure to give the Malfoys as wide a berth as possible, even though Peregrine didn't bother him again.

"Can you promise me something, Ominis?" Anne had asked.

He'd pursed his lips. "That depends on what it is."

"You'll keep an eye on Sebastian this year." A wry laugh. "A metaphorical eye, that is."

He always intended to. The darkness was offering Sebastian solace, and he feared his best friend was diving down a path from which there was no return. How far would he be willing to go for Anne?

"I'll do my best."

"And... and talk to Gibby."

He hadn't heard your name all summer. It sent a frisson through him, equally terrifying and pleasant, and made to leave before an inevitable interrogation—

"Please," she said, stopping him. "Sometimes family isn't blood. Sometimes family is heart. And she is as much a part of yours as the rest of us are."

Yet, when he left with Sebastian an hour later, he adamantly reminded himself why he made that pact in the first place. He could not— would not talk to you, and rub raw a healing wound. Things were simply too dangerous to risk it, if not from Peregrine Malfoy, then from one of the other pure-blood families, the Lestranges, the Blacks, or the Fawleys.

When he and Sebastian arrived at the school, sun hushing the horizon, Ominis paid no mind to the knowledge that you were there, somewhere at the Hufflepuff table, enjoying the start of term without him. He took his seat next to his best friend and expected the same opening speech, Sorting Ceremony and feast.

Only there was one thing different.

Missy was what everyone called her. The nickname was sparked by rumour, as thick as honey – unlike yours, spurred by your actions, your quirks, Missy's had come before her, on the train up to Hogwarts, where all the fifth years spoke of a new student starting this year under the mentorship of Professor Fig.

Staring school so late, with the support of a prominent Hogwarts professor? That was unusual, she was unusual. A mystery.

Only when she appeared at the Sorting Ceremony, late, it was apparent she was anything but.

"There she is," Nerida crowed in the hum of chatter. "The new girl!"

"Her hair is amazing," said Violet, awed.

Ominis heard the new girl – like you, she had a distinctive set of sounds he could use to distinguish her from others. But unlike you, however, there was no naivety, no jolliness or upbeat wonder. There was only purpose, strong with each stride and levelled breath. Even as the interloper, and a late one at that, she acted like she already belonged.

His heart ached suddenly – the memory of the Undercroft tore at him, and he fought to keep it down, push away the strange sensation that came with thinking of you.

When the new girl was sorted into Slytherin, she sat next to Sebastian. "Hello." Her voice was distinctive too, well-spoken, eloquent, from wealth.

"The mystery student," Imelda said, clearly more impressed than she let on. "The whole year's been talking about you."

"Have they?" She didn't seem bothered by this at all. "Is that what I am? A mystery?"

"A real lady of mystery," said Sebastian, equally intrigued.

"Oh," said the mystery student, chuckling – Ominis caught threads of a sinister undertone. "I'm no lady. Miss is just fine."

"Well, then, Miss Mystery," Sebastian teased, "welcome to Hogwarts."

Ominis was too polite to ask what her real name was. It was too late now, anyway. The nickname stuck like mud, too fitting for a girl with an air of something otherworldly and powerful to be displaced. Your laughter bubbled in his head – maybe she would come to love the nickname as you did.

But there was no point thinking about you anymore. No point imagining what the future beheld for you.

Later that month, Ominis asked after what Missy looked like, if only to build a better picture of how different you were to one another, but Sebastian had only laughed.

"I'd tell you, but she changes her hair and eyes every day. Always in Snelling's Emporium. And her robes – she's never wearing them! Every class we go to she just puts on capes and hats and all sorts. It's a mismatch."

A very strange girl indeed, but not in the same way you were, in the same way you still are.

As the air began to chill, Ominis felt the change in his friend like frigid air on bare skin. He was warming to the new girl, more rapidly than Ominis expected – she invited him to Hogsmeade, joined his secret duelling club, stole him for night-time escapades and thirsted for knowledge only he could give. It seemed harmless enough at first, but the new girl had a particular sway, popular but not needy with the attention, mysterious but still generous with her time, and genial with her friends. Especially with Sebastian.

Worst of all, you were becoming her friend too. She was like the replacement for what you'd lost.

"Amortentia." Professor Sharp's voice carried through the Potions classroom one day, as October crept up the front lawns. "I'm sure you're all familiar with this, but for our new student's sake, could someone please refresh us on its properties?"

Unsurprisingly, Garreth spoke up. "It's the most powerful love potion in the world. It smells different to everyone according to what most attracts them."

"Very good. This is a potion we will be learning to brew in seventh year. As Mr Weasley has said, this is the most powerful love potion in the world." The last part he emphasised seriously. "It is not to be trifled with. Today, we will be brewing weaker love potions, but I am allowing you all to see for yourself the properties of Amortentia, so that you may recognise it outside the classroom. Dare I say, so you can protect yourself should anyone try to use it on you."

Sharp allowed them to gander at the potion as they brewed their own. The fifth-year girls were most excited, and as Ominis prepared his ingredients, the Hufflepuffs plus Missy headed up to the main station to have their turn.

Of course, you were amongst that group.

"Well, Missy?" you asked, as eager and animated as he remembered you to be. "What does it smell like?"

Missy took a whiff, then laughed.

"Secrets."

"Secrets don't have a scent," said Lenora haughtily.

"They do to me." She stood back, let you go ahead. "Go on then, Gibby, your turn. What does it smell like to you?"

Ominis struggled not to listen.

"Sweets." Of course it did. "Magic. You know, just the general scent of it. And..." Your voice turned tart. "Oil."

The giggling ceased. "Oil?" asked Adelaide.

"Oil," you confirmed, in a way that brooked no space for discussion.

What an absurd thing to find attractive. Did oil even have a scent? He pondered on this for a while, trying to untangle its meaning until their potions were neatly bubbling and Sebastian nudged him out of his thoughts.

"Want to go up next?"

They went after Everett declared his favourite scent to be broom handles ("Probably because that's the closest thing he'll ever get to a girl's touch," Sebastian muttered). Already the aroma was drawing him closer, a pleasant tickling like a silk robe on freshly bathed skin.

Sebastian inhaled deeply.

"Hmm."

"Well?"

"Old parchment," he said, "and hair dye."

Hair dye? "I've been told you were starting to grey."

"Funny. No idea why it smells like that."

But Ominis did. Just an inkling, anyway.

"Your turn." His friend stepped back. "You more than most anyone to know what it smells like."

Perhaps nothing, he thought in vain. It was a folly to think himself above such emotions. In fact, though his family may have tried to beat it out of him, it took strength to admit he had such a weakness at all. Since his sense of smell was more acute than most, it would've been strange, perhaps concerning, if there was no scent to the Amortentia at all.

So Ominis leant forwards and inhaled. The aroma was so heady he could get drunk on the smell alone.

"Honeysuckle," he murmured, probably because they grew around Feldcroft, and the memories were something he cherished. "Polished wood, like in a wandshop. And something... sweet." It was a sudden overwhelming note, and his voice grew hoarse. "It's very sweet. Something like—"

He iced over.

Strawberry laces.

"Something like...?" Sebastian said. "Your face has gone red."

"What?" Ominis drew back, willed the scent to disappear. "I— I don't recognise it."

Sebastian didn't say a word at first. Then came the insufferable chuckling beneath his breath.

"Ah, wait. Sweet, was it?"

"I said I don't recognise it." And when Sebastian went to speak again, Ominis quickly snapped, "Not another word."

But he knew, when his friend lapsed into contented, smug silence, this was by far the last time they'd have this conversation.

Without meaning to be, without even being there, you were a cruelty, vivid and sweet, and no matter what he did, he was powerless beneath your spell.

But with tensions rising in the world, he could not afford to think about you. He couldn't afford to think about what your scent in the Amortentia meant for his confused, muddled feelings.

By chance, he got the opportunity to think elsewhere the next day, when a letter arrived – from Gringotts, of all places. The braille glided beneath his fingertips, and he realised it was a will, his Aunt Noctua's will. It was getting to the point where she'd been missing longer than she had not, and his parents had finally bowled through solicitors and admin to snatch the last of the pittance from her vault. With no next of kin, she had given most of it to Ominis, though the money wasn't actually his until he turned seventeen.

Truthfully, the worst part was he could barely remember Noctua's voice anymore. He wondered constantly where she had gone, why she'd left him with her horrible brother and family. Once when he was eight, when a hopeful innocence still sang through him, Noctua had come to watch over him as his parents and siblings attended a society event in London. A pure-blood ball, he was told. Adults talking about adult things, how dull. As the youngest, Ominis hadn't been permitted to go, but he didn't mind so much when he got to spend time with his whacky aunt.

He was practicing his braille as Noctua tidied about the room.

"They'll be back after sundown," she was saying, "so make sure you're finished before then."

"Isn't it midday?"

"It's one."

"So I have lots of time."

"Yes," she said mirthfully, "but I want to take you to the village later today."

The village? "That's the Muggle place, and Father says I shouldn't go near them. They're all stupid anyway. Like pigs."

"Is that what he said?"

"Yes."

A creak as she sat on the bench next to him. Her hand ran down his back.

"You should know, Ominis, that not everything your father says is true. Muggles aren't anymore stupid than wizards are. They're hardly different from us at all."

The comment, harmless in retrospect, felt like an affront to everything Ominis knew. "But they don't have magic. That makes them stupid."

"It doesn't make them stupid. You don't have your sight. Does that make you stupid?"

"No," he said at once, indignant.

"So you understand. What we have and do not have doesn't matter. It is how we choose to live that does. In the end, we all return to the earth in the same way, flesh and skeleton."

That didn't make sense to him. "But how do they do anything if they don't have magic?"

"Well, you're learning your braille now, aren't you? They find ways to do things that work for them." She stood. "Tell you what, why don't we go to the village now? You can finish your work later."

Ominis agreed. He wanted to know, after all, if what Noctua said was true. She dressed him down for it, cotton and breeches and a woollen coat that drowned his arms, and they headed out before the clock struck two, Ominis clutching her hand as the wind bandied playfully with his hair. It didn't take them long to walk, though he detected so many new scents, new sounds. Wheat fields susurrating within musky spruce fences, crackling bonfires and burnings that pumped smoke into the sky. They reached a low stone wall that bordered the village river, cold against Ominis' hands, before Noctua hushed him.

"Do you remember the rules around Muggles?"

"No talking about the M-word," he said diligently, "or that we are the W-word."

So Noctua took him on a stroll through the market. He was surprised at the atmosphere, busy but not bustling. Horses clattered against cobblestone, ivy rustled against houses with rooves made of thatch. Knives slammed down on meat and fish, and there was bartering, so much bartering, for the best cuts and lowest prices.

"Come off it, Dave. Two shillings for that? You must be joking."

"Ain't no joke. Gotta' keep the lights on somehow, don't I?"

They chuckled, even though Ominis didn't understand why, until he remembered Muggles simply couldn't call upon light whenever they wanted. They had to rely on candles and hearths and gas lanterns. They had to rely on their own labour to make ends meet and provide for their children.

A thread of something fresh caught Ominis' nose then, and he turned towards the scent. Warm bread, just baked.

"Want some?" asked Noctua.

His family teachings came to him. Make no disturbance of your betters. "No thank you."

"Are you sure?"

It did smell nice, but he worried about whether Muggle bread was poison for wizards. Still, Noctua took him into the bakery, and thought terror laced through his fascination, he took the bread Noctua paid in their strange Muggle money and eagerly bit into the crust. It was warm and buttery and filled his belly to full – and best of all, it tasted like regular bread. No poison.

"Ah, born like that, was he?" said the baker.

Noctua seemed so at ease with them. "Yes, he's practicing braille at the moment."

"Oh, now, that's wonderful. Keep at it, lad. You'll do great."

"Thanks," Ominis managed. He'd never spoken to a Muggle before. He didn't know Muggles learnt braille too.

Noctua took him back outside as he finished the last of his bread. "Well? What do you think?"

The general mood was buoyant and hopeful. Not everyone was affluent, yes, but there was something wonderful in the way they worked tirelessly to get what they wanted. If the air smelt the same, the food tasted the same, the people merry and sad and angry the same...

"It's a bit like Hogsmeade," he admitted at last, because that was all he had to compare it to.

"So you see, then," said Noctua, a twinkle in her voice. "Not so different after all."

Only when they got back to the house, Ominis not entirely convinced but probing for more, he felt a shift in the air like claws on his shoulders. His parents had arrived home early, as had Marvolo and his noisy sneer.

"At the village, I see," his father barked. Then, "Ominis, to your room. Now."

Ominis knelt to the ground and pressed an ear to the crack under his door so he could hear the argument in the foyer below.

"You will do well to remember that he is my son, and I will not have you traipsing him around in Muggle slums!"

"Do you want him to be so completely unaware of the surrounding world? He'll have to live outside these walls one day."

Marvolo scoffed. "The boy is blind, Noctua."

"In sight, not in head," she retorted. "Though he will be if you all keep treating him this way."

It was nice to hear her support him, and from then on he enjoyed her company a lot more. She had so much wisdom to share, about the Muggle world, about his family, about the dark secrets that followed the Gaunts like shadow. When she went missing, he despaired in his bedroom alone, knowing all too well no one but him would care. It was only until that will arrived, balling up any last hope that she was alive, that he decided to shut the door on her disappearance once and for all – by chasing the information she'd last shared with him.

Salazar Slytherin's Scriptorium.

It hadn't been an immediate decision. Once he told Sebastian of the Scriptorium, and his aunt's futile quest to find it, Sebastian hounded him for weeks, desperate to seek it himself. Ominis shut down his questions, even though, secretly, he wanted answers himself.

Missy managed to convince him – if only because she reinforced how important it was for Sebastian to find a cure for Anne, something that was possible with the secrets of the Scriptorium. And, well, to sate his own curiosity Ominis wouldn't be moved, but for Anne, whom he loved as much as Sebastian did, he agreed to make an effort. He would put aside his distaste for the Dark Arts for closure.

"Don't mistake my agreeing to go as thinking this is a good idea. I'm only going to ensure you don't get into some sort of trouble."

Missy's voice turned upwards with agreement. "You've made the right decision."

On the other hand, his was rueful. "I hope we don't regret this."

They waited until nightfall. It should've been no trouble to get there for the three of them, since the Scriptorium's entrance was next to their common room – but come the clock chimes at midnight Missy was nowhere to be found. Sebastian paced in wait as Ominis pressed a heel to the wall where the secret door lay, trying to sense any vibrations beneath. Boot steps heading towards them snagged his attention.

But there were two pairs. The first, Missy's forceful strides. The second—

You.

Instantly he recognised it. The bounce of your curls. The clatter of your glasses. The shoes, merrily clacking against stone. The scent of you, so sweet and innocuous, and yet like pure ecstasy.

You startled at the same time he did, standing upright.

"Gibby—"

"Ominis—" Hearing you speak his name after so long, in a tone that wasn't revulsion, was like music. But the shock was gone when you turned to Missy, aggravated. "I-I didn't know he was coming."

"Yes," said Missy coolly, "this information comes from his family."

"And therefore it is my quest," he reiterated. "You cannot invite whomever you want."

"I thought the more people, the better." So composed and unperturbed. "Why? Will this be a problem?"

"Yes. She cannot go."

"And why not?" you challenged indignantly.

So damn naïve. "It's dangerous."

"When has that ever stopped me?"

"There's a first time for everything."

"You can put your wounded ego away, Ominis. There's no way I'm not going exploring with you all."

He swore steam erupted from his nose, but it took Sebastian, of all people, to step in and play middle man. "We'll all go— and no, Ominis, unless you're planning to hex her, I don't think you can stop her."

"Don't tempt me." He grinded his teeth. "If you get hurt—"

"You wouldn't care," you said coldly.

And you were right. He shouldn't have cared. He'd severed your bond almost a year ago now. But there was something in him helplessly clutched in your grasp. Something that wouldn't let him let you go.

"If we're ready," said Missy, elongating her words in a poor attempt to smooth the tension, "then you can tell us the first step into the Scriptorium, Ominis."

Lighting the braziers was the easy part. Other students had done it, lit the things to light their way through the dungeons and accidentally unveiled the door. But no one had got further. A dead end, it was declared.

Instantly, he knew why.

Whispers seeped through the chamber walls. As the others explored, and Missy repaired a broken relief, Ominis wished he could clap his hands over his ears. There was something terribly wrong with this place. Something dark.

"Wait— a journal entry! Under the broken pieces!" Sebastian snatched a crusty parchment from the ground. "Ominis— it's signed from your aunt."

"What?" He couldn't believe it. Then had she... succeeded? "What does it say?"

Sebastian read. "Wow... she tried to convince your father she'd found the Scriptorium. She came down to get proof."

Noctua was here. And, perhaps worse, his father knew. His father knew and never said a word.

Tears came unwilling to his eyes, and he fought to bat them back, but it was like the susurrations heard his pain, strengthening their efforts to unsettle him.

"What's wrong, Ominis?"

Your voice was a balm, even though Ominis hated himself for it. His throat ran dry.

"I— I can hear hissing."

"Hissing?" asked Missy.

"I'm a Parselmouth," he explained, and for some reason, admitting it in front of you filled him with more shame. "I can hear and speak to snakes."

"Wow, that's incredible."

The awe in Missy's voice disconcerted him. "All descendants of Salazar Slytherin have the ability."

"So what's it saying?"

Ominis swallowed and focused on the sound. It pulled such a deep fear from him, to use this ability he hadn't in so long. The worst of it was, it was like he'd last spoken it yesterday. Like he'd never stopped at all. He'd sworn a year ago to lock away all the darkness of his family bloodline and throw away the key, and yet here he was, standing in his predecessor's lair, the translation effortless.

For Aunt Noctua, he tried to convince himself. But it was much harder to pretend the ends justified the means.

"Speak to me," he murmured.

"The relief depicts a person facing a snake," said Sebastian. "And this door... well, it's covered in snake motifs."

Ominis felt it, if only to fuel the hope that his friend was wrong. Of course he wasn't.

His heartbeat was a wild stag in his chest. "But I— I can't. I haven't spoken it in years."

"I think you know it's not the sort of language you forget."

No. It wasn't.

Letting himself embrace this horrid part of his heritage terrified him. It was like being back in the cellar again, that Muggle writhing beneath him in pain, his parents and brother lauding his name. Gaunt. No matter what he did to unbind himself from the bloodline, always it came back to shackle him. Always, it answered when he didn't call.

Everything in this place was overwhelming. His father's deliberate silence, the darkness that fettered him when he thought he was free... He didn't realise he was shaking until a hand came to steady him. You. Because of course you knew about his aunt, and how fond of her he was. You knew how much this meant to him, even if you didn't know the horrible things he'd done to get here.

He hesitated pulling his arm away – a foolish mistake. Your touch lingered like your soap.

"Take your time," you said softly.

He tried to gather some lost mettle. For my aunt, he told himself, again and again, until the whispers didn't seem so scary. It was difficult to centre himself when three people were waiting on him, but knowing that behind this door were the answers for his aunt's disappearance, and potentially the answers for Anne's illness, lit the spark of courage he needed. All that was left was to speak.

So he took a deep breath. Forced it out again.

And he spoke.

The tongue was guttering and unnatural. Rusty. Yet the door recognised its own flesh, and as the snakes undulated along the door's surface, and it opened with a cold draught of wind, Ominis knew he'd never escape his family legacy. No matter how much he wished it.

The others cast Lumos and set about exploring the space. Even so many years here and there was still some wonder in discovering the new, the unwritten. Salazar Slytherin did not make it easy to enter his Scriptorium, as the enclosed stone hallways, suffused with the cold, were riddled with puzzles, most of them involving the use of sight. Missy managed to solve the first, a memory test that required her to twist dials to match symbols on the gates.

She clicked the first one. Something sharped sliced the air besides him, and Ominis flinched.

"What the—"

"The gate came down," Sebastian said, terrified but also in awe – a worrying amount. "Between the archway."

"So there's no way back."

You huffed a breath. "So there's only forwards."

Regardless of your optimism, that was not a comforting thought, and the group stayed closer together, firing Lighting charms into the darkness. Dust swirled beneath Ominis' nose, and yet the place had a damp, mildewed feel, unpleasant and uncomfortable, but as the others continued to solve Slytherin's riddles, a rising worry eschewed his fear. This was too easy. His ancestor, he hated to admit, was one of the greatest wizards of all time, and too clever to find entertainment in shallow puzzles. There had to be something worse.

"I don't like this," he murmured into the humming din at one point, as Sebastian and Missy searched for the next symbols.

He didn't mean to talk to you, but he had.

"We'll be okay," you said, even though you moved a little closer to him, closer than he'd expected. "Salazar Slytherin is your direct ancestor?"

He swallowed. "Yes."

A pause.

"He hated Muggle-borns, too."

On anyone else's tongue, the words were a jab. On you, they were only full of pity.

I don't hate Muggle-borns. I don't hate you.

But he couldn't bring himself to say it, and the silence that followed devoured him.

"I think this is the last one," said Missy, when they entered yet another identical stone corridor, the echo of her voice a small comfort in the confined space.

Sebastian had already turned this into a game. "Race you?"

She let out a single chuckle. "You couldn't keep up."

"Try me."

You laughed along to their competitive scrabbling. When the air rippled, and stone quaked, revealing a corridor that seemed to lead nowhere, you patted your cheeks twice and marched forwards on Sebastian's heels.

But Slytherin enjoyed games too.

The gate almost sliced Ominis' nose when it descended in front of him, cutting him off from you and Sebastian. A mere breath separated you, and yet the gap felt infinite.

Behind him, Missy spluttered. "Damn it!"

That meant— he was trapped.

Powerless.

He grabbed the gate, unyielding beneath his fingers. "Sebastian, what's going on?"

"I—" Sebastian startled. "Oh no."

He heard your intake of breath then.

"What's going on?" Ominis demanded.

"Bones," you said quietly. "And a note. I-It's from your aunt..."

She died here. You read it aloud, confirming Ominis' worst fears. Grief tore through him, swelling behind his eyes.

"This is the last puzzle," Sebastian said, voice firm. "There's a door, but it's sealed. It says Crucio on the floor..."

"No!" Ominis rattled the gate. "No, you can't. This is madness, Sebastian! Please—"

"Please what?" Sebastian said, frustrated. "The Scriptorium wants a price for entry. This is what we must pay."

But you didn't know any Dark Magic.

Sebastian did.

The realisation chilled Ominis down to his heart.

"Don't you dare!" he screeched. "Don't you dare use that curse on her!"

You stammered. "Ominis—"

"We're stuck!" Sebastian barked. "Your aunt died because she came alone. She didn't have anyone to use Dark Magic on. So unless you want to die like her, we don't have a choice."

"We always have a choice!"

Even though he didn't know what that was, even though it was Slytherin's nature to demand obedience or death. None of that mattered. What did was that you were the last person who deserved such pain, when you'd already been through so much. When he'd already caused it.

He tried with all his might to break the gate, bend it, cast the Exploding charm, whatever it would take to get him in the chamber.

"It won't work," Missy said, softer than he thought capable.

"I have to try—"

"It's okay," you mumbled, cutting him off. "I-I can take it."

The tremble betrayed your fear. Sebastian offered a compromise, that he could teach you and you'd use it on him, but even if you wanted to learn the curse yourself, which you didn't, there was no way you'd ever find the intention to use it willingly, and to use it willingly on Sebastian, no less, who'd done you no wrong since you'd known him.

Ominis banged his hands against the gate. "Damn it, Gibby—"

"I said I can do it," you snapped. "I'll be fine."

"I told you it was dangerous!"

"I knew the risks."

"Did you?" he challenged. "You came down to explore!"

"I'm not naïve, Ominis!" You came closer. "Of course the Scriptorium of Salazar Slytherin wouldn't be easy to get into. Of course I knew there was a price!"

But for you, and only you, to pay it? Was it by fate, that you walked in second, or was this what Slytherin wanted all along? For Muggle-born blood to pave the way for the rest of wizardkind?

His hands shook as he clutched the gate, so tightly his veins bulged. Once, you were the most naïve person he knew, but that day in the Undercroft had changed you as much as it had changed him.

You spun away, back to Sebastian. A deep breath.

"Okay. I'm ready."

"Are you sure?"

Presumably you nodded, because you didn't say the words.

And Ominis was helpless to listen as Sebastian raised his wand.

"Crucio!"

Your pain seemed to last for hours. For a second, a wink in time, you were silent, only that fizzing noise, that horrid, burning stench of the curse any indication anything was happening at all. But then you cried out, you wept,  you mewled, howled – then it was pure agony, screams that arced through Ominis in ways he would never forget.

Something shifted. It was a softer noise than your screams, like mud, or honey almost, sinking into the ground. As the blockage melted, Sebastian ceased the spell, but your pain did not end, and when the gate shot back up, Ominis stumbled over himself to get to you.

"Gibby," he fell to your side, cradled you, ran hands over your shoulders and face, breathless. "You— I— are you—"

Your ragged breaths calmed. Your quivering eased. Tears ran down his own, probably splattering onto you, but you said nothing, only remained still in his grasp as he held you, comforted you.

Something warm drew up his temple then, and it took a second to recognise it. Your hand. Your thumb, combing back an errant lock of hair, skimming the mole on his temple.

"So you do care," you croaked.

He didn't know how to respond.

"I-I'm sorry," he said instead, failure washing through him. "I... I should've—"

"Don't," you whispered. "Not here. Not yet."

So he didn't. Instead, he wordlessly helped you to stand. Sebastian and Missy asked after you, and their awkwardness brought a new flush to Ominis' cheeks, but when you gave a shaky thumbs-up and an audible smile that warmed even this terrible place, the four of you headed into Slytherin's Scriptorium impeded no longer.

Sebastian and Missy got to work searching each nook and cranny of the cavernous chamber of stone walls, busy with the scattered remnants of Slytherin's work: parchment, scrolls, ancient tomes on shelves that seemed to hum with magic too ancient to describe. Ominis held onto you for the entire time, emotionally spent. You clutched his arm in return, and he felt the tremble of your grip, the vestiges of the curse. He should've helped to search the place, really, but he didn't trust that Slytherin, the most famous pure-blood supremacist in the history of Hogwarts, wouldn't have any last surprises for you.

Missy eventually found Slytherin's spellbook, and the exit, which chucked the four of you back out into the dungeons. You huddled behind the columns until you were sure there were no teachers or prefects, and only then did Ominis allow himself a moment to press his head to the stone, process everything he'd heard, felt.

His aunt was dead, bones lying cold in that corridor.

Sebastian had used Dark Magic like it was second nature.

You had been hurt. And you were owed an explanation.

But so close to the common room entrance was risking too much. If not Peregrine Malfoy, then another pure-blood, a painting, a ghost, a teacher bribed. Someone else, trading with secrets that could ultimately slither its way back to his family.

"Ominis," Sebastian sounded genuinely contrite, "about your aunt—"

"Oh please, Sebastian," he snapped, the anger sudden but healthy. He swung on his friend, teeth bared. "We were lucky we escaped at all."

"But I'm grateful that we did, because maybe now Anne—"

"And if you'd have died in there? How could you have saved Anne then?"

You startled. "Wait, let's—"

"Swear to me." He didn't bend under the weight of your gaze. "Swear to me, right now, that we will never engage with Dark Magic ever again. That— that we will never cause that pain again."

Sebastian was speechless. "But—"

"Swear it, Sebastian!"

"All right, all right." He took a breath. "Understood. And I... I really am sorry about your aunt."

Admittedly that closure was nice, to know Noctua was gone. He didn't voice anything, his feelings too raw and churning, and Sebastian headed towards the common room, Missy in tow.

"We'll go. You two... have a lot to talk about."

When the common room door slid shut, and it was only the two of you, alone, a new sort of worry seeded in his stomach. You said nothing for a while, the last moments that had passed between you as palpable as stone.

"I— I'm sorry," he forced out, this apology much harder than the last. "The Cruciatus Curse—"

"I'm okay," you repeated. A shuffle of your boot. "Are... are you going to talk to me again now? Are you going to tell me why you turned on me?"

But he found the words impossible and unmoving. He needed time, space, to heal from today, before he was ready to open another old wound.

"I-I can't. Not yet."

You paused. It was long and hard to bear, like a rake drawing down his chest.

"All right," you said quietly. "When you're ready, find me. You know where."

He did know where. Back in the early months of first year, when you were green and hungry, there were times when you weren't tagging in Ominis and Sebastian's shadows, times when they didn't know where you were at all. Once he decided, on whim, to search. The castle was huge and he wasn't optimistic, but he checked your favourite places: the Hufflepuff common room, the library, the front lawns and the sitting area outside Charms. When you weren't there and no one had seen you, he concluded he was just missing you, and hurried towards the Great Hall before his absence at dinner was noticed.

That's when he heard you, far above.

The hallways of the Viaduct Entrance were quiet – everyone was at the feast – and even still, your voice was barely a whisper. He halted, pausing to make sure, and there again was your sound, high-pitched and squealy and very you. Brow furrowing, he followed the noise up the stairs until he found himself squirrelled between the wooden joists holding the ceiling.

Whilst Ominis and Sebastian had claimed the Undercroft as their own, this was your space. He didn't know when you'd discovered it, or how, but here you were, curled beneath the beams.

Crying.

It surprised him. You, crying? When you were always so upbeat? When everything seemed to make you laugh? He approached you like you were a unicorn, easily spooked by noise. Still, you noticed him anyway.

"Oh! Ominis! I— I didn't see you there."

"That makes two of us."

But you didn't laugh, which meant something was very wrong.

He swallowed his pride. He'd never dealt with someone crying before, least of all a crying girl. "What's the matter?"

"You're going to think I'm silly."

"I already think that."

Another heaving breath. Another jab that didn't land. "Then— I don't know. You might laugh."

"Why would I—?" He stopped himself. That wasn't what you needed to hear. Instead, he sat next to you. "I won't laugh. Promise."

"Okay." You shuffled a little closer. "I-I miss home."

Ah. You were homesick. Frankly the concept was foreign to him – he'd never once missed his family. Even then he rejoiced every second he got to spend away from home. Still, it seemed to be eating you up.

"I-I'm not ungrateful," you said quickly. "I'm really happy to be here. And I really like magic. It totally makes sense – one time I exploded my brother's washing basket and we never knew how—"

"Exploded—?" He sighed. Just you things. "Never mind."

"But I miss them. My mama and papa run the confectionary. My brothers are supposed to take over when they're older, but Connor met Matilda Asher at church and everyone reckons they'll marry soon and he'll go into lumbering, and Ellian doesn't like sweets a lot, and he's much better at business and numbers anyway, and who knows how little Tam will grow up— oh no, I'm going to miss him growing up!"

Now you were weeping and hiccoughing. "Slow down. You're getting tears on my robes."

"Sorry. Is that... am I a wally?"

He didn't have the heart to ask what a wally was.

"Everyone gets homesick sometimes."

"You don't."

So you noticed. "I grew up in the magical world. You didn't. If I was suddenly dropped into the Muggle world, I'd be sad too. It's overwhelming to suddenly be in a different place with different people, let alone find out you're actually a witch, but you'll get used to it."

"What if I don't?"

"You will." It wasn't a guess. It was fact. "And your friends will help. Sebastian and Anne, and Adelaide and Evangeline and Arthur too."

"And you?"

"Yes," he said, managing a smile for your sake, "and me."

You took a deep breath, a sign that meant you would be okay.

"Do... do you have a tissue?"

"No."

"A... face-cleaning spell? Dryus Tearus?"

"You can't put -us at the end of words and expect it to be a spell. Just stop crying." It came out as a demand, even though Ominis didn't mean it to. He lifted the hem of his robes and wiped away the tears. "You'll get to go home at Christmas, which is only two months away."

By which point, he knew, you wouldn't feel so homesick anyway.

You squirmed when he drew the robe across your nose again. It was snotty, which made him grunt in disgust, which then made you giggle, and then use the sleeve of your own shirt to wipe the rest away.

"Thank you." You sniffled again. "I must look terrible."

"Awful."

A sharp pause – then another laugh, this one more like your usual self. "You are funny, Ominis Gaunt."

Funny was, perhaps, the last word he would ever ascribe to himself. It was, however, the perfect word to assign to his feelings a few days after the Scriptorium debacle, when he was finally ready to share the truth.

He didn't find you under the joists in the Viaduct Entrance's ceiling. Instead, where you were sitting that first time he caught you in first year, and where you sat in the subsequent times since, he found a note. Cleverly it was in braille, and he suspected there was no written words. He drew his thumb across the print.

Below astronomy deck, 8pm.

You had been waiting there, every day like clockwork. Waiting for him.

Ominis climbed the winding stairs. He didn't come up here often – without his sight, he couldn't read the stars, though he did still partake in stargazing theory and discussion. The floorboards croaked. So high up, the wind teased the tips of his ears, and he fussed with warming them until the deck was before him.

He thought he was alone, that he'd missed the chance today.

But you were here, coming up to him steadily. "Are you ready to talk?"

He nodded, voice scarpering deep into his throat. You waited. You weren't going to prompt him or give him any tools to help. You were as hungry for answers as you were before, but you would not make it easy. He would have to work for your trust.

He didn't know how to start.

"I— my family—" How did he tell you about the pain he went through, without diminishing yours? How could he articulate the horrors he'd experienced home, that he'd subsequently thrown back at you? "Some... things happened, when I was at home that summer after third year."

You waited still, not saying a word.

The beginning, then.

"You know my family hates Muggles. Hates Muggle-borns. It's an old pure-blood notion that Muggle-born magic is weaker, that it's stolen. I realised it was wrong when I met you, and regardless of my family's opinions I thought it was okay to be your friend."

"Opinions," you retorted. "You mean prejudice?"

"Yes," he agreed hoarsely, realising his error too late. "Yes, prejudice."

Silence again, as you waited for him to continue. He didn't know you could be so blunt.

"Peregrine Malfoy found out in third year we were friends. He— he told his father. Who told mine." Now his heart raced, his pulse thrashed, a cold clamminess prickled up and down his skin in disgust, shame, fear. "M-My parents, my brother Marvolo, they... they were displeased—"

Your hand found his arm then to steady him then.

"You don't have to continue."

"You deserve to know—"

"It's okay. I... I already know."

"You— what?"

"I've known since the Scriptorium."

"How?" he demanded, then seethed. "Damn Sebastian—"

"Not Sebastian," you mumbled.

Anne.

"It wasn't her place to tell either."

"No," you agreed, "but I wrote her a letter and she told me anyway, since you were being a dummy."

"But you know why, then," he reiterated, clutching your shoulders, hoping, begging to make you see. "You know why—"

"I know I lost my best friend," you said, angry tears snuffing your voice. "I know you suffered. I know your family are the vilest, most evil people on earth. I know that nosy Malfoy should mind his own business. Sebastian said he talked to him. He won't say a word about you now."

What the hell did Sebastian do? "It's too risky."

"I'd rather live in risk with you then not have you at all."

"You don't understand. My family will stop at nothing to protect the sanctity of the bloodline. If they are capable of hurting me, they will hurt you. Maybe— maybe worse. They might've tried something already if you weren't protected here, at Hogwarts."

"I'm not afraid of them."

"You should be. They can do so much worse than... than the slur I called you, Gibby."

"Mudblood. I know."

"Don't say—"

"Why? That word means nothing to me – it only meant something when it was coming from you."

He didn't know how to respond, speechless.

"Your family can continue to live their lives in hatred, but I won't ruin mine for their sake. If I have to keep my friendship with you a secret to keep you safe, fine." Your voice was fierce, incredible, beautiful. "But I am not losing you, Ominis Gaunt. Not again."

You knocked the breath from him then. Those were words he would never forget; you planted yourself deeper into his heart, where your flowers bloomed even in the shadows of his past.

You were his family, too.

It had taken him a long time to realise you always had been.

[MASTERLIST][PREV][NEXT] [Divider credits]

[nataliasquote]

Masterlist

Welcome to my masterlist! Alongside my work on Wattpad and AO3, you can find all my mini series and oneshots linked down below. I usually only write for Natasha Romanoff and occasionally Yelena Belova, but feel free to send in any requests. But no smut, I’m not comfortable with that :)

Natasha Romanoff | Series

[F = fluff, A = angst, H = hot af ]

⧗ Double the Trouble AU | WandaNat x daughter: [F] Natasha and Wanda have their work cut out raising twin girls. But despite the struggles and the arguments, there is nothing that would break the bond this family has created

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Canon oneshots:

A Day Out: [F] summer and sunshine calls for family trips out. To the zoo, naturally[2.9k words]

Groceries: [F] Natasha volunteers to do the weekly shop. Mundane, perhaps, but with two babies, things are never smooth sailing [1.4k words]

Cuddles: [F] a tipsy Y/n only wants one thing when she comes home from a party- Natasha’s hugs. And who is Natasha to refuse cuddles from her teenagers? [800 words]

New Families: [F] Natasha was content keeping her little family to herself. But Yelena and Melina weren’t. Which is how the family of four find themselves in Ohio, resurfacing memories for Natasha and challenging the three year olds in a whole new environment. Isla loves it, Y/n… not so much [4.4k words]

Yelena’s Day: [F] it’s finally Yelena’s turn to babysit the twins… a big responsibility for a usually messy Russian. [4.3k words]

Switch Up: [F] Yelena is back, the twins are older, and her scheming ways do nothing but backfire. a mother always knows… [3.3k words]

⧗ My Songbird AU | Natasha x Willow (O!C): It’s the 70s. Final summer of high school. Why not spend it getting high, partying and sneaking off with your girlfriend in a town that is so disapproving of anything deviating from the norm.

Mood board | part 1 [F]

⧗ Back in Time | Winterwidow x daughter: Natasha and Bucky’s daughter seeks comfort in her Aunt Wanda as her parents go missing on a mission. She doesn’t ask for much, she only wants to see them again.

part 1 [F] | part 2 [A]

⧗ Midas Touch | Maid!Natasha: no amount of money will ever save a broken marriage or a broken woman. But maybe the right person can turn everything she touches into gold and this time won’t be cursed to break everything she cares about.

part 1 [F + A] | part 2 [F + A]

Natasha Romanoff | Oneshots

⧗ Promises: [A] Natasha and Anastasia didn’t know love… not until they found it in each other. But the Red Room was cold, in more ways than one [2.6k words]

⧗ Ghost of You: [F + A] Learning to move on after Natasha’s sacrifice is the hardest thing in the world [3.2k words]

⧗ Lost in the Fire | f1 AU: [A] A horrific crash tests Natasha’s nerves to the limit as she has no choice but to sit back and watch from the garage. Her girlfriend and her sister push themselves for that all important win. [4.5k words]

⧗ I Will Rescue You | natasha romanoff x adopted daughter reader: [F + A] An alert from the Red Room sends Natasha, Yelena and Bucky on a last minute mission. But what they find is far from expected… [3.7k words]

⧗ Can’t You See This is Breaking Me: [A] Natasha isn’t quite ready to give her entire life for the woman she loves [5.2k words]

⧗ Tattoos For Troubled Minds: [F] Natasha struggles to trust anyone when it comes to touching her body. But that becomes rather difficult when a tattoo idea comes into her mind that she just can’t shake [3.6k words]

⧗ Midnight: [A] Natasha has never learned how to rest, and at midnight is where she is most vulnerable [1.1k words]

⧗ I Know What You Are: [A] The bane of Natasha’s existence had finally slipped up but when sent to eliminate her, feeling get in the way far too easily. [5.9k words]

⧗ Mustang | cowgirl Nat AU: [H] The mayor’s daughter. A bounty hunter. One has freedom, the other does not. But will one fleeting night be enough to convince Natasha to leave everything she’s ever known behind? [4.3k words]

⧗ Is It All For Nothing?: [A] You just want a friend. Is that so bad? How is it fair that everyone else gets one but you. What did you do that was so wrong? [1.3k words]

⧗ Welcome To My Head At Midnight | song fic: [A] Natasha Romanoff is her own worst enemy and maybe this fight isn’t one she’s so sure she can win. [2k words]

⧗ Sunkissed By An Angel: [F] the perfect lazy morning in the Romanoff summer beach house. [1.5k words]

Yelena Belova | Oneshots

⧗ For Her: [F + A] Yelena tries to find the balance between spending christmas with her girl and tracking down Clint Barton… [1.7k words]

[derehono]

24.02.2022.

The day that changed my life forever.

24th of February 2022 should have been my usual day. No, not usual. A wonderful day. I should have been checked with a doctor, gave notice to teachers in high school of my absence, and then fly away on vacation, my parents wanted it so much.

On 23rd of February 2022 I felt happy. I had a secure, happy life, preparing to finals, hanging out with my friends, already having an offer from university.

Until 5AM 24.02.2022.

I had not a single class in my school since then.

I haven’t seen my friend group in 2 years.

I didn’t have my finals.

We did not have that vacation.

“Daughter, wake up. This old psychotic man attacked us. We are leaving.”

That was my first photo of the day, trying sarcastically keep myself normal. I remember that actual emptiness, reading my classmates texts about how their windows were shaking because of explosions, the sky was orange. They sent that video.

He called it “a special military operation”.

I collected random clothes, some hobby stuff just to keep my sanity, grabbed my pet, emptied my safety locker. I was scared that russians would intrude into our home and steal all my savings, so I throw away key to that lock. This key became my symbol of war, I have never found it even after return.

When I with my parents and pet got out of flat to car we heard for the very first time air raid siren. We would hear so many more of them, we would learn to differentiate them, but then we were confused.

It was my second photo. People were going away. Foot, cars, bicycles. I remember such a surreal picture. Some moms were carrying their toddlers, one woman was carrying a bucket of water with turtles, other people were carrying cages with parrots, with dogs, with cats, with exotic pets despite air raid siren, temperature, rain. Everyone was so confused and scared.

Few days later the road we were riding was occupied. Bridges destroyed. Factories burnt. Supermarkets demolished. Houses in ruins. Road in holes. On the side of the road burnt cars with “DO NOT TOUCH, POSSIBLY EXPLOSIVE”. That gut wrenching feeling seeing photos of dead bodies and recognising the place.

But back then it was still lively, not a road of death. I remember reading news then. First victims, first shelling. Invasion from East. Invasion from Kharkiv region. Invasion from Crimea. Invasion from Chernihiv. Invasion from Zhytomyr. And we were in Zhytomyr region at that moment. Explosions in Kyiv. The border was destroyed.

I felt nothing. Just emptiness.

This precious girl was keeping my head cool all the road. She was also scared and irritated, but she was so strong, such an amazing girl. I am so proud of her.

We were heading to my grandparents who lived closer to West Ukraine, so we would be safer. The road that takes usually just 4 hours but that time it took 13 hours. 13 hours of driving exhausted and nerved. We saw soldiers, trucks, jets, how barricades were built, signs were removed.

But we made it. We were lucky. Lucky to be alive, to have family alive and mostly close to West, further from russia. Even though, part of my extended family still was under occupation in Chernihiv region, suffering from such close border with belarus.

When we arrived, we were just silent. Then collected mattresses for shelter, asked grandpa to grab some patrol (we knew that they would definitely destroy reservoirs and literally next day the started doing that), and just fell asleep in something that we arrived in, being so scared.

That day I also cut ties with russian friend who I am shamed to admit having. He was proving me that this is just a military operation, no one would be harmed.

Then, arrived spring that I will never forget but at the same time never remember. I remember 10 people in one floor house. I remember the whistle of rocket that woke us up. I remember sirens. I remember news. I remember losing hope. I remember first photos after deoccupation of Kyiv region. I remember how forgotten friend of my dad suddenly called him saying that his city is fully destroyed, his neighbour right on his eyes was exploded attempting to get into the car and evacuate.

I remember my first mental breakdown. How I was crying in the darkness, but quietly so no one would notice.

We were able to return home three months later. But we are just lucky. Someone would never return. Someone is not even alive to see their home again. Someone’s home is forever destroyed.

I was lucky that I have secured my place at foreign university before war, but my whole family is still in Ukraine.

War is not over at all. 20% of Ukraine is occupied. So many displaced civilians, so many deaths. No one could even count, we do not have any access to bodies. Only way to identify is to deoccupy and find mass graves. No other means. Children are suffering from PTSD even in such a young age. Almost in every city, big or small, you would find graveyards covered in Ukrainian flag, grave of the soldier.

Maybe media does not talk that much of us, but it doesn’t mean that everything is alright. Avdiivka is destroyed, right now operation searching for people under debris of the civilian house after attack is undergoing.

And this is happening all the time.

Who was punished for Olenivka? Who was punished for destruction of Kakhovka Dam? Who was punished for all fully destroyed cities? Who was responsible for all that absolutely atrocious videos torturing Ukrainian soldiers?

Please, remember, Ukraine is still on fire. People are still dying. Soldiers cannot even counterattack because they do not have enough ammo, just for protection. Information war is also waging, sharing all that misinformation, Nazi narratives, russian propaganda.

Remember.

Help.

Share.

russia is a terrorist state.

Glory to Ukraine.

Glory to the Heroes.