#for fun tag the same people with harder words and see if they choose the hard one or the easy one

[wereflamingo-in-thai-dramaland]

@itwoodbeprefect tagged me in a WIP game!! Thank you!

rules: tagger gives a word, then for each letter of that word you share an excerpt from your WIPs that start with that letter.

The word I got is WORD!

From that one Home School snippet that I love but it's written like it should be part of bigger fic in the series and idk which fic yet:

Would it be cheating if Tibet just threw some insults at Jean once in a while, just to be a good pal? Preferably without Mork present, though. Jean shivers. That was such a bad idea, he can't believe he did that. He really is getting pathetic. Fucking monogamy fucking up his sex life.

From the ThameJunPo kinky qp-ish kinda-triad fic I started (specifically the origin story part of it):

“Or did you want to watch?” Po found himself saying. And then he clarified, because he didn’t want to scandalize Thame, who was already going rigid against his side: “The movie. Do you want to watch it with us?”

From that one flashback era HSF fic I started before I even shipped them, which features horny, no-boundaries Saint and (for now) disinterested Shin:

“Really?”

Shin just raises his eyebrows at him, and then takes off his shirt.

Saint freezes in place. “Shit,” he says, “Oh, shit.” He opens his mouth to say more, but nothing comes out, because they're right there, and Shin is going to let him—He can't deal with this.

Shin rolls his eyes. “You've seen me shirtless before.”

“Yeah, but I didn't know you'd take it off now,” Saint whines. “I was not prepared.”

Shin snorts. “Did you just mean through the shirt? Wow, low maintenance.”

From the same fic, because R and D were both difficult letters, though idk if this part will make it into the final fic (but then I'm not sure about the previous one either):

“Don't use the puppy eyes when you're begging for sexual favors.”

“It's not a sexual favor,” Saint argues. “You don't have to do anything, so how can it be a favor?”

“Oh really?” Shin is clearly not buying it. “So you don't want my attention? I can just scroll my phone?”

He starts saying no, because of course not, but then he stops himself, because... that's actually kind of interesting. “You know what?” he says. “Sure. You can scroll your phone. Pay me no mind, I'll just be doing my thing over here.”

I'm tagging @dropthedemiurge, @thepancakelady, @non-binarypal7 , @ablazenqueen, @doyou000me, and you know what, that's enough people. Tag everyone else for me when (if, no pressure) you post yours 😄

I'm a helpful person, so you get a word made out of letters that would have been easy for me: WHAT

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Potionology Tutoring

SUMMARY: How would it be if they were assigned by Professor Crewel to help you with your potionology lessons?

CHARACTERS: OB Students (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia & Malleus)

TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader 

WORD COUNT: An average of 300 words per character.

COMMENTS: People seem to like mine Broom Flying Tutoring post, so I decided to do the same with Potions. I hope you enjoy this one as well. ;)

CONTEXT: It is normal and very useful for first year students to be helped by their older peers from the same dorm. Unfortunately you're not that lucky since you're the only student in your dorm.

Professor Crewel can see that you are a hard-working pup, but not having magic also makes you need to work harder than others. So he decided to give you a little treat. He will assign someone to help you. But not one of your troublemaker friends. Someone that could actually help you.

Professor Crewel choose Riddle for two reasons: first because he is one, if not the best student in the class. And second: you told him that Riddle had already offered to help you other times.

As with any other school work, Riddle is a strict tutor. But he's more patience to you than he is to his Heartslabyul students. He understands that not having magic hinders your learning. And the more he sees that you're making an effort, the nicer he'll be with you.

He will warn you before you make a mistake when making a potion. And then he'll tell you to pay more attention.

If you say that potions are like cooking, he will disagree. But if thinking like this helps you in potionology, then he will encourage you to think differently from him on that point.

If the potion requires you to do something like mix it in a specific way, he will stand behind you and guide your hand with his. He will start by doing this because he thinks it will help you, and only halfway through the process will he realize what he is doing. he'll try to put it out of his mind so as not to spoil the lesson.

If you fail to make the potion, he will not be irritated, unless it failed due to your inattention. He'll be more disappointed. But he will tell you that he can continue to tutor you if you want to improve. But he also warns you that the longer it takes for you to get better, the stricter he will be to you.

If you end up making the potion successfully, he will smile proudly at you and congratulate you. He will tell you that it is very rewarding to have a student like you. He is genuinely happy for you. And he'll offer to continue tutoring you, as seeing you succeed made him feel so good.

Professor Crewel choose Leona for two reasons: first because he is one, if not the best student in the class. But second: being good at potions isn't enough to pass his class. So, he's going to force Leona to do this to make up for his absences.

Leona is the best worst teacher ever. He's the best because he's really good at potions, but he's the worst for the way he "tries to teach you". He will constantly remind you that he's only doing it because he has to. But still he will teach you correctly.

He will not warn you before you make a mistake when making a potion. He'll enjoy watching the potion get all over your face. If he is in a good mood he can still say: Are you sure about that, herbivore?

If the potion requires you to do something like mix it in a specific way, he’ll stand behind you and guide your hand with his. And he will know perfectly well what he is doing with you. If he feels bold maybe will whisper in your ear. If he has to be there, at least he'll have some fun messing with his herbivore.

If you fail to make the potion, he’ll be annoyed. You're giving him so much work. But if you look also upset with yourself. “*Sigh* Oi, don’t be like that. Nobody learns the first try. And you don't even have magic. We’ll do it like this, I keep teaching you until you achieve the minimum, but I will need to be rewarded.” He smirks.

If you end up making the potion successfully, he'll smile at you and say you were better than he expected from a herbivore. He’ll "thank" you for not giving him to much work.

Professor Crewel didn't choose Azul. He volunteered himself. Crewel didn't bother asking how the hell he knew about that and just accepted it because he was an excellent student and saved him work.

And you knew that wasn't a good sign! You are absolutely sure that he will want something in return! You know him. And you were right. The problem is that, after several failed attempts to convince you that he was doing it out of the kindness of his heart, he ends up saying that he still doesn't know what he wants from you. He was just hoping to make you owe him one.

He will be extremely friendly with you, just as he is with his other "clients". But if you have a crush on each other, you can take advantage of it to tease him. He can be very good with business, but in terms of making someone blush you have the upper hand on him.

If the potion requires you to do something like mix it in a specific way, he’ll stand behind you and guide your hand with his. But not without his heart starting to beat slightly faster. Only you to do this to him. But he is confident in his skills and therefore knows that he is showing you his best side.

If you fail to make the potion, he’ll be in an even better mood. Because the more you need him the biggest the favour he can ask of you. Be worried and careful.

If you end up making the potion successfully, he'll congratulate you and say how proud he is of you. What a wonderful student you are. And, of course, if you still need tutoring he'll be more than glad to help you... Now, the subject of payment...

Professor Crewel was thinking of Housewarden. But Asim? Absolutely not! The Vice Housewarden of Scarabia on the other hand was a great candidate. But he had to assure Jamil that he would get someone to look after Kalim in the meantime.

He is indeed an excellent teacher. He is patient, explains things well, gives useful tips, etc. If you notice that he's even enjoying it and you ask about it, he can tell that is for a mix of things. First: you're a good student and much easier and more rewarding to teach than certain someones. Which in turn lets him get some rest and he is extremely grateful to you for that.

If the potion requires you to do something like mix it in a specific way, he’ll stand behind you and guide your hand with his. And if we mix him being in a good mood with having a crush on you, he is able to say some sweet things in your ear.

If you fail to make the potion, he will not be mad or annoyed. After all he tutors Kalim a lot of times. And he would choose to help you over him anytime. In fact, come to think of it, if that means he has to be with you more often and get more rest from Kalim, this is the best case scenario for him.

If you end up making the potion successfully, he'll congratulate you and praise you for being such a good student. And thinking of the same reasons as above, he will offer to continue tutoring you whenever you want or need to.

Professor Crewel choose Vil because he is one, if not the best student in the class. After all, to become the Housewarden of Pomefiore a student must be able to make the deadliest poison out of all their peers.

He’s a strict teacher, no surprises there. Actually, he's really similar to Crewel. with you don't know if it's a good or a bad thing. The problem is that in addition to criticizing your technique for making potions, he will also criticize your lab coat and probably other clothing and stuff. But will also give you tips to improve on both.

The fact that he's so good at potions and, worse, knowing it, makes him more cocky than usual.

If the potion requires you to do something like mix it in a specific way, he will verbally explain how to do it and you will have to be able to do it yourself. If you pout a little while you're wiggling and he notices, he'll wait until you succeed on your own, and while you're distracted by being proud of yourself, you'll be caught off guard by a kiss on your cheek. “Isn't it better to succeed all by yourself?”

If you fail to make the potion, he’ll be disappointed. He's pretty sure the potion failed because you weren't paying close enough attention. That's why Professor Crewel has given you a tutor. But, like him, Vil also sees potential in you, so he offers to continue tutoring you. But you have to pay more attention!

If you end up making the potion successfully, he'll smile and congratulate you. Probably will give you another "well done" kiss on the cheek. And will say if you ever need a tutor again to talk to him. But only after you've tried it yourself and are really struggling.

Professor Crewel choose Idia for two reasons: first because he is one of the best student in the class. And second: he always has problems getting Idia into group work, maybe it could be different with you and he can finally evaluate this parameter of his.

He is very relaxed about potionology itself. This is child's play for him. Which also triggers his cockiness. But unlike with other Housewordens, this doesn't intimidate you. In fact he is more intimidated by you when he sees you mad at him for talking to you like your a loser. “Fine, fine, I'll stop... D-don't look at me like that...”

If the potion requires you to do something like mix it in a specific way, he’ll verbally explain how to do it. And if you still can't do it (or pretend you can't to see what he does) he'll be like "Here, I'll show you." and will stand behind you and guide your hand with his. Only to realize what he just did and walk away from you with the tips of his hair pink.

If you fail to make the potion, he will laugh at you and then regret it when he sees your face. “He he he. Sorry, sorry. I don't remember the last time I've teach a noob. It's kinda funny.” you keep glaring at him sullenly. “O-okay, w-what about we keep trying on other day? But you have to convince Grim-shi to let me pet him, and then you can unlock a better Idia-sensei mode.

If you end up making the potion successfully, he'll look glad and relieved. If you ask “You really didn't want to do this, did you?” he'll be like “Meh, it's not so bad. You're not like those annoying extroverts. So, I don't mind be with you.” if you smile at him, pink hair tips “B-but if you ever need to do it again, let me know with like 24 hours notice or something.”

Professor Crewel choose Malleus because he knows how you two get along (everyone at school knows). And it's hard to evaluate him in group projects when almost everyone is intimidated by him. Maybe you can solve this.

He cannot, nor does he try, to hide how happy he is to be working with you. He could teach you well, if he weren't more interested in seeing how you learn and the mistakes you make.

The first time you make a mistake he will scold you in a stern, frightening way. Only to later say he was joking and you have nothing to worry about. “Don't scare me like that, Tsunotarou!” and he will laugh.

If the potion requires you to do something like mix it in a specific way, he'll watch you, amused, until you realize you're doing it incorrectly. And only when you ask him to show you how it's done he’ll stand behind you and guide your hand with his. You can feel that he is careful in holding and guiding your hand. Humans are fragile to him and you are both fragile and dear to him. he must be careful with his strength.

If you fail to make the potion, he’ll seem completely indifferent to it. After all, you were already having difficulties, he didn't think you could overcome them so soon. And he will happily offer to continue tutoring you.

If you end up making the potion successfully, he’ll look shocked at first. You managed to make this potion with just that tutoring time? And without magic? What an amazing human you are! You've never seen anyone look at you with so much pride. Please invite him to join you more often and watch you improve.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[whats-her-quirk]

hot chocolate

jean kirstein x fem!reader rating: M (my blog is 18+, minors do not interact) warnings/tags: Fluff, comfort, mention of past breakup, Christmas, friends to lovers word count: ~700

Adorable dividers by @saradika

“Did you know that the elf with the glasses is the same guy who played Ralphie in A Christmas Story?” The movie is already starting as you carefully return to the living room with two mugs of hot chocolate.

“Is not,” Jean chuckles. He carefully accepts his mug before slorping some mini marshmallows off the top.

“I’m serious.” You settle in on the couch next to him before taking your first sip. “When Buddy says he’s only made 85 Etch-A-Sketches, the guy who tells him he’s behind is Peter Billingsley. Look it up on IMDB, I’m right.”

“Wait, you’re serious? How did I never know this?” Jean cradles his mug to his chest and squints at the TV, waiting for Ralphie to appear in Santa’s workshop. He’s wearing a festive red and green turtleneck with cozy joggers, and the big bowl of kettle corn he brought over sits on the coffee table between you.

It’s been a weird December. You would have said it was a bad one if it weren’t for Jean. It was supposed to be your first Christmas alone—the first since the breakup that shattered your world, miles away from the family you wouldn’t see until you flew out on the 23rd. You were bracing for a much harder month, but your friends, especially Jean, made it more than bearable. He made it light.

When you expressed doubt about putting up your tree alone, he showed up with a bottle of wine and a new string of lights in case yours were burnt out (they were). When you wanted to go see lights, he took you out for a drive in the ritzy neighborhood on town over, where you didn’t even know the good displays were. He let you make a mess in his kitchen decorating cookies and wrangled Connie and Sasha for an ice skating night all together, and now here he was, the week of Christmas, hunkered down for a movie night just because you said you were feeling a little down.

“Oh shit, that’s totally Ralphie. I can’t believe I never realized—”

“Thank you.” You set your mug on the table, half gone already despite how hot it still is.

He laughs. “I mostly believed you. I was just giving you a hard time until I saw it for myself.”

“No, I mean, that’s fine too. But I was saying…” You’re fumbling. “Thank you for hanging out with me so much. I really needed this.”

He shifts in his seat, leaning forward for another sip of cocoa when the liquid sloshes before setting down his own mug. “Of course. We’re friends.” He sounds a little nervous, uncharacteristically.

“It’s just—” Words you’ve been thinking for days, maybe longer, start to come forward, and you choose to let them. “It’s your Christmas too. There are other things you could be doing. Other people you could be with. Family or… whoever.”

“Well, yeah, but I… like hanging out with you. I always have fun. Even if you make me wear silly reindeer antlers in public.”

You knock his shoulder. “I did not make you.”

Jean rolls his eyes. “Fine, you’re right.”

You feel your face lighting up. “What’s that? Can I get that again?”

Jean’s own smile blooms, his eyes darting up and down your face, and then you feel it—heat and butterflies as he leans closer, breathing a laugh before hesitating, looking down his nose at your lips. Your chest pounds, but yes, you want this as bad as he does, and you seal your lips to his in a kiss that overtakes you. Jean inhales sharply, hands sliding up your arms to gently hold your shoulders. He tastes like chocolate and salt. After a few blissful moments, you pull back, your head spinning.

Your eyes flutter open, searching for his. You’re shaking, pleasantly surprised. “Friends, huh?”

Jean cracks up, pulls you back in, mumbles against your lips. “Maybe more.”

[catboyloon]

PINNED POST READ THIS HELLO HI

THIS IS A NSFW BLOG. THEREFORE 18+!!!! so if you're a minor or an ageless blog either get the fuck out or block this blog. or i will block YOU on sight. nothing personal its just for the safety of us both.

also i'm 18, my bday is in septummyber- i mean september. also some weight info:

starting weight: 133lbs current weight: 137.4lbs goal weight: more and more until it's a lot harder to get up, then maaaybe i'll stop :3

anyway. rest my dni is the same as my main blog, no proshippers (i hate incest!! :D and pedophilia!! i hate them both!!!) no xenophobes or bigots etc etc you get the idea.

also this should go without saying but their body, their choice. respect people even if they're hot or not hot. if someone wants to lose weight, let them. if someone doesnt wanna do kink anymore, respect that. don't be a creep. don't fetizhize and objectify random people just because their body appeals to a kink you have.

id prefer if people don't mention/say my main blog on here, just feels like i should keep them separate but if you're here, you can ask me privately for it or you already know my main soooo

the rest of this is optional but will probably be useful. have fun but also i like asks and talking so feel free to hit me up

anyway things you will likely see here:

Inflation (belly & body, also SAFE/NON-FATAL popping. maybe some breast/ass/etc expansion but mainly tums & their whole bods. also like, being inflated with anything almost. air, water, just pump me man make me Round and Full)

Weight gain/feedism (feeding/eating a lot, rapidly gaining weight, forcefeeding, just being fat as fuck as a sex thing)

Burping/hiccups (burps are hot as fuck to me and hiccups are cute)

other things that i'm not into but can't go on my main because they're nsfw; usually just things i find really funny or interesting. like weird kinks that i'm not into (if not turn me off)

also only gonna tag stuff i'm not into as "#not my thing but still cool" so. im not gonna organize THAT much for reblogging things, sorry

things you likely will not see:

pregnancy (not into it)

vore (i don't think i'm into it but it might be good I DON'T KNOW. but i mainly am not into it)

farting (actual turn off sorry)

anything permanent in a forced way (but "permanent" as in "they're choosing to keep themselves like this" is fine)

noncon/dubious consent (I think consent is hot because i mean. the fact they actually WANT something makes them getting it hotter i think. free use can be hot but i think that's different)

oviposition/eggs i think

uneven/specific bodypart expansion (e.g. no really huge feet or lips or anything)

head inflation/uber (i think the puffy eyes are scary. sorry)

unsafe/fatal/permanent popping (also kinda scary but also like. why would you want that)

healthplay/anything fatal at all (i think the words morbidly obese are hot but i 1. do not believe that the fat itself causes health issues but rather your diet does that, and 2. i would rather actually not have health issues from being fat. i just wanna take up a room then a house then a parking lot with my flab man i don't wanna do that in a hospital room)

as for the tags!

crrk.txt for text posts/just me talking, may not always be kinky crrk.png for art i post to here not my thing but still cool for anything nsfw i reblog to here that i'm not into (so, not inflation or fat) but find neat anyway tummy tuesday for, well, what do you think bellypix for, obviously, pics i take of my tummy :3 irl for anything irl, like a video of me blowing up like the balloon i am afterdark-shitposts for nsfw memes/shitposts i make, not always made to be horny but always nsfw (or too suggestive for my main) also probably gonna tag stuff with a video or audio as "video"/"videos" and "audio" like my main. same for asks, "asks" and "anon asks" just for sorting

okay that's it. enough yapping from me, anyway like my main blog you can see when this was last edited by looking in the tags

[pmwritesandpoems]

A Timeless Hogwarts Legacy: Enchanted to Meet You (1/16)

Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy Main Title: A Timeless Hogwarts Legacy Pairing: Ominis Gaunt/Original Female Character Tags: Romance; Hurt/Comfort; Angst; Fluff; Friendship; Mutual Pining Chapters: 16

Summary: Long graduated and in the cusp of young adulthood, Evelyn Rose, the "Hero of Hogwarts" finds an even harder trial to conquer than defeating evil goblin and protecting unknown dangerous ancient magic, when she sees certain Salazar Slytherin's descendant who she fallen for standing at the altar with someone else. Little did she know, a legacy she gained from Hogwarts will manifest itself even in conditions that make it nearly impossible to exist, and help her.

Notes: I posted this on my AO3. But decided to post this here as well.

This work is fully inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album, Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) AND is my first fanfic for...ever?

Chapter: 1/16 Title: Enchanted to Meet You Word Count: 5,952

Reminder:

I won't mention the main character house, you could choose her house yourself

You could change my original character name with yours, I’ll try my best to not mention her skin, hair, and eye colour so you could match it with your own. 

I  am no expert of the Victorian era, the use of the calendar system, etiquette, and many other things from the said era are changed as I see fit to support the story. Several insertions of modern era culture will be present as well to support the story.

You could also read this on AO3.

I tried my best to write this despite the fact that English is not my first language. I hope you’ll still understand and even have fun reading this!

p.s. please don't hesitate to comment if you'd like!

1. Enchanted to Meet You

Present Time, Spring 1895

Evelyn Rose had no intention of coming in the first place. She dreads the day she received the letter and even tried to burn it as soon as she saw his handwriting on the envelope. But alas, here she is. The cold white marble and green carpet greet her footsteps as she enters the foyer of the grand mansion with her head down. 

“You could at least elevate your chin so that everyone may admire your beauty.” 

Evelyn startles as she hears someone talking beside her all of a sudden. She turns and sees a brown-haired gentleman to her left, who is smiling warmly with the same freckles and bright brown eyes she has known for more than four years. Her shock quickly turns into happiness.

“Sebastian!” She exclaims and smiles at the brunette. “Long time no see, old friend.” 

Oh, how she misses him. It has been a long time since they met in person, with all her duties as the liaison officer for the goblin office in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and his duties as the matron apprentice at St. Mungo’s, they find it hard to even just send owls to each other. Several letters that they had exchanged in the past three years since their graduation are not enough to compensate for her longing for her brother through friendship. It’s also been years since she visited Feldcroft. So, Evelyn follows her whim and hugs him tight, not minding the social etiquette.

“Oof,” Sebastian huffs as he feels Evelyn’s sudden hug, to which he replies happily. With his arm wrapping her like a cocoon, Sebastian says to her hair, “I miss you too, Eve.” Evelyn felt how much he misses him too through their hug. 

After a while, Sebastian begins to move his arms away. “I should let you go now, since people are staring,” he explains.

“They’re probably searching for the rings on our hands with that spectacle.” Evelyn chuckles and reluctantly lets Sebastian go. “Sorry for that,” She says sheepishly, tucking a rogue strand of her hair in.

“No need to be sorry. And they won’t find it since it’s not us who are getting married today.” Sebastian chuckles and teases, “And also, if I my memory doesn't fail me, I have not and have no plans to bind myself to someone till the last of my breath in the near future.”

Evelyn’s heart stops for a second after she hears Sebastian. To be reminded again of where and for what she came here today is rather painful. She takes a deep breath and answers sadly, “Yes, it’s not us.”

“Hey, don’t be so glum.” She feels Sebastian’s hand on her shoulder. He tries to cheer her up. “At least it’s not a bad venue, huh?”

Evelyn sighs and tries to smile as brightly as she can. She looks up and finally appreciates the foyer in its full glory. In awe, she asks, “I thought... Didn’t Ominis say that his family fortune was depleted rather quickly?”

Sebastian shrugs. “Maybe his engagement brings new fortunes to the empty treasury?”

“Well, it’s certainly beautiful.” Evelyn’s eyes scan the foyer with astonishment. It is grand, very grand that Evelyn feels she has been transported to royalty’s castle. The rich sure live in a very different way. The enormous sparkling chandelier above nearly makes her forget the pain. But it all comes back as her gaze moves down and lands on an enormous door. It is made from wood and carved with beautiful snakes and ivy patterns with a familiar family crest in its center.

Evelyn and Ominis were standing on the shore of the black lake. They stood in silence, the gentle ripples of water brushing over their shoes. 

With his delicate skin caressed by the warm sun, Ominis appeared ethereal. She could practically see how beautiful the constellations of beauty marks on his left cheek were, connected by his faintly visible veins, as she stood to his left.  He was both beautiful and terrifying at the same time. The classic traits of Gaunts, enchanting yet dangerous, as Sebastian had said. 

Evelyn broke the silence after she saw Ominis holding something between his right thumb and forefinger. “Such a shiny ring you got there, Ominis.” She said softly.

Ominis’s lips curled in disdain. “More like a bloody ring.”

Evelyn didn’t miss the resentment in Ominis’s voice, but she decided to continue, “Is that yours?”

Ominis sighed, his voice becoming strained in sorrow. “It’s my late aunt’s.”

“Oh…”

Silence came between them once again. Evelyn should have guessed it when she saw the size of the ring. It was too small, even for Ominis’s slender fingers. It could probably only fit on his little finger. 

Ominis probably felt how intense her gaze was since he gave her a clearer view of the ring by moving it to his open left hand. Evelyn smiled and began to try to note all the details of the ring. Silently thanking Ominis’s sensitivity. It was clearly made of gold and had no jewel stones. But it could still be considered a beautiful ring, even in its simplicity. It has an engraving of a crest, which is a shield of scales with two snakes facing each other in its center and what Evelyn assumed to be thorny ivy tendrils on both its sides.

With her curiosity overcoming her guilt, Evelyn finally asked, “Is that your family crest?”

Ominis’s thumb touched the snakes on the ring. “Yes, it is.”

“Does every wizarding family have a family crest?” Evelyn asked in astonishment. In the muggle world, only noble houses wear crests. Perhaps the wizarding one was different? Perhaps everyone could have a crest.

“Most likely just the old ones.” Ominis shrugged. “Old rich ones.”

“Oh…” 

Ominis chuckled at Evelyn’s disappointment. To lighten up the mood, he then jokingly said, “Archaic, pretentious, racist, stick-in-the-mud ones.”

Evelyn giggled. “And your family is one of them?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Mine is one of the oldest ones.”

Evelyn turned herself completely towards the boy. She traced the engraving of the ring on his left open palm between them. “If you don’t mind me asking, what does it mean?”

“It represents everything I despise in myself.” Ominis said bitterly. He closed his palm, blocking Evelyn’s view of the ring. “Unquenched thirst for power and blood purity maniac.”

“Ominis, I—”

“No, I’m glad that you asked.” He cut Evelyn, opened his palm again, and continued sarcastically, “You see, we Gaunts believe that power is everything. Which of course, is perfectly consistent with the concept of blood purity. We believe that being a pureblood means one has a higher position in life than others and wields more power over them. Not to forget, there’s also a special ability that only we have, courtesy of our cunning ancestor, Salazar Slytherin. The ability to speak parseltongue, which you already know, I unfortunately inherited, is like the oil for our already scorching ego.” 

Using his left thumb, he pointed to the snakes in the centre of the ring. "The snakes and scales on the shield signify it. Our noble way of life and the reminder of our great founding father,” He in disgust.

“With our vital role in wizarding society as the direct descendent of one of the most powerful wizards in the world, we have to keep the belief alive and our blood lineage clean," Ominis added. “We must preserve our ancestors' legacies while maintaining our authority over society.

“Like any other old barbaric family in the world, we do it by indoctrinating our children and practising inbreeding. We pride ourselves on how we teach our younglings about blood purity and the dark arts. We did it as soon as they got a wand from Ollivander to ensure that the propaganda was well embedded in their minds. Our method is unique, and no one else with a conscience probably agrees to it. But, it was extremely effective. We force our children to cast the curse they’ve learned on muggles. Killing two birds with one stone, I suppose. Teaching them about our rank in society and the power that comes with it.” He shrugged nonchalantly before he continued.

“The finest aspect is, the younglings didn’t have any choice in the matter. Since we also teach obedience and suppress their free will by making their own father curse them if they don't do as told. Their fathers also cursed them for showing weakness, like crying because they couldn’t bear to hear the screams of tortured souls for example. Screams that could be heard nearly every day in the Gaunt mansion. Especially from the dungeons. It made us Gaunts especially effective in producing a new batch of dark wizards in every generation—an accomplishment we Gaunts are immensely proud of.” Ominis ended with a sarcastic smile that sent shudders through Evelyn’s body. 

“I would be one of them if Aunt Noctua didn’t come to visit every summer.” He spoke again, his voice heavy with loss and despair.

Evelyn was too stunned to speak. Because of what Sebastian had told her, she already understood how horrible the Gaunt were. But listening to Ominis, the one who got through it himself? A hundred times more heartbreaking than it was before. She couldn’t stop herself from imagining how hard it could be for a child to go through what he did. A child was not supposed to get through that in the first place. She would’ve died if she had been in his place.

“Well, that's what the shield and ivy indicated,” Ominis added nonchalantly, perhaps feeling uncomfortable with the silence that had crept in. “It signifies our obligation to safeguard Slytherin's lineage and legacy.”

“I'm sorry,” Evelyn said, trying to keep the tears from welling up in her eyes.

Ominis sighed. “Don't be,” He said softly. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

"I made you recall something bad about her," Evelyn sniffed. "When today is meant to be the day you honour her memory," her voice cracked as the tears began to pour.

“Hey,” Ominis said, hastily putting the ring in his pocket as he heard Evely’s sob. He then frantically traced his way to Evelyn’s hands and held them tight. “It’s all right,” He said. With a soothing motion, his thumb began to massage her hand. “I was able to appreciate the good memories because of the terrible ones. You reminded me that she was the good in the midst of all the awful things that happened to me as a result of my family. You actually helped me honour her more.”

Evelyn couldn’t help herself. She hugged the boy with all her heart, wishing that her sympathy and condolences were conveyed through the physical touch. She buried her face in his chest, and cried.

Frozen in surprise, it took a while for Ominis to finally begin to hug her back. And when he did, waves of emotions came out of nowhere and flooded his heart. A tear fell, indicating how exhausted he felt from holding it all back. Letting himself finally feel his pain and grief, he hugged Evelyn tighter and cried as well.

“It is stunning. But not my style." Sebastian’s remark about the grandiose room pulls Evelyn back to the present.

She blinks to make the tears in her eyes dissipate. With a tight throat, she smiles at the brunette beside her and responds, “I see.”

“And I see that you’ve found the entrance to the greenhouse,” he continues, giving a knowing look to the glistening tears in her eyes. With an understanding smile, he gives his elbow to her, “May I have the honour to escort the most beautiful lady on this occasion?”

Evelyn begins to smile in earnest and links her hand through his elbow, “You may. But don’t let the bride hear what you just said.” 

With hushed giggles and laughs, she and Sebastian walk hand in hand to the massive door. Evelyn looks in awe as she sees it open on its own with no more than a low creak. It’s been almost five years since she first learned about magic, but it still amazes her every time.

“Was afraid I’d have to open that all on my own. Can’t embarrass myself in front of the lady now, can I?” Sebastian makes a playful remark, brightening up the atmosphere.

Evelyn responds with another joke as they walk through the door frame, “What? You don’t have the strength?” 

The sudden sweet smell of flowers and the warmth of the sun that she feels make her pause, bringing her and Sebastian to a stop. The plants surrounding her and the clear sky that is visible through the glass walls and roof make it feel more like she’s outside and less stuffy than before. She immediately relaxes. With her voice lighter, she continues with a smirk, “I could do that on my own.”

“Oh, I believe that.” Sebastian says. “You did stop the goblin rebellion all by yourself. O'great ancient magic wielder, I never question thy might.” He continues with an exaggerated tone. 

Sebastian’s response brings laughter to Evelyn. “Good. You should.”

Still hand in hand, they continue to walk down the aisle. Anyone who sees them probably believes they are the ones who are going to marry. Sebastian, as the jester he is, realises that and decides to crack another joke at it, which successfully makes Evelyn laugh once more. They step halts when they’re on the third row from the front. 

“Well, this is your seat, O'great ancient magic wielder.” Sebastian exaggerates his tone playfully, unlinks his elbow from Evelyn’s, and bows low.

Evelyn smiles at her friend's antics. “Couldn’t we sit together?”

“I am sorry firecracker, the groom told me in advance that his family had arranged the seat. I got the second row on the left,” Sebastian says, pointing to another bench that is very far away from where they are now.

Disappointment, followed by despair, immediately fills Evelyn’s chest. She will be alone, with Merlin-knows-who beside her, without any support, while watching the love of her life bind himself for eternity with someone else. 

The forlorn she feels can probably be seen clearly on her face, since Sebastian quickly touches her shoulder and says in a soft tone, “Hey, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Don’t be so glum.”  He rubs her shoulder, “We could waste ourselves away in sadness later at night, while also depleting the Gaunt’s liquor stash. I bet they have the best firewhiskey with their newly acquired fortune.” With his eyes looking straight into Evelyn's, he smiles, “Let's just try to be happy for him this afternoon.”

Evelyn shakes her head. “Yes, yes. You’re right.” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. As she opens her eyes again, she notices that the greenhouse is still practically empty. An idea comes to her mind. “There’s almost no one here but us and the house elves. Maybe you could just sit beside me. We might just say that this is the arranged seat.”

“Eve…” Sebastian chastises her.

Evelyn grabs Sebastian's right hand and holds it tight with both of her own. Desperately, she begs, “Please, I don’t know if I could make it through alone.”

"Fine," Sebastian says, seeing Evelyn's begging gaze. “I am already knee-deep in trouble, might as well dive in.” He then takes a seat on the bench, leaving a spot at the end for Evelyn.

She smiles gratefully at the brunette and takes the empty seat beside him. They are currently seated on the third-row bench on the right side, with Evelyn seated right next to the aisle. 

After feeling comfortable enough, Evelyn shifts her sight to the front. Her view of the arch is as clear as crystal. She notices how beautiful the arch of white flowers is, especially with the decorations beside and behind it, which make it appear like something out of a fairytale. It’s so beautiful that it becomes nauseating when she remembers that it will be the place, where the love of her life makes a lifetime vow with someone else, in a few minutes from now. And she will be watching it.

“I’m about to throw up.”

“Please don’t,” Sebastian rolls his eyes. “I didn’t bring any bags with me.”

“I could just puke at you.” 

“And ruin this crisp suit I ironed for three hours?” Sebastian says in offence.

In disbelief, Evelyn says, “You ironed your suit for three hours?”

“It’s a meticulous process,” Sebastian huffs, justifying his collar and blowing off imaginary dust on his shoulder. “And the result did not disappoint. You can be honest. I look handsome.” He boasts.

Now it’s Evelyn’s turn to roll her eyes. Ignoring the flaunting brunette beside her, Evelyn focuses on trying to contain her nausea. She closes her eyes and counts to eighteen.

One…

“I used to count to eighteen,” Evelyn said to the boy who was sitting on her right. They were both sitting on the edge of the upper astronomy tower, just behind the railing with their feet dangling.

“Why?”

Still closing her eyes, she answered the boy, “Well, my birthday is on the eighteenth of November, my house number is eighteen, and the legal age is eighteen. I guess I just like eighteen.”

Silence came until the boy spoke timidly, “My birthday is on the eighteenth too. The eighteenth of January.”

Opening her eyes in shock, Evelyn turned her head to the right all of a sudden, accidentally whipping the poor boy’s face with her hair, “Hey, it is today!” 

She then grimaced when she saw the boy rubbing his cheeks, “Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry!” Her right hand cupped his left cheek, trying to soothe the pain she caused. With her focus only on the handsome face in front of her, Evelyn didn’t even realise she kept her hands on his cheek longer than she should. A soft smile bloomed in her face as she gazed at his face—a smile that, sadly, he would never see. 

“Happy birthday, Ominis.” She continued to rub his left cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t congratulate you sooner.” 

She felt him smile and heard his shy voice in response, “Thank you. And It’s okay. There aren’t many who know anyway.”

Then, realisation came to Evelyn like a graphorn. She quickly dropped her hand from his cheek and put it above her lap, her head down with shame at her own behaviour—which she actually didn’t regret a bit. “I really am sorry.” She apologised again for being late to congratulate him and also, for her last behaviour. Thank Merlin he couldn’t see her right now. Her cheek was probably as red as a tomato. “You’ve been my friend for more than half a year, and I never asked. Sebastian has most likely prepared your present from a month ago and ready to hand it to you at breakfast later.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t have known, since I am currently distancing myself from him right now. As you know, I’m still trying to process all the feelings from…”

Evelyn could feel the sadness herself and didn’t need any more explanation. “Yeah, me too.” She sighed and took a deep breath. “From now on, I will be the first person who congratulates you every year.” She promised. 

“I would like that. If it doesn’t bother you.” Ominis answered timidly. Evelyn couldn’t help but smile as she saw his hopeful face.

“It doesn’t. I’d be happy too,” She said. Silence came again between them until Evelyn groaned, “Ugh, but I still don’t have any presents for you right now!”

“It really is okay, Eve,” Ominis said gently without any hint of disappointment.

“But I wanted to give you one!” She protested. Frustration could be heard as she continued, “And just my luck, I already promised Poppy I would help her after class this afternoon! I can’t go to Hogsmeade without breaking the curfew.” She sighed and began to sway her dangling feet back and forth, thinking hard, until suddenly... she jumped! 

Her mind lit up, she stood straight from her previous place at the edge of the astronomy observation deck. “But I still can go and come back in time if I use the floo powder and run as fast as I can after it!” She exclaimed and then started to rapidly question the startled boy beside her, “Ominis, what do you want? A cake? A book? THE new book of the Nightingale collection? Oh! You probably want something sweet. How about your favourite Honeydukes fudge? I could go to the—”

Evelyn stopped as she felt a hand holding her right arm. The hand then moved down carefully as if trying to find something. It stopped when it found Evelyn’s right hand and clasped it tenderly.  Evelyn was dazed, her mind still comprehending what had just happened. THAT was out of the blue. She had reason to cup his cheek and quickly withdrew her hand. But THIS? 

She heard Ominis chuckle and say, “I am grateful that you’re willing to break the curfew for me. But…” He trailed off as he pulled her back down. She followed the tug, her gaze focused only on their intertwined hands, and sat in her previous place beside him. “I have a better idea,” he continued.

“Wh-what?” Evelyn stuttered as she still felt his hand holding hers even after she sat. His rather rough but warm hands enveloped hers. Her face couldn’t be more red.

“Let me use your technique to calm down.”

After hearing his request, Evelyn's gaze moved to his face, just to see a bright smile adorn it. That caused her mind to become blank. “Huh?” 

Ominis chuckled. “Would you mind if I used your count to eighteen technique whenever I needed to calm myself down? As my birthday gift?”

“W-Why?” Evelyn asked in confusion. She really didn’t have a single idea why he preferred such a gift.

“I just like eighteen.” He shrugged and then rubbed his thumb on her hand, “Like you.”

Evelyn's brain refused to work as she felt his soothing touch, “Uh...huh?” 

“O…kay?” 

Seeing Ominis’s eyebrow raised with concern after he heard her dumb response woke her dead brain. Clearing her throat, and trying as best as she could to not think about their still entwined hands, Evelyn answered with more certainty, “Okay. I wouldn’t mind.”

“Good.” He smiled. “If I may suggest, you probably should start to count now. I could feel and hear your heartbeat accelerating at an alarming pace.” He chuckled. “I can’t have you become brain-dead every time I do this.” Ominis raised their clasped hands.

Evelyn laughed out loud, and he quickly joined. Swaying her dangling feet back and forth, she felt her heart full as the wind breezed through her hair softly, her hand still holding his.

Seventeen…

Eighteen.

A pretty annoying complaint from her left side makes Evelyn open her eyes. It turns out the source is an old lady, whose seat—from what Evelyn can gather from her seemingly never-ending complaints—should have been the one Sebastian is currently occupying. The old lady continues to show frustration as Sebastian tries to explain how he got the different instructions when he entered the greenhouse—which obviously is a lie—and insists on sitting beside Evelyn. 

“I am sorry madam, but I just got the instruction to sit here. I can’t move freely since I’m afraid it would insult the host.” Sebastian says politely.

Out of the blue, the old lady opens her folding fan with such force. Evelyn’s eyes widen in surprise. She never thought a fan could be so threatening. The old lady can probably cut through anything by doing that. Shuddering, Evelyn tries as best as she can to avoid the fan and tries to protect herself with her purse.

 “Well, I was instructed to sit here as well!” The old lady says, fanning herself in annoyance. “Who are you, young man? And who told you to sit here?!” 

Still in a polite tone, Sebastian answers, “I was supposed to sit beside Phineas Nigellus Black.” He then pulls a long face, “But the butler suddenly told me that my seat had been moved here.”

“Phineas?”

He nods, “Yes, madam. The butler said he’s sorry for the inconvenience and asked me to relay that the reason for the absurd last-minute change is because Profes-uh, I mean, Mr. Black himself, asked to sit beside you.”

Smooth Sebastian, smooth.

“Phineas Nigellus Black asked to be seated beside me?” The old lady responds in a surprised tone.

“Yes, madam.”

“Hmph. Finally. He should have done this since the beginning.” The old lady then huffs and closes her fan. “Well, then. Farewell, young man.”

If Evelyn could, she would applaud Sebastian’s successful trick as hard as she could. She puts her purse back on her lap as the old lady begins to walk away. She then sees the old lady take her ‘designated’ place and open her fan with such force once again. Evelyn flinches at the sound. 

Shaking her head in disbelief, Evelyn turns and asks the scoundrel beside her, “Seriously, Professor Black? Our Headmaster Black?”

“Yes, I noticed the Black family crest brooch on her sash.” Sebastian points to the old woman again. “It is pure luck that I was supposed to sit beside Professor Black in the first place and she wanted to sit beside him.”

Evelyn smirks, “Pure luck indeed.”

In offence, Sebastian exclaims, “Hey! My quick thinking saved you from hearing her complaints and nonsense for the whole event.” He narrows his eyes at Evelyn, “You should be grateful.”

Evelyn decides to tease him more, “Yeah, and I saved you from sitting awkwardly beside our beloved headmaster for at least one hour.”

“I guess we’re even then.” Sebastian shrugs and smiles.

The steps and murmurs of people who start to come into the greenhouse and sit in their own places distract Evelyn from continuing her teasing. She realises that the Gaunt really invites many ‘important’ families, as she sees the ladies and gentlemen wearing sashes and their house crest pins proudly with their bejewelled gowns and suits that are probably worth more than what Evelyn makes for a year. She then sees her simple dark gown.

Refusing to feel the creeping insecurity, Evelyn decides not to think about it and continues to tease Sebastian. She whispers as everyone begins to quiet down, “You should research how you can have so much luck in your life. With everything that’s already happened, you could be the embodiment of liquid luck.” She gasps exaggeratingly, “Or... Did you have an endless stash of it?” And continues, “Well, well, well, Mr. Sallow. Why didn’t you tell—”

She stops all of sudden when she hears the soft clinks of the piano. She turns her head to the enormous door behind her, which opens slowly.

Sebastian also turns and then comments proudly, “Here comes the groom.” 

Evelyn’s mind goes blank as she sees him standing under the door frame. He seems ethereal, standing alone with the lights surrounding him like a halo. No words could fathom how stunning he is. His black suit frames his tall, lean body, and accentuates his broad shoulders perfectly. His neatly styled blond hair draws attention to his cheekbones, allowing his constellation of beauty marks to show through. Making him even more beautiful than before. 

And his eyes—those pale blue eyes that Evelyn desperately wants to forget—still make her feel butterflies when she sees them. It is definitely safe to say that Ominis is still as attractive as he was when they first interacted. Or even more.

She gulps and whispers, “Here he comes…”

Autumn 1890

Evelyn gulped and whispered, “Here he comes…” This was certainly not how she imagined her first conversation with the Slytherin boy to be.

“You’re the new fifth year. Did you just come from the Undercroft?! How did you get in there?!”

Evelyn flinched at his high tone. It took a while before Evelyn could answer him. “That…room’s called, ‘the Undercroft?’ Ah…Well…I was exploring and suddenly found myself in a strange passageway—”

“Don’t lie to me. No one ‘stumbles’ upon that room. Sebastian told you, didn’t he?”

Evelyn sighed. So much for lying. 

Ominis’s voice got sharper than it was before, “You breathe a word about this place to anyone, and not even your precious Professor Fig will be able to help you.” 

Evelyn’s eyebrow shot up when she heard the threat. Is the room that secret?

“My father is friends with the Headmaster.” He boasted. “I’m not afraid to exploit that connection if, I, need to.”

Evelyn took a deep breath and answered honestly, with the hope that she didn’t break his and Sebastian’s friendship or her own chance to be his friend over this incident. “Trust me, Ominis. I won’t say a word. And Sebastian is a good friend. You shouldn’t immediately assume the worst of him.”

High in offence, Ominis responded, “I don’t need you to tell me about my oldest friend! Thank you very much.”

Evelyn panicked, “Ominis, I just meant—”

“I know what you meant.” Ominis cut her off with a sharp tone. “Sebastian gets himself in enough trouble. He doesn’t need your help.” With that, Ominis walked away to the Undercroft entrance and murmured, “Sebastian is going to get an earful about this.”

Evelyn snorted all of sudden, hearing his plan to scold the brunette Slytherin was too much.

Ominis steps halted and turned his body towards her again, “Excuse me?!”

Hearing his insulted tone stopped Evelyn’s giggle for a moment. “It’s just—it’s funny.” She giggled a bit again. “I imagined how you would scold him, probably all afternoon, like a doting mother to her son.” 

Ominis looked dumbstruck at the giggling girl before him.

Evelyn then took a deep breath to calm herself, “I’m sorry, it’s just too funny.”

“Well, I am not amused,” Ominis said while crossing his hands in front of him.

“I never thought you were the doting mother of the relationship. It is funny,” Evelyn smiled softly. Even in anger, Evelyn still found the boy fascinating. “But also endearing.” 

The silence from flabbergasted Slytherin made her continue, “Which is another reason as to why I wanted to introduce myself to you since I first saw you at Charms.”

“You—“

“Yeah, but I never got to since Professor Ronen called me out of the blue when I tried to join your conversation with Sebastian about using accio on human beings.” Evelyn shrugged, “He gave me a lecture about how I am a special case as I started at Hogwarts as a fifth-year student and even promised to help me catch up with the rest of the class by giving me a ton of assignments! Can you believe that?” She ended with disbelief.

Evelyn didn’t give Ominis the opportunity to respond and continued to rant, “I am already having a hard time processing the ‘magic exists and you just don't know it cause you’re apparently a muggle’ shocking revelation! And don’t forget about the an—” Evelyn stopped herself as she realised she was beginning to spill all her secrets to him. To the boy who was threatening her just a minute ago.

“About the what?”

“Uh…I said too much.” Trying to move the conversation to another topic, she continued, “Anyway, I think you are right. We couldn’t use the summoning charm on human beings and since we would be doing it to their clothes instead.”

Ominis lifted his chin up, “Hmph. Of course I’m right.”

“And I also tried to introduce myself to you at the Defence Against the Dark Arts class. But, Professor Hecat also called me before I could catch up with you. You were gone when I finished talking with her. And don’t get me started on Herbology. Professor Garlick talked about how I should enjoy herbology as much as she did since I have a plant name as my last name, just like her.” Evelyn shuddered before continuing.

“Well, it is a fun class, but I am a bit bothered by the carnivorous plants such as the chomping cabbage. I prefer my vegetables to be as still and normal as possible. Well, normal in a muggle way.” She chuckled. “Professor Garlick talked and talked and talked and by the time she finished, I was the only one in class, besides her of course. And…the plants.

At potions, you looked so disappointed with your wiggenweld potion that I tried to cheer you up. But, again, someone beat me. Sebastian started to pull you out before I finally had the courage to do it. And I didn’t see you at flying class. Well, it was disappointing, but I guess that cannot be helped because of your…” Evelyn trailed off as her gaze moved to Omini’s eyes.

“Of my…what?”

She cleared her throat and said, “Your lifetime challenge.”

One of Ominis’s eyebrow perked up. “Well, that's a new perspective on my blindness.” 

Evelyn felt panic creep up. She was afraid that she had insulted him again. Her fear proved to be false when Ominis continued, “Although, I tried flying once. Since it was a mandatory class for first years.” He shrugged. “It was not too hard, I managed to lift off and land successfully on my first try.”

Astonished, Evelyn could only say, “Wow...”

Ominis chuckled and sarcastically said, “Yeah, ‘wow’ indeed.” He continued, “But I found that it was not my what I want to pursue. So, I didn’t attend the class anymore in my second year and beyond.”

Evelyn's brows furrowed, “I didn’t mean that I don’t believe you. It’s just…It’s a shame I couldn’t see you show off your skill on a broom.”

“Maybe you could,” Ominis shrugged. “If we do, become acquaintances. As I see that you desperately wanted us to become one, even though I cannot fathom a single reason why.”

Evelyn felt her blood creeping up to her cheek, “Y-yeah, it would be nice. To be acquainted with you.”

Ominis just smiled at her in response. And by merlin’s sake she felt her stomach flip all the sudden. She was only curious about his wand in the first place. There’s no indication that her relationship with him would be a stomach flipping and heart fluttering event! No, this is probably just a fluke.

But Evelyn’s eyes couldn’t go away from his smiling face. She couldn’t help admiring how his hair was so neat that it made him look like royalty. How she realised that he has a lot of beauty marks, especially on his left cheek. And how his eyes…his pale blue eyes that was like the misty morning on the beach.

“Let's start over,” Ominis said, waking Evelyn from her reverie. He then straightened his posture and formally asked, “Ms. Evelyn Rose, is it?”

Evelyn smiled and in a rush of courage, decided to tease him for his formality. With a pompous tone, she answered, “Yes. I am Evelyn Rose, the new fifth year student who made quite an entrance and became the talk of the school ever since.”

“Tone down your inflated ego a bit, Ms. Rose,” Ominis said with a chuckle. He then bowed his head a little, “Ominis Gaunt.”

“Enchanted to finally meet you, Mr. Gaunt.” Evelyn said with a smile.

“Enchanted to meet you too as well, Ms. Rose.” Ominis responded. Comforting silence accompanied them as they smiled at each other. Until Ominis cheekily continued, “Although, I must remind you again to not. Tell. Anyone. About the secret place you so stumble upon yourself.” 

Evelyn laughed. She hoped that this interaction was the very first page, not where her story with him line ends.

[takasgf]

Maine Coon and Ginger for any F/O in the cat ask game ♥️♥️

FREYA!!! HI!!! Thank you soso much for the ask!! ≽^•⩊•^≼ will do the 1st for R.ocket and the 2nd for Taka <3

Ginger: Who is the most intelligent? Who is the sensible one? Or do you share one braincell?

This question reminded me of a common "false friend" word type of situation - "sensible" in english is very close to "sensibil" in ro, which means "sensitive", which may be close to the term's meaning in english, but its not the same - i think sensible is more like.. emotionally intelligent? rational? Tangent aside, R.ocky is the more intelligent of the two, but thats a given, in the context of Morgen being deprived of most knowledge resources as she grew up. She was homeschooled, but by people specifically chosen by her father, that would give her his biased opinions as facts or censor/modify certain information. R.ocket definitely had a talk or two with her trying to convince her that "negative numbers", are , in fact, real - for example. He is very resourceful and informed, he can come up with solutions very quickly, he just knows a lot of stuff in general. I'm not sure I'd describe Morgen as sensible though. She can be pretty selfish and ignorant when it comes to other people, excluding her boyfriend. She's more inclined to choose the option that benefits her and those close to her rather than the logical/rational option. Honestly I'd say she shares one braincell with OG G.root of all people, when he was still alive at least T^T She's a lot more emotional and kind than R.ocket, but not necessarly in an intelligent way.

Maine Coon: Are you a stay at home couple, or do you like going on trips together?

Taka and Frog are all about exploring the world together. They want (and need) to experience the outside world, to help with their issues caused by self-isolation, so trips are a common occurance in their lives. They certainly enjoy their domestic cozy life at home - but there is so much you can do there. Frogeru is usually very enthusiastic and excited to try out new hobbies with Ishi, while he sees them as learning experiences. They prefer to go alone, just the two of them, but when they choose more entertaining/fun locations, they invite their friends to tag along !! im not upset at all that its getting harder and harder to write about ishigeru. i keep forgetting stuff. where did i go wrong

[wallflowerimagines]

Hi! I looove your posts! Thank you so much for sharing your writing!

I was wondering… could you maybe write about the Four Lords with a shy S/O that gets bold and defensive when someone insults the lords? or calls them names? And the Lord’s reaction to the S/O acting different? Dk if im explaining myself >.<

Again! Love your work! Have a great day!

We stan protective partners on this blog!!

Warnings: uh...insults? They're pretty over the top😅 Also swearing.

Alcina Dimitrescu

Honestly, Alcina is more than able to defend herself.

She's got a tongue like a viper, and the thickest skin imaginable. If you really want to hurt her feelings, you have to be someone whom she already respects to a certain degree, or she won't even be phased.

Still, when she leaves a room, there's always some idiot that thinks it's a smart idea to talk shit.

Maybe it's a maid, maybe it's a guest in the Castle, but either way you're not having it.

"God, you're annoying." There was a pause before they opened their mouth again, and you rolled your eyes. "No please, by all means, continue to share your lack of taste with the rest of us."

You disassemble this dumbass, starting small with comments about their personality (trying to keep it classy), but escalating the more they choose to double down on the comments.

Alcina comes back into the room to find you practically screaming at this asshole.

"Look, all you have accomplished here today is revealing that you are a fundamental disappointment on every possible level. My life is worse now that I've heard you open your mouth, you disrespectful, shit licking worm fucker."

Alcina is stunned. You do not give off "aggressive guard dog" vibes at all, yet here you are defending her tooth and nail. While she had seen brief moments of your inner strength and protective streak (mostly towards her daughters) she just...never thought you would do the same for her.

It's not because she doesn't trust you or love you! But nobody has ever done something like this for her before? Ever? She's never had anyone try to protect her--not physically, and not even verbally. She's been so independent for so long that it's... Strange to see you support her so openly.

She doesn't need you to do this for her, she doesn't even expect it, but you do it anyway for no other reason than the fact that you love her. You want people to give her the respect she deserves.

I'm going to be real here: Alcina has never been closer to swooning before in her life. You're overcoming your shyness because you believe in her so much-- it's not a gesture meant to be romantic, but Alcina can't help but see this as a massive statement of your commitment to her.

Seriously. This is such a massive thing for her that if proposals weren't already on her mind, she is mentally picking out a ring for you the minute this happens.

Then, of course, she glides into the room, kisses you until you're breathless and babbling, and smirks at the unfortunate peon who thought they could get away with insulting House Dimitrescu.

She's in such a good mood that she's considering going easy on the idiot. Maybe removing their tongue would be enough of a warning?

Donna Dimitrescu

You don't really know how it's possible but apparently some people don't like Donna Beneviento? Some people think she's scary and unpleasant????

Wild. Can't imagine what that's like.

The two of you are honestly the sweetest, most toothrottingly adorable couple-- blushing when you hold each other's hands, sneaking glances at each other across rooms, giving each other kisses and forgetting whatever was on your mind...

Honestly, anybody who's critical of your relationship with your girlfriend is just a hater. Fuckers can pound sand😤

Still, you are pretty shy, so it takes a lot for you to defend yourself if someone comments about you. It can take a lot of courage to stand up against rude remarks, and sometimes it's easier to walk away.

Defending Donna, on the other hand?

The minute someone even thinks about dismissing her, you are ready to throw hands.

"My lovely girlfriend already said no, meaning you're either deaf or too stupid to pick up on simple social cues," you purse your lips and give the rude and pushy Villager a patronizing once over. "You and your opinion are equally useless. Get the fuck away from us."

Donna blinks.

She... Was not expecting this??? At all?? You're so nice! You always tell her about your attempts to avoid confrontation! What's going on??? How did you get the guts to say what she's always wanted to say?

Meanwhile, Angie is LIVING.

The little doll chimes in to assist you with the verbal homicide, working as a tag team to absolutely murder this moron. She's half partner, half hype man, and is so excited to do this with you. Normally, she has to protect Donna all by herself, but she's relieved and reassured that you stepped in first.

'USELESS IS TOO NICE, THOUGH! THAT IMPLIES THEY AREN'T A POINTLESS, RANCID, LONELY FREAK. THEY LOOK LIKE THEY CRY WHEN THEY MASTURBATE.'

You high five Angie, still glaring daggers at the unfortunate villager.

The two of you continue to ream into the villager, while Donna hovers nearby.

As surprised as she is, she's also grateful. She's only really ever had Angie to help shield her from insults and disrespect (and occasionally inducing horrifying hallucinations that make people claw off their own skin), but having you in her corner makes her feel safe.

Not to get totally sappy, but you're like her knight in shining armor in a lot of ways. And the fact you two are so similar is really motivating-- She wants to one day be confident enough to return the favor. Until then, she's happy to watch her two favorite people have fun insulting some stranger ❤️

Salvatore Moreau

With you being so shy, Salvatore is surprised how often he takes the lead in your relationship.

He's not normally all that outgoing, but you seem to bring out a side of him that's very protective. Whenever you have a bad day he wants to bundle you up and keep you safe from the world.

If he so much as holds your hand you start stuttering and avert your gaze. It creates a feedback loop where you both get flustered, but Moreau has never felt steadier. Despite your shyness, you make sure he knows how much you love him.

You're sweet as pie and twice as kind--Salvatore is the luckiest man in the world, nobody can convince him otherwise 💕💕

So it comes as a total shock that when a passing fisherman spits in your path and calls him a freak, your entire demeanor does a 180.

Your posture straightens and you look the villager dead in the eye, "I don't believe anyone asked your opinion."

Salvatore: 😳

This is not the time, and he totally knows it, but, uh, something about your tone??? Really does it for him???

While he's attempting to process why exactly he's starting to short circuit, you proceed to verbally shred this person to bits with clinical efficiency-- nothing is off limits.

They might try to defend themselves, but it's useless. You do not let up.

"Ugly? Monster? Bitch your teeth are throwing gang signs, don't throw stones from your shining glass house."

You insult their appearance, what they're holding, their smell-- you get so fucking mean that you might even make them cry.

Moreau is just lost right now, trying hard to figure out how exactly you were able to gain all of this confidence so quickly.

He's not upset! In fact he's very flattered! But, he also doesn't want you to get into a fight with some unimportant stranger. (After all, if they so much as throw a punch, they're straight up dead. Moreau is a patient man, but he's not that patient. You do not hurt his partner and live to tell the tale.)

He may a healer but...

Eventually he steps between you and the fisherman in an attempt to deescalate the situation, but you just kiss him on the cheek and step around him, determined to make your point.

Blushing hard, Moreau lets you do what you want. What can he say? Fish man likes himself a protective partner 💞

Karl Heisenberg

Magnet Man is not the most social guy to begin with, so any opportunities you have to stick up for him are already pretty slim.

He mostly knows you as the shy, sweet, easily flustered partner that lets out a cute squeak every time he sneaks up to hug you from behind.

Karl's honestly happy just to spend time with you all alone in the Factory. It's not the best or healthiest mindset, but he'd be perfectly content to only ever see you for the rest of his life. Spending time with anybody else feels like a boring waste in comparison.

But occasionally, you do head out into town with him. Heisenberg wants you to be safe so he doesn't do it often, but running errands with you is a weakness of his. It's domestic in a way that he's never experienced before.

He likes it ❤️

What he does not like is the shopkeeper starting to give their opinions on the quality of your relationship with him.

Most insults Karl will let slide because he doesn't particularly care. However if anyone makes a comment on how scared (shy) you look around him, how you must be being threatened into being with him, how poorly Lord Heisenberg is treating you...he won't stand for it.

But before his fingers can even twitch towards his hammer, you snap.

"You're clearly the blindest cocksucker I've ever met--so wipe the cum out of eyes and mind your own fucking business."

Karl does a double take.

He's heard you curse before, but quietly. The words coming out of your mouth are WILD right now, he has NEVER seen you so angry. You're defending him with the aggression of a wild animal, and it's simultaneously HILARIOUS, but for some reason he's also getting a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest?

He doesn't need you to protect him like this, but seeing you blatantly argue how much you love and cherish him in public reassures him in a way he didn't know he needed.

Still, hearing you call the shopkeeper "shit for brains" is the funniest thing that's happened in years.

Heisenberg starts laughing, and the more you shout at the idiot, the harder he laughs. Is it weird how hard he wants to kiss you right now?

Eventually, he just has to drag you away, cackling as you continue to shout insults at the unfortunate shopkeep. There's got to be an alley around here for some good old fashioned privacy 💕

[5ummit]

Thank you.

The data collection method is not simply a minor difference of opinion. It's not just that I personally would have done it a little differently. Their data straight up does NOT represent what it claims to represent (in their own words: "the most popular relationship tags on AO3 in the period Jan-Dec 2024"). More importantly and why I've been so "mean" about it, centreoftheselights knows this and continually chooses to obscure that fact because they know that what it does represent is (1) much harder to explain, (2) of limited interest and use, and (3) wouldn't get them as much attention and praise.

When your data is being seen and used by millions of people to do analysis and draw conclusions about the current state of fandom (there are people loudly and publicly celebrating "the death of destiel" because it's not on The List despite it still being the 11th most written ship in 2024), it's no longer just a fun personal project where you get a pass to do whatever you want, misinformation and lies be damned. As OTNF said, someone in that position has an ethical duty to present their data as clearly as possible and help their audience understand what it actually says, not what they want it to say.

If I've got to be a little over-the-top and "mean" to get people to pay attention and prevent the further spread of misinformation, so be it.

And while we're responding to accusations of unnecessary meanness in the tags, I want to address this one too since I've seen multiple people, including centreoftheselights, argue these points and it drives me insane:

Sticking to the same erroneous and misleading methodology year after year for the sake of consistency is not a virtue. Will people always find a way to misuse stats? Of course. That's why it's the duty of the person presenting the data to do everything in their power to prevent that misuse and misinterpretation upfront and centreoftheselights has failed in that duty miserably. It's abundantly clear that 99% of people who see these stats do not understand what they actually mean (and why would they when the author is obscuring the truth at best and lying at worst). Any sane and decent person who saw this much confusion and misinterpretation would be apologetic and change their behavior. Instead, they brush off people's valid concerns and double down.

I absolutely do not condone harassment. Nobody should verbally assault, or god forbid, dox anyone over fucking fandom statistics. But questioning an extremely influential "statistician" and holding them publicly accountable for spreading misinformation, especially when they continually refuse to take accountability and show zero remorse for their actions, is not harassment.

Not really.

Part of being ethical in presenting data is helping your audience understand what the data actually say. It is blindingly obvious that the audience of the annual ship stats thinks they represent what fics got written that year. Since that's not the data being pursued, it ought to be in bold text at the top of every chart, not in an FAQ.

If the point is that net gain/loss is interesting, that should be telegraphed much more clearly.

Doing otherwise is tantamount to intentionally misleading the audience.

It is not mean to say so.

[writing-in-lesbian]

Salvation in Disguise

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff / Female reader (platonic) Tags: angst, cursing words, minor assumed violence, mentions of homophobia, legal age gap. Translations: pozhaluysta = please. Synopsis: When Wanda is leaving Westview, all its habitants felt relieved, left to their own devices to rebuild their old lives and to never heard from Wanda again. Except for you. You were left with an important decision. Her spell and control over your family gave you an escape from their control and mistreats towards you. So when she's driving away, you had a few minutes to save your life.

You were at the park having a rare time for yourself. Your parents allowed you to go and walk around before you have to go back for lunch. A rare occasion indeed, since you were 99% of your time with your parents and siblings, despite being legally out of age and with a well-paid job. 

For some reason, that seems normal to all your neighbors, living at your parent's house feels normal, but to you, there’s something else. You can’t explain it but you feel something is not quite right, but since you have so much fun when you’re with them you don’t question the nagging feeling in the back of your head.

With the day off, you decided to take on Agnes' advice and try that coffee shop in front of the park. Has it always been here? You can’t remember seeing it before, but with so many things happening lately and your constant daydreaming you think it might have been renovated and you never noticed.

You ordered the special of the day a “dirty chai” (which is just a chai latte with an espresso shot) and an integral muffin (balance) before going back to the park to do your favorite activity: people watching. 

Choosing your favorite bench in front of the fountain, you enjoy your small snack hoping to see at least from afar your favorite person in the whole town. Wanda Maximoff. 

You don’t remember when they moved here, maybe you never paid any attention to the people around your hood, but when it came to her? It was unavoidable not to. You formed a good relationship after the twins were born, helping her babysit for a few days after Monica went back to her hometown. The boys grew so fast (almost in the blink of an eye) but they were your favorite ones to watch. You even like Vision (was it an odd name? Sure) despite he being the one married to your crush. 

You were so engrossed and lost in your thoughts you don’t notice Wanda running into the park. It’s not until you heard a loud crash you turn your eyes to the sky and see it.

Agnes. 

Floating up there in the sky and throwing what it seems flashes of lights.

And Wanda. Beautiful and innocent Wanda.

Floating as well.

You see a purple light go straight to her.

You drop your muffin and get up from the bench so fast. “WANDA WATCH OUT!”

You’re not sure if she heard you but before you can yell at her again that same light hits you square on the chest, sending you a few meters away and impacting your body against a lamp post. Everything goes black.

… … …

”I’m not a witch. I don’t cast spells. No one taught me magic”

“Your powers exceed that of the Sorcerer Supreme. It’s your destiny to destroy the world” … … …

You hear a lot of commotion, you grunt and try to open your eyes. Everything is dark, a red mist covering the sky. You desperately look around for Wanda. You have a horrible headache, it’s as if something trapped in your mind is trying to get free. You try to get up but your body refuses, managing only to sit up.

You hear Agnes's voice up above you and when you look up at the sky, Wanda is there, surrounded by the red mist. It looks as if it's coming out of her. Her previous red hoodie is now a red top, on her forehead, there’s a tiara.

Standing there open-mouthed you can’t help but appreciate her beauty and strength. Even Agnes (did she call her Agatha?) Is it a weird kind of purple robe? You hear the twins and Monica around you, you even saw a flash of something red and white flaying on the other side of the park but you don’t have eyes for anyone else but Wanda.

A big explosion surrounds you and the park. And then everything goes black again, but you’re conscious this time. You know you should go back home, you’re not sure what’s happening but you’ll probably be safer at home.

There’s this nagging feeling again inside your head. At this point, it might explode from the pain. Migraines are nothing compared to this, but you can’t move. You are glued to your spot. You can’t stop outlook out for Wanda.

Suddenly, the sun comes out again (did it ever went down) and everything is bright. You see Monica in a black and white uniform in front of the twins, Vision s there as well but he’s….red? (You. Might have hit your head harder than you expect it. Westview was known for weird shit happening but this is extreme). 

When you see Wanda again, you see her talking to Agnes, and right before your eyes, her clothes change, her angry and scared voice goes back to being the overly sweet lady you once knew. You stand up and run back home despite your mind screaming not to.

// // //

It’s past midnight when you feel it. You were awakened by this flash of light bringing you back from dreamland gasping for air. 

Your mind is racing 3000 miles a second. Memories of your life coming up to you. 

Being yelled at, hit and slapped, punished by the person’s that should love you no matter what just for loving another girl. 

Been kept against your own will at the house.

The constant verbal and physical abuse. 

The loneliness of being taken far away from your friends and your ex-girlfriend and going to live in the middle of nowhere town when you were 16. A town so small no one would even think about looking out for you here. 

The hopelessness of not being able to run away because your father was a retired high-rank government officer. 

You check your thighs and wrists. The fading scars are there. The ones where you cut to numb the paint make you forget and maybe the final one that takes you out of this realm. 

You remember one day being up in your room crying yourself to sleep when your headaches started. You were no stranger to migraines, but this was worse, so bad you wanted to vomit. 

You ran to your bathroom. Next thing you know, you were having family dinners and going on Sunday family trips. 

And you knew everything was related to Wanda. Things changed when she came to town.

Wanda, the park, Agnes (guess is Agatha know). You suddenly put 2 and 2 together.

Wanda.

You need to see her.

You know you need to run to her. She might be your salvation.

You think you probably have a few hours before everyone is starting to get up and getting their memories, but the noise coming from your parent's rooms tells you it’s not that much.

Throwing a few changes of clothes, the few money you had saved from your babysitting days, you take your bag and slowly and quietly make your way downstairs. If the clock is right is almost 3 am.

You reach the main floor when the door of your parent's rooms cracks. You hold your breath, praying to someone they don’t notice you. The bathroom door closes a few seconds later. You make your way to the living room, only noticing the one picture is there. You stand there, behind your parents and where they used to be your siblings, you see there’s nothing there. It was just part of whatever Wanda created for you.

You take the opportunity and open the living room window and jump through it. The main and back doors are locked at night and only your father has the key. One night when he left you outside all night after getting late 3 minutes after your curfew, you made sure to break the lock on the leaving room window in case of an emergency. They never opened it so never noticed it.

You see the bathroom light is still on. You count to ten before sprinting toward the driveway and towards Wanda’s house, hoping to find her. At this point, you’ll be happy to find Agatha or even Monica.

Before you arrive at her house you stop. You don’t even know if your theory is correct but at this point of your life, you’re ready to risk it. 

You get there and look for her house. All you see is an empty lot.

No house, no construction, not even the reminiscent of anything. You start to panic.

“No, no, no, no”

Your breath gets shallow and your eyes are burning from your tears. You look frantically trying so desperately to find a sign of her. Anything but there’s nothing.

“You shouldn’t be here… Y/N”

Her thick accent makes you turn so fast your neck hurts.

“Wanda” you say with relief in your voice. She’s taken aback, clearly not expecting it. Her eyes are swollen and her red outfit is nowhere to be seen. Instead, she’s wearing a black hoodie.

You take a step towards her but she takes one back. You stop. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I…”

You don’t know. You just wanted to see her. The night air is colder or maybe is just your nerves. You hug yourself in order to get some warmth into your body. Your pj’s aren’t exactly the warmest ones.

She sees this and conjures a thick jacket around you. When you say nothing she continues putting some bags into her car. A black and heavy-looking bag pack at her shoulders. 

“You’re leaving?”

“I don’t think I’m welcoming here anymore Y/N. You should go home”

It’s the panic of not seeing her again, of her leaving you that has you getting closer to her and taking her wrist, stopping whatever task she was doing.

“Take me with you”

“What?” Her voice is barely a whisper but in the silence of the night is so loud she might be well yelling at you.

“Take me whit you Wanda… please”

You don’t beg. Never. Not after learning at a young age it only brought more problems, your father never stopped if you begged, it just enraged him more, so you learn to never beg, for anything.

She sees your hand on her wrist and feels the emotions swilling around you. She dares not to look at your mind but your thoughts are so loud she can’t help to see half of the abuse you have suffered. 

A small gasp leaves her lips.

“Why do you want to go with me? I’m a monster. You saw it yourself”

“You’re not a monster. Not to me”

She’s still watching your hand. Your voice is just a whisper.

“I trapped you here”

“You freed me”

“I controlled your mind!”

“You saved me!”

“You... I… what?” She’s speechless, her nose scrunched in this little way you always thought cute.

“I don’t know the extend of what happened or how it happened, All I know is that my life was hell, literal hell and then you came into Westview and…”

“I should never have done what I did Y/N. You should be afraid of me”

“I’m not”

“Well you should”

You can tell she’s getting exasperated. Her eyes flashing red.

“Wanda… pozhaluysta”

It’s that little world in her native langue that has her seeing you for the first time this night. She sees your eyes and sees all the pain and anguish you have. She sees the same reflected in her eyes.

A plea in your eyes. You don’t see her as a monster or the Scarlet Witch. When you see her, she can see hope in your eyes.

She joined the Avengers and fought at their side to save people. The recent events after Thanos sidetracked her and blinded her. She was grieving and in pain… and did things she never thought of doing. Was she really what Hydra, Ultron, Agatha, and a lot of people said she was? Someone to be afraid of?

But you were here and as much as she just wants to grieve and is suffering, she has the chance again of being a hero. To make the effort and fight for once she once fought, to be worthy again, to make Vision sacrifice worth, to fight for the love she once felt.

“Okey”

The smile you give her is prof enough she can start again.

When Wanda left Westview and all its habitants, they felt relieved, left to their own devices to rebuild their old lives and to never heard from her again. Except for you. 

You were leaving with her, escaping from the real prison you lived before she came into your life and offered you your salvation in disguise.

[thisisej]

Thanks for the tag Sam!

Q: How did you get into reading/writing/drawing femslash? A: I've been in the fic world since I was 15. Fic was a way for me to interact with my sexuality when I was closeted to everyone I knew. I didn't have any sort of queer community; the closest thing I had was the internet. It took me a little longer to pluck up the courage to share my F/F stories, so I appreciate the creative outlet that fandom and writing fic has given me!

Q: What are your favorite femslash ships? A: Korrasami, Bubbiline, Clexa, Allison/Lydia (teen wolf), and TogaChako!! I feel like there are more, but I'll probably remember after posting this! (edit: it was Catradora)

Q: Which F/F rarepair(s) do you wish got more love and why? A: Right now my main fandom is My Hero Academia, and I have to say just about every Ochako femslash ship, with a special shoutout to MinaChako, TsuChako, Ochako/Setsuna, and Ochako/Kendou! Also all the Lady Nagant ships. I LOVE Lady Nagant. If I had to pick a BNHA crush it would be her. I love her best with Inko or Ippan Josei!

Q: What is your favorite thing about drawing/writing femslash? A: I think it's being able to relate to the characters I choose to write about, even if I haven't gone through everything I've ever put my characters through. Just sinking into the emotion and romance of a story I want to see through is such a fun experience, even at the height of drama, angst, or action and adventure!

Q: What is your greatest challenge when drawing/writing femslash? A: Smut! Pacing and word choice can make or break a scene and it's constantly a learning experience.

Q: Do you prefer reading/writing femslash one-shots or longfics? A: I love reading both! As for writing, oneshots are easier to finish, but harder to write. Longfic WIPs are my favorite to start because of all the worldbuilding I get to do, but they're the hardest to finish.

Q: What is your favorite/most underrated F/F fic you have written or F/F thing you've drawn? A: I'd say my urban fantasy MomoJirou AU, Sweet, Like Red. (mind the E rating!)

Q: What are your favorite tropes in F/F fics? A: Getting together! Hurt/Comfort, Mutual pining, Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers

Q: What sort of background pairings do you like to see in fics with F/F as a main pairing? A: My most read F/F pairing right now is TogaChako. I'd say my favorite background pairings in fics with them are definitely Deku and Mina ships, because they're both favorites of mine and I adore fics that feature their friendships with Ochako.

Q: What tone or vibes do you prefer in femslash fics? Crack? Angst? Fluff? A bit of everything? A: I read a wide variety of fic. Everything from fluff and rom-coms to crack, soapy dramas and heavy angst. I also really enjoy horror. When I write, I think I tend toward a more serious or dramatic style, but am trying to lean into lighter plots as well!

Q: Are there any specific F/F WIPs you are working on or ideas you’ve cooked up that you’re especially excited about? A: I'm working on two right now! I'm a big omegaverse fan, and F/F omegaverse is hard to come by, so I'm whittling away at the next chapter of a TogaChako everyone-lives-and-is-a-pro-hero AU with an omegaverse twist. Anti Gravity centers on an adult pro-hero Ochako who's sworn off relationships teaming up with underground hero Sanguine to bust a trafficking ring, not realizing her new partner (and assigned heat contact) is the very same mysterious hook-up she can't seem to get out of her head. Please note this fic is rated E, and will eventually feature canon typical violence and some dystopia. The Egg in the Moon is a KendoChako high fantasy AU complete action/adventure, dragons, and soulmate marks! When Princess Ochako meets dragonborn Itsuka on the battlefield, she must face everything she thought she knew about the tension between their people with the reality when an unexpected event brings her and Itsuka together. Please note this fic is rated M, and does contain moments of peril, graphic violence and side character death.

Q: Any fic recs?

A: Loads!!!

If you enjoy F/F omegaverse like myself, I'd definitely recommend:

NefarioussNess's TogaChako SoulMate series (T and M ratings with background BKDK)

SeasonalSaison's achingly lovely fantasy tale Run baby run (rated T. Warning that TogaChako meet as step siblings when their parents marry, prompting a lovely case of unrequited but actually requited love)

Sugar Sweet Strawberries is a MinaChako AU where mentor Mina takes fledgling sugar baby Ochako under her wing. (Warning for E rating and sex work)

For BNHA stories that aren't omegaverse:

read between my lines by FireHeartAW is a witchy TogaChako bookshop AU complete with confessions and all the sapphic love at first sight feels (rated T)

KharmtheRose has a wonderful assortment of F/F BNHA fics! (some are rated E!)

Works by Wingedpaki (variety of ratings and AUs, including omegaverse!)

long to hold you by fizzseed is a delectable established relationship MinaChako (mind the E rating!)

Non BNHA:

Measure Each Step to Infinity by paxbanana (AtLA, Katara/Azula. Rated E). 200k+. One of my favorite epic length reads!

femslash writer/artist interview

I’m trying to get back into interviewer mode for one of my jobs and classes, so I decided to make a (hopefully) fun little game. Feel free to reblog, tag ppl and answer as few or as many of the questions as u want. And feel free to tailor the questions to make them more applicable to u

How did you get into reading/writing/drawing femslash?

What are your favorite femslash ships?

Which F/F rarepair(s) do you wish got more love and why?

What is your favorite thing about drawing/writing femslash?

What is your greatest challenge when drawing/writing femslash?

Do you prefer reading/writing femslash one-shots or longfics?

What is your favorite/most underrated F/F fic you have written or F/F thing you've drawn?

What sort of background pairings do you like to see in fics with F/F as a main pairing?

What are your favorite tropes in F/F fics?

What tone or vibes do you prefer in femslash fics? Crack? Angst? Fluff? A bit of everything?

Are there any specific fics or other forms of media that inspired you to write/draw for a specific ship?

Are there any specific F/F WIPs you are working on or ideas you’ve cooked up that you’re especially excited about?

Any fic recs?

@pianogav1n @jajalala @vriska @linkyychan @thisisej

[stressedoutcanary]

Hold On - Jason Todd x Batgirl!Reader

Summary:

"Hey! I see a vent inside, maybe if we get to the roof-"

BAMMMM

"Of course, just shoot open the lock and alert whoever's inside. What a great strategy! Why didn't I think of it?! Oh I know, because it's dumb!"

Warnings: Language, Canon typical Violence, Occasional Angst lets be real it's Jason we are talking about, Kidnappings..?

Word count: 1.6k

A/N:- I...should be studying right now buttt I had fun writing this and yes, I took the title from the song Hold On by Chord Overstreet, I think it fits this perfectly.

I wasn't going for a series but here we are.

Part 2, Part 3

•°•°•°•°

It was a quite night for Gotham. Every person was busy with their own work and so were you, even if it was a little different from what people down below on the streets were doing. As of yet, you had stopped two muggings, busted a few armed two-face goons trying to rob a bank and were currently running across rooftops.

'Maybeee I can get off easy today, go home, microwave the pizza that has been waiting for me in the fridge, get a nice, warm shower and then straight to bed'

You hummed to yourself at the delightful thought as you sat on a gargoyle overlooking the city. You were enjoying the feeling of the light breeze on your face. It was soothing in a way. Not long after, you were startled by your comms crackling to life out of nowhere as you heard Oracle's automated voice in your ears.

"Batgirl I am going to need you to check out the area near Gotham Central Park for any visible strange activity. There are several missing persons reports filed this week that I have tied up to that particular region."

'So much for a warm bath and a good night's sleep, way to jinx yourself (Y/N), you dumbass'

"Isn't that park under construction or something? You know after the whole Justice League fiasco last month?", you questioned.

"Yep but people still go there, in the mornings for walks and at the nights for certain activities."

"Of course they do, I swear, people here are on a whole different level." You sighed. "Alrighty then Babs, I am on it."

•°•°

After climbing up a couple of fire escapes and swinging off of numerous rooftops you finally reached your target destination. There was a deafening silence when your feet landed on the damp grass. You took in the misted surroundings and decided to look around for something out of the ordinary. There was a broken bright neon sign by the corner of the street which caught your attention, you could only make out the last bit, it spelled Parlor.

'That seems awfully familiar. Something about it is odd but I can't quite place my finger on it'

You were lost in thought when you felt someone move behind you, there was rather little time for you to react so you choose the 'hit first ask questions later' option. You clenched your fist, twisted your upper body and delivered a quick, staggering blow to the shady figure lurking behind.

.

"OWW!! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!"

.

"HOOD?!"

Sure enough, Jason was on the ground clutching his ribs looking like a hurt puppy.

You moved your hands up and massaged you temples. You do not want to deal with him. Not today and if possible not ever. Even though you never let it show, you always avoided a run in with him. He may have become a part of the family again but you were far off from forgiving him.

You watched with narrowed eyes as he got to his feet and and dusted off the grass from his jacket.

"So on a Scale of one to Demon brat, how much do you hate me?", the smirk on his face and the way he wiggled his eyebrows at you almost made you want to smack him with a crowbar yourself.

"What? Dami?! I don't-- I don't hate Damian, he just gets on my nerves sometimes, something you do all the time.", you enjoyed, maybe a little too much, the way Jason's smirk turned into a small pout. You smiled a bit as you shook your head at his childishness.

"Before you start chucking batarangs at me I want to make this clear; No, Oracle did not send me here to be your backup or whatever, I just happen to be investigating the same thing which obviously led me here to you. So how about we work on this together and watch each other's back", Despite the uncertainty of your rejection, he sounded hopeful. It seemed as if he was ready to build the old, worn out bridges of your relationship back up again. It sent an unexpected warmth through your chest.

"Just like old times?"

"Just like old times.", Jason repeated as you both did a rather unsuccessful fist bump and grinned like idiots.

•°•°

You walked up to the seemingly abandoned building, Jason examined the door for traps whereas you decided on taking a look through the glass window.

"Hey! I see a vent inside, maybe if we get to the roof-"

BAMMMM

"Of course, just shoot open the lock and alert whoever's inside. What a great strategy! Why didn't I think of it?! Oh I know, because it's dumb!", you whisper shouted with a scowl. Jason just shrugged and tilted his head to the side, pointing towards the now open door.

"Ladies first, so lead the way, unless you're scared.", it was a playful challenge on Jason's part, one that you were more than ready to accept.

"Oh you're on Red."

You stepped inside and it was all business from there on. You took in the condition of the room; dusty desks, broken glass, oddly placed mannequins and footprints leading up ahead into a long hallway.

"They seem recent enough", Jason gave a slight nod at your discovery.

Considering the darkness of the hallway, you and Jason shared a look and switched on your night vision lenses. You both started taking cautious steps, the occasional soft thud of your boots being the only sound in the vicinity.

The end of the hallway was forked up and there were two rooms at the end of each passageway.

"How is this place so big! it didn't seem this huge from the outside", you could hear the exasperation in Jason's voice. You figured not getting to hit someone might be getting to him or that he was just bored.

"Look I will take the right, you take the left, our comms are already connected, if any one of us finds anything we tell the other and remember we do not engage in a fight alone. Am I clear or do you want me to write that down for you"

"Yes ma'am, but just so you know you are starting to sound like The old man", you rolled your eyes at his comment and went on ahead towards the right as he went the other way.

•°•°

You scrolled through the torn down bookshelf kept in one of the rooms and you were making a mental note in your mind that there were a lot of medical journals in the bunch, when your comms buzzed.

"I am sorry", Jason whispered in a soft voice and you froze for a spilt second, eyes widening.

'No (Y/N) don't listen to him, he doesn't know what he is saying, just focus on finding those missing people and get this over with'

With that thought you tried continuing your investigation as if you had heard nothing.

"I said, I am sorry (Y/N). I know you heard me. I also know you've been avoiding me, cutting me out and you don't have to reply if don't feel like it but...I just wanted you to know..."

"Now is not the right time for this Hood and...for what it's worth I am not looking forward to a forgiveness session with you...", you felt awful for cutting him out the way you did, your heart clenched at the harshness of your words as you clicked off your comms, but you refused to have this discussion right now. If you were being more honest to yourself you just couldn't bear the emotions it would bring, so you chose the easiest way; completely shutting him out.

It was few minutes after the highly uncomfortable talk with Jason that a wall poster had caught your eye. You moved your hand over it, somewhat wiping off the dust, there was something scribbled on it making it harder for you to read the actual text. You squinted, trying to make out the words

"The people need...perfection...and that is what Pretty Dolls Parlor strives to achieve."

You scanned the area near poster for fingerprints and clicked your comms back on.

"Hood, get over here, I found something and I think this is the make or break kind of information", you were waiting for scan to complete, concern creeping up your mind when there was no reply from the other end.

"Red Hood? can you hear me?"

Nothing.

"Red?! Answer me Damnit!!"

A whole lot of Nothing.

As soon as you heard the chime of the scanner signaling its completion, you sped the other way towards the left corridor, towards Jason.

'Jay please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.'

By the time you reached Jason's location you were panting from the lack of breath and were already cursing yourself for bringing Jason along. To say that the man can take care of himself might be an understatement, he is basically a lone wolf, but still the thought of something happening to him while he was with you hurt like hell.

You looked around frantically and almost jumped out of your skin when you stepped on a gun. You heart almost stopped, it was Jason's. To make matters worse, there was no other sign of him or of were he went. You picked up the gun holding it securely in your hand. You could literally hear your heart pounding in your ears.

Suddenly, through the reflection from the glass window in front of you, you caught a glimpse of a man wearing a blank white face mask, you turned around, immediately switching to a fighting stance but that only did so much for you. A flashlight was switched on and shoved near your face, the night vision of your lens intensified the light, blinding you completely.

Before you could react, a metal pole connected straight with the back of your head and just like that you were lights out on the ground.

°•°•°•°•

Author's cute little extra Note:

*wiggling my eyebrows rn*

I might be a little too obsessed with the Arkham Knight game hehe.

Well that ended well for you, didn't it?? Jason's gone missing and you get a nice concussion to garnish your anxiety level? No? Okay I will stop talking now.

Tell me if you want to be tagged for the next parts.💕

[babyjamiebarnes]

Build-A-Bear

Part Nine

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Sam, Steve

Warnings: gun-related violence (this is the primary theme so please be cautious), language, reference to smut

Summary: With reader back to work in the Tower, new threats arise and new approaches are taken to her safety. Kind of a filler but also kind of important.

Author’s Note: The next part is gonna be a 0 to 100 chapter so please hold while I hammer that out. I usually try to add multiple scenes/days/events but this is just one situation the reader is caught in. It’ll be getting to the primary climax soon though so I’m thinking maybe 3-4 parts left? Unless there’s more drama I want to add later 😈 And as always, feel free to send me a coffee!

Series Masterlist

Tags: @amourmarvel @fangirlvoice @kennedywxlsh @devilswaldorf @what-the-hap-is-fuckning @alyispunk @fredweasleysbitchh @wearegroot @sunflowerbebe107 @prestigious-tea @brckenmemories @angelbabymed

The next few weeks were thankfully uneventful. You had ordered a bed for Steve to put in the living room, including a curtain so he could have a little privacy, especially when Sam woke up extra early to start making breakfast. Bucky kept the inflatable mattress on your floor, but spent every night with you in his arms instead. “It’s safer this way,” he’d say. It was his excuse just in case your dad ever showed up unannounced.

The one time your dad did show up unannounced, Steve and Sam were at your front door with their weapons drawn and Bucky was shirtless in your bedroom doorway with his own gun aimed at your father. Fortunately, none of them were trigger-happy and lowered their weapons when they realized who it was.

Your dad learned three things that day:

1. He needed to call ahead if he planned on stopping by.

2. You were in very good hands in the safety of your apartment.

3. He wasn’t a fan of seeing a shirtless Winter Soldier leaving your bedroom — or seeing a shirtless Falcon and Captain America in your living room, for that matter.

Regardless, you were never worried about your safety when you were home, or even when the boys let you go out and about with them flanking you on every side. Needless to say, you didn’t go out much.

But you were able to go back to work at the Tower, mainly because the boys hadn’t been able to properly train or attend any missions while you were holed up at home — and it looked like things were clearing up around you. Your dad said one of them would have to stay with you even if the other two went on missions and had fortunately let you choose who that one lonely man would be. Not that you’d ever let Bucky actually be lonely.

The media buzz over you had died pretty quickly, but there were still a few relentless reporters that would crowd around you when you left Stark Tower. You always parked under the building where none of them could get in, but that didn’t stop you from going out to get lunch instead of staying inside and having it delivered. The weather was getting warmer and you wanted to get out while you could.

One gloomy Thursday, your dad decided to join you, Bucky, Sam, and Steve when you went out for your lunch. There was a falafel place just down the street that you liked, so the five of you decided to make it a group date, of sorts. Bucky was nervous at first, but you assured him it would all be fine.

“If you get a little cozy, just blame it on staying close so no one else can,” you said, holding his jaw in your hands. “You’re just keeping me safe.”

You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead as you stood in the middle of your lab. You weren’t required to have protection while inside the Tower, but Bucky insisted on visiting when his training hours were over.

“I’ll always keep you safe,” he said softly. He pulled your hands from his cheeks and kissed your knuckles before tugging you out of the lab to meet the rest of your lunch crew at the elevators.

Now that everyone knew who you were, you were able to be more playful and casual around your dad. Things that would usually have earned you some questioning stares from your work friends instead led to laughs and high-fives. You could make jokes and digs without getting in the same kind of trouble as Sam or Bucky. Steve still had the most immunity.

That was one of those days. You and Steve poking fun at Tony and making playful jokes he was quick to quip back at. The five of you were alone in the elevator the whole trip down, probably because Tony had Friday set to not allow anyone else in when he was in the lift.

Everyone was all smiles and laughs until the elevator doors opened. You took about three steps before you were practically tackled to the ground, a loud bang followed by the sharp ding of metal on metal stunning you more than the pressure of a body pressing against yours. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, the plaster of the wall above you shattered and crumbled around you at the sound of another loud bang echoing in the Tower lobby. None of the debris actually hit you, probably because of the large, heavy body of your boyfriend curled over yours.

Since you were on your hands and knees, you turned just enough to see Bucky’s blue eyes blown wide as he looked down at you.

“Are you okay?” he asked frantically.

“I--I think so?” you replied, not entirely sure what you were supposed to be okay from. You hadn’t really processed what was happening, just that Bucky was completely covering you with his body. “Are you okay?”

He just nodded. “The bullet hit my arm, no damage.”

“The bullet?!” you half-screamed. “Is anyone hurt?” You pushed against his metal arm to see the rest of the lobby; everyone was crouched to the ground, and the sound of more bangs and dings of Tony’s suit getting hit told you why. Tony was just a couple feet from you, letting his Iron Man suit build around him, but started waving his hands at you, shouting “get her out of here!”

Bucky’s arms swooped under you and he swept you past the elevators and stairwell to a back room that only unlocked after Bucky scanned his hand in a hidden compartment. The door opened to a separate, smaller stairwell that you assume only led to the Avengers’ floors… 30 floors up.

“This way,” Bucky said, drawing your reluctant gaze from the towering steps to a hidden elevator behind the staircase. Thank god.

He quickly ushered you in and pressed the button for the private rooms. You’d never been above the common rooms, save for the one time you sat in Bucky’s room after surgery. Your eyes flicked to Bucky’s that were already trained on you looking for any injuries.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. His hands rested on your shoulders, his eyebrows furrowed as he scanned your face and body again and again.

You just nodded, still trying to process having literally been shot at. But the secret elevator was much faster than the main elevator because you arrived at Bucky’s floor seconds later. He grabbed your hand and led you to his room, keeping you close and constantly looking around even though only verified Avengers could access this floor.

“Your dad set up a whole plan in case something like this ever happened,” he explained. “We’re supposed to stay on this floor until one of them comes to get us. Chances are you’ll end up working from home again since you’re somehow safer there with us than here with everyone.”

He sounded annoyed, but you couldn’t blame him. You assumed you’d be safer in and around the Tower than in your apartment. Your apartment didn’t have all the gadgets and gizmos the Tower had. Sure, you had installed your own security system and now had constant video recording, but the Tower had Iron Man.

“Are you okay?” you asked again. Bucky looked up at you with his eyebrows drawn together, but nodded at your question. “Are… are dad, Steve, and Sam okay?”

It was harder for Bucky to answer that when he didn’t know. He silently pulled up the Tower video feed on his TV and found the main entrance. Tony already had the shooter face down on the ground with blasters aimed at him and an iron boot on his back; Steve and Sam were checking on bystanders. Knowing the rest of your little team was safe eased some of the tension in your body, but that just made it easier for you to realize you had nearly been shot.

“Thank you for saving me,” you said quietly. Bucky stepped closer to you, letting you wrap your arms around him as you forced back tears brought forward by the onslaught of fear that ran through you.

“I’ll always protect you, princess,” he said just as softly. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and just held you. It was just as important for him to hold you as it was for you to be held by him. While his embrace helped ground you and reminded you that you were okay, it reassured him that you were safe with him.

Bucky had grown so used to being the cause of people’s fear, not their source of comfort. You changed that.

You just stood there in each other’s arms for a while, needing the security to calm both of your nerves.

“Can we just… lie down?” you asked.

Bucky had never seen you this fragile before. He always saw you as his spunky little spitfire, so seeing you gradually crack and splinter as the seconds ticked by made his own heart break. Without a word, he led you over to his bed. He laid down first, letting you curl your legs over his abdomen and rest your head against his shoulder.

“I know you’re physically okay, but do you wanna talk about it?” Bucky asked softly.

You were quiet for a second, nervously playing with the hem of his t-shirt. It took a few minutes, but the gravity of what just happened ran over you like a freight engine and your mind wasn’t having a good time trying to get back on track.

“How many shots were fired?” you finally asked.

That’s not what he wanted you to ask.

“I counted five before we got out.”

The pause before your answer just made Bucky’s nerves even more frazzled. He wasn’t used to consoling anyone. That was Sam’s specialty, not his.

“Someone tried to shoot me five times,” you said solemnly. “Someone tried to… to kill me five times.”

“Hey, no,” Bucky hushed. “We’re not doing that. When I said I’ll always keep you safe, I meant it. I can’t lose my Build-A-Bear. Those things are expensive,” he teased.

You huffed a soft laugh before snuggling your head against his chest. With his right arm wrapped around you to trace his fingertips across your skin and his left hand hooked over your calves, it wasn’t long before you fell asleep. The stress of what appeared to be an attempted assassination didn’t sit lightly on your shoulders.

Bucky managed to stay awake, slowly and carefully grabbing his remote to find something to watch until he received word to let you go.

Nearly three hours later — after Steve, Sam, and Tony had spoken with the police and tried to get some info out of the shooter — all three came barreling into Bucky’s room, quickly silenced by the sight of you sleeping on Bucky. You had adjusted your position in your sleep, slipping your body between Bucky’s legs and resting your head on his abdomen. This left him to play with your hair since you were too low for him to continue to hold. He knew you’d have one hell of a time getting to sleep later that night and probably hold your messed up sleep schedule against him until you got back on track, but he wasn’t going to wake you up.

“What’s going on?” Tony asked, more curiously than accusingly.

“Uh, she seemed pretty, um, unsettled by the whole thing and just wanted me to, to hold her,” he explained quietly and slowly, attempting to avoid revealing anything.

Tony just nodded in understanding.

“When she wakes up, I want you to find me.”

The way he said it didn’t sound upset or threatening, but Bucky felt ice shoot up his spine at your dad wanting to sit down with him — and only him. Nonetheless, he nodded as everyone left the room.

When you woke up not long after, he made sure you were okay before leaving to “talk things over with the guys,” he said.

Tony was waiting for Bucky in one of the conference rooms. He didn’t have anything with him other than his phone, so Bucky figured he wasn’t in any trouble… but that just confused him more.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna fire you for… cuddling with my daughter,” Tony said with a cringe. “Take a seat, please.”

Bucky hesitantly sat across from Tony, clearly still worried about what was going on. Tony’s silence was unnerving.

“[Y/N] is going back to her place full time. I’m sure you already figured that out. You three musketeers are clearly better at keeping her safe than I am. And before I continue, I need to say that Sam’s a good guy — most of the time — and Steve’s… something, usually something good, even though he loves getting on my nerves. But today, you were the first line of defense. Don’t think I missed the sound of that first shot hitting you. If you had been on the other side of her, you’d be in medbay right now having a bullet fished out of your arm.”

Tony paused again. He spun his phone in his hands, clearly working up to something and unknowingly setting Bucky on high alert. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Steve and Sam are going to stay with her at her place, of course, but I don’t want you to leave her side,” Tony finally continued. “If she goes into the kitchen for breakfast, you’re in the kitchen getting breakfast. If she goes to the bathroom, you’re right outside the door. That mattress stays right next to her bed. When she wants to order food, you send one of the other guys and stay with her. Bucky.” Tony paused once again. He leaned forward now just to make sure the severity of what he was about to say was fully understood. He didn’t want to say it, but he knew it was the right decision. “I’m trusting you with my daughter’s life. I don’t take this shit lightly and as much as I want to dislike you… you’re the person I trust the most right now.”

Bucky couldn’t describe the emotions running through his brain. Confidence? Joy? Maybe even fear? Sure, it was nice that his boss was giving him such a huge responsibility, but it was something entirely different to hear his girlfriend’s dad say that he trusted him. Wasn’t that part of why you weren’t telling Tony? Would this change things? Could you finally be open with your relationship?

“Thank you, Tony. That really means a lot. Uh, I-I won’t let you down,” Bucky managed to squeak out.

Tony just nodded before patting Bucky on the shoulder and leaving the room. Bucky sat alone in silence for a second to fully process everything. Was it ironic? Tony Stark was trusting the man who killed his parents to now protect his daughter. But wasn’t it already fucked up that Howard and Maria’s granddaughter was knowingly and willingly dating their killer?

Bucky had gone through a lot to come to terms with his past, but moments like this cast doubt on him again. But he couldn’t dwell on it. He had to find you, Sam, and Steve to get you home.

When he got back to his room, he found all three of you sitting on his bed and talking. You were still lying against the headboard with Steve sitting criss-cross applesauce and Sam lying on his stomach. You looked like a group of high schoolers at a sleepover.

“Hey,” he said softly. You smiled and made grabby-hands at him until he sat beside you.

“Slight change of plans.”

Everyone looked at him in confusion, Sam and Steve clearly not up to date on the team’s roles.

“I just sat down with Tony and, uh, I guess I’m basically your bodyguard now.”

“You already have been for a month now,” you said with a confused laugh.

“Well, yeah, but your dad said I’m not supposed to leave your side. Like, if you move to another room, I move with you.” Your eyes widened at this. It felt excessive, to say the least. You were basically already attached at the hip, but sometimes you just need a minute to be alone. “He said I’m the one he trusts most to protect you.”

“Come on, man, you could’ve just told me to go fuck myself,” Sam joked, earning a punch to the shoulder from Steve.

“Aw, you finally got parental approval,” you cooed, cupping his jaw in your hands.

“I don’t think the approval extends to me hitting it from the back until you pass out,” Bucky chuckled. Sam whistled lowly while Steve just shook his head in disappointment (approval?).

“Speaking of hitting it from the back, we should probably get back to my place before it’s too dark,” you said.

A light knock on your door drew everyone’s attention but before you could see who it was, you toppled over at the force of Bucky shoving your body behind his. You managed to catch yourself on his shoulders to lift yourself up, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck with your head perched on his shoulder. It was admittedly very couple-y, but your dad seemed unfazed in your doorway.

“Hey pops,” you chirped.

“I see I made a good decision,” he said, noting how quickly Bucky hid you from what could’ve been a potential threat. “By the way, Barnes is in charge of this operation now. Sorry Cap.” Steve just held his hands up in surrender. You figured he didn’t mind handing the reins over for once.

“We were just about to head out,” Bucky said. You’d have to make sure this newfound power didn’t go to his head. Which just meant you’d have to get him on his knees…

“I just wanted to give you this.” He held out what looked like the remote scanner cashiers had in checkout lanes. “I know [Y/N] has been getting a lot of fan mail so this will scan up to 20 items at a time for hazardous devices, poisonous toxins, and anything else that’s potentially harmful.”

You hadn’t gone through your mail in at least a week, but you’d already gotten the green light to have the next day — a Friday, thankfully — off after what happened, so you and the boys could hammer through everything and clear off your dining room table.

“Thanks, dad.”

You hopped off the bed and wrapped your dad in a much-needed hug. You both needed one after the stress of the day gradually wore off, but you could tell he needed one even more. You had Bucky to run to; Tony was worried about you. He held you tight and gently scratched right below your neck, just like he would do to get you to fall asleep as a baby. Some things never change.

“I love you,” you said quietly.

“I love you too, pumpkin,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. After another moment, you pulled apart and he went right back into business mode. “Okay, Rhodey and I are gonna follow you guys home in the suits just in case anything happens. Barnes, you’re in the backseat with [Y/N].”

With your dad standing behind you, he couldn’t see you mouth “backseat” to Bucky with a wink. The super soldier’s cheeks turned light pink, but so did Steve’s, which made it hard for you to keep from laughing as your dad continued discussing what changes would be made for your safety.

•

When you finally — safely — got home, you just wanted to take a bath and go to bed. You hadn’t even had supper, but you almost didn’t want to eat anything. If it hadn’t been for Bucky bringing you stuffed peppers courtesy of Sam, you probably wouldn’t have eaten. But he ate his dinner beside you on your bed, then joined you for a long, hot, bubbly bath.

Both of you knew it needed to be a slow night without saying a word. Bucky’s hands lazily ran over your skin before chasing the rinse of water with his lips. He wasn’t rushed or aggressive; he took his time and savored being with you. Even when you were lying in bed and desperately grabbing at his arms, back, shoulders, everything, his strokes were sensual and deliberate. His body acted as a fortress over yours, keeping you guarded from the rest of the world, even if it was just in your bedroom.

And as you fell asleep in his arms that night, he promised himself he would get to the bottom of your attack whether the law wanted him to or not.

[jenomark]

➔Pairing: Haechan x Reader (Female)  ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Fluff ➔Warnings: Angst | Mentions of death | Cursing ➔Word count: 6,865

➔Summary: He was always yours, even before you wrote a book about him, even before he disappeared from your life after high school, and even before he broke his promise. 

➔Request: can I request a drabble of haechan friends to lovers? 🥺

➔ I hope you don’t mind that I turned this into a longer story that is more on the fluff side. I felt really inspired to do so. Thanks for sending in the request! 💚

You

  You hated school. Not because you weren’t serious about your studies. You liked the subjects well enough. You liked eating lunch at a table, a little package of apple slices, and a chocolate milk that always tasted like the carton it was in. You liked hanging up your coat in the coat closet, little rain droplets dripping on the wooden floor when the weather was bad. You liked your teachers and how they would encourage your love of reading. You liked all the things to like except one: school hours meant time away from him.

  Him. He pulled your hair sometimes when he was bored. You cried once, your mother saying something sexist about how he must like you. Your father never paid attention, just kept watching the television. You wondered if all boys were that stupid. He also made fun of the way your nose would wiggle when you talked. He had a smart comment for everything. He thought he was smarter than you, even. There weren't many nice things to say right off the top of your head, but you loved him anyway.

 During the school year, the school hours especially, you never talked to him. He was off parading around with his squad of friends, each one more pigheaded than the last. They’d act like they didn’t care about school in the schoolyard, but all of them got decent grades. Sometimes they would pick on others boys, the principal telling others that that’s just what boys did. Sometimes he would raise his hand in class and answer the right question, and even though you sat next to each other in class, he’d never look at you. 

  Your school life was a little different. You were off spending time hovering by doorways, wishing the days would end until you could see him again. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, a question of whether you truly knew him or not always on your tongue. You didn’t spend time pretending other people were your friends, because your best friend had always been him.

  After school felt like a different time zone. Neither of you took your time with homework. You would rush, a telltale sign being poorly erased letters and crumpled papers shoved into bookbags. Usually, he would walk to your house and meet you in the tent in the backyard, talking long before he reached the entrance. He always talked about his day as if you weren’t in it. He liked to talk a lot.

“I don’t want to hear it.” you would say. “I don’t know why you’re friends with those people.”

 You were both at an age where you were figuring stuff out. You fought a lot, with him storming out of your backyard tent and walking home, and you resisting the urge to follow him. There was always a phone call from his concerned mother, eased by your own mother reassuring her that you’d both work out your differences soon. You’d been best friends since you were even younger, clinging to each other only when other people weren’t looking. It was too late to make a clean break.

 Summers were your favorite because you had him all to yourself. At that age, you weren’t aware that keeping him was holding him back from other things. You were all too happy to lounge on a beach with him, watching him get stuck in the sand and laughing at him until your stomach hurt. To you, it was the purest form of love. 

 Time made things weird, as it does. The summers you used to love started fading out. He no longer came on family trips. Instead, he went to summer camps with other thirteen-year-old boys. He would come back boasting about being taught to shave his face by the older kids, and then he would show you his new skills. Even though you were disinterested, you always watched him intensely, thinking that if he let you in to this one valuable piece of information, he would open the door to the rest. He never did.

  Gradually, after-school hangouts were taken away from you, too. Your father’s only contribution to any conversation was to say that your best friend would be more interested in girls now. Even as your parents left you alone, the words of  “But I’m a girl!” leaving your lips until the last light was shut off, you never really understood what it meant. In fact, it wasn’t until he flirted with someone else in front of your face that you got the hint. You were a girl, but he never thought of you that way. And he would rather spend his time after school walking to someone else’s house.

 None of that was as bad as high school was. Up until then, you’d been clutching at straws to make the friendship what it once was. You made the tent bigger to accommodate his growing frame. You offered to pay for movies if he’d come alone, and you would even sit through the boring ones just for him. On the rare chance that you’d guilt trip him into staying a little longer with you, it was enough to keep you enduring. When high school truly hit, the studying took up most of your time. The scraps that were left were spent having family time, or visiting schools your mother wanted you to attend after high school.

 Though he no longer ignored you in school, things had gotten harder. He was dating often, sweeping girls off their feet with his wild, charming sense of humor. It was hard for them not to get jealous of you. Though you weren’t around much, the bond you both shared was obvious to everyone who watched the pair of you together. He never really wanted to choose between his childhood best friend and someone he was seeing, but the choice was always very apparent to you. 

“Maybe you should date, too,” he had said.

  You shut it down quickly, appalled that he would even suggest a thing. When you realized your dismissal must have hurt his feelings, you backtracked.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” you asked.

 His smile made you feel like you were on top of the world. Of course he had someone to introduce to you. Thus, the double date was born. You could tag along with him and his girlfriend, with a friend of his you eventually started dating. It wasn’t the most ideal situation, but it had rekindled something in your friendship you didn’t know you’d been missing.

 He had even come around to your house more. You came home from a study group one time to see him in your childhood tent, his long legs sticking out of it. He bent his body forward, holding up a bag of snacks you recognized.

“You still sit in here?” he asked.

You sat down next to him, the plastic of the tent hitting you in the forehead. “When I need to think.”

“You have a brain?”

“Funny.” you said. “Why are you here?”

  He got a far away look in his eyes, like he did whenever he was truly going to say something stupid. There were times he spoke philosophically, because deep down, he was never the stupid little boy you said he was.

“Life is moving too fast,” he said. “Remember when we were kids and it moved so slow? I would suffer waiting for summer.”

“I remember it vividly.” you said. “Are you feeling nostalgic?”

  He ate some of the snacks, offering you some. When you didn’t take it, he pulled on your hair a little bit. It pulled you to wherever he was at, back in time to when things felt much easier than they were. High school was ending, and you were all walking down different paths, none of them leading back to this tent.

“I want you to promise me something.” he said. “After high school, I want us to always be best friends. This last year has made me realize how much I missed you.”

 You wanted to tell him how much you missed him, to take his hand and hold it in yours. There was something in you that couldn’t do it. You just kept chewing, waiting for him to keep talking. 

“Let’s promise to call each other at least once a day when we’re adults.” he said, getting this excited look in his eyes. He felt more like the real Haechan right then than he ever had in the past five years.

“Promise.” you said, holding out your pinky and getting ready to kiss your thumb.

  Haechan linked his pinky with yours, his thumb connecting to your thumb. You leaned down to kiss it at the same time, your faces coming closer to each other than they had in a long time.

  Sadly, after high school, the promise was never kept. The image of him walking away from your backyard was the last time you saw him in any place you called home.

                                                          ~♡~

  You held the phone away from your ear because it was too hot. In your other hand, you held a cold, strawberry smoothie, the condensation dripping down your fingers. The sidewalks were busy, so it was tricky trying to weave in and out of the people, all while holding an unfinished manuscript for the next book you were writing. Years of dodging kids in school hallways made you a pro. As you were about to collide with a delivery man, you spun around gracefully and avoided disaster. After taking a sip of smoothie, you brought the phone closer to your ear.

“Do people still do book signings for physical copies?” you asked. “I thought everything was about selfies now. I definitely don’t look good with the flash on.”

“Of course.” your agent told you over the phone. “I don’t think anyone over the age of existence does. How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.” you said.

 Your agent on the other end sighed. “You’re too young to be worried about any of this. I’ll book you for the signing and people will come, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

 You wanted to rattle off all the reasons you were freaking out over it, but you were in public. You took another sip of smoothie and looked at the manuscript tucked against your body. Twenty-four and published, with your book rising in the charts, and a second book underway. You shouldn’t be so scared to have human interactions with strangers who enjoy your work, and yet...

“Okay.” you said, closing your eyes for a moment.” Okay, you can do it. I don’t know why I get like this. Seriously, you’re the best.”

“I know. I know.” your agent said. “Take a bath and relax. Call me later.”

  You hung up and threw your phone in the deep recesses of your bag. Your one hand was wet, and you didn’t want it touching the papers, so you tucked them deeper against your body and kept on walking.

                                                        ~♡~

“A book signing. Can you believe it?” you said into the phone. There was no answer on the other end, not even a little static. You walked a little slower on the sidewalk, letting the outside world disappear from your vision. You took a deep breath. “I sold so many copies, mom. I know you would be proud of me.”

  The message ended with a beep. You left the phone on your ear and stopped walking. You stood still, wondering if one day calling your mother and leaving messages on her old cell phone would eventually make you feel better. She died shortly after you graduated from high school, and the phone number was the only part of her still kept alive. You called it whenever you felt a little lost, or on days when you had exciting news to share.

  Feeling a tightness in your chest, you turned off your phone and dropped it into your bag. You were almost home, but you felt like you weren’t ready to face your apartment again. You found it so funny that your professional life was so full and booked, but your personal life was so hollow and empty.

  You turned away, thinking that you could retrace your steps and find yourself on a street with a cafe still open. You would gladly sit at that table and write, watching strangers living their lives, each one stuffed to the brim of character. Men that tried hitting on women who were disinterested, the click-clacking of their heels walking away from potential danger. Mothers with their children, each child holding a mushy, spit-covered ice cream cone. There was always someone who didn’t belong in the crowd, someone your eyes glossed over, and someone who brought up memories of someone you used to know. It was your favorite pastime: watching people who weren’t watching you. You smiled at the thought of getting to live those many lives, when you remembered that there was always a writing deadline to attend to.

  Another time, you thought, before taking the remaining steps to your apartment and looking through the darkened glass front door. Maybe you would take up your agent's suggestion of taking a bath.

 Feeling a little more jolly, you walked up the steps and let yourself in. You stopped to check your mailbox (empty), stopped to check your phone messages one last time (also empty), and lastly, checked your surroundings. When you were sure no one was around, you walked up the steps, feeling tired both mentally and physically. When you reached the top of the hallway, you stopped.

“Haechan.” you said, his name too quiet for him to hear.

   Sitting outside your door, a hood over his head, sat the boy who used to pull on your ponytail. Only now, the figure in all-black clothes, a little 5 o’clock shadow on his face, the one that looked up at you like he didn’t recognize you, pulled at your heartstrings. 

                                                           ~♡~

  You liked to remember Haechan often, especially considering the main character of your book was written with him in mind. Well, you changed his name in the book and made him a lot cooler, but the core of him was the same. Both men were the epicenter of your whole world, even though one of them had left years ago. 

 Looking at him sitting on your floor transported you back in time. Briefly, your mind tried to convince yourself that you were seeing a ghost from the past. But, when he got up from the floor, approaching you cautiously, and he paused for a second before reaching out his arms to hug you, your fingertips knew what your brain didn’t: he was real.

  “Why are you here?” you blurted, pulling away from him, your body regretful that you had let him go.

“I don’t get a hello?” he asked.

  You raised your eyebrows, the surprise on your face real. You were struggling with words, which annoyed you as a writer. All you could do was look at his face and how much it had changed over the last few years. He was a man now. He was a little taller, and the baby fat on his cheeks was gone. He still couldn’t dress right, and the old confidence faded, but he was still as handsome as ever. When he smiled to show that he was joking, you couldn’t stop looking at his teeth.

“How did you find out where I live?” you asked.

“Your dad.” he said.

 Haechan didn’t so much as give his apologies for missing your mother’s funeral, and he had the good graces not to bring her up at all. You felt grateful, saving the pain of both things for another time. 

“I don’t talk to him much anymore.” you said. “He only comes by to give me old things he thinks I want.”

  Not knowing what to do with the piece of information, Haechan shoved his hands into his pockets. You hated how awkward it felt being in front of him. The silence outside of your apartment was magnified by your deep breathing. 

“Are you here because of my book?” you asked.

Puzzled, Haechan blinked. “Book? I didn’t read your book.”

  You adjusted your bag in your hands and thought of something to say. Before you could speak, Haechan motioned to the bag he brought sitting in front of your apartment door. You looked at it, the big black boulder holding no significance to you.

“I was actually just passing through town. I was wondering if you could let me stay a night.” he said.

Him

  He said he hated the apples, even though they were his favorite fruit. He put them on your lunch tray when you weren’t looking, because if you’d seen him do it, you would have made a fuss. Then, he’d get up from your table and go back to wherever his other friends were, because that was what was expected of him. But his eyes always went back to your table to make sure you were eating well, and he would try his best to remember the way you’d smile when you looked down and saw what he had left behind.

 He hated school. It was full of adults who tried to change him. Laugh a little less, they said. Don’t be a clown. Don’t make too much trouble. There was never any room for dreamers or troublemakers, never any kind of future for those who didn’t have plans by the time they were pulled from the womb. Behave and listen. Listen and learn, or we’ll call your parents. He had heard it all by the time he was thirteen, and he hated every bit of it.

 Not you, though. You never tried to change him. You let him go on his way, even though he knew you felt like he was abandoning you. You were the only person he trusted most days, and in the tent in your backyard, he had felt most like himself. 

“I don’t want to hear it.” you had said once. You were angry, he could see it in the way you tried not to say what you wanted to say. “I don’t know why you’re friends with those people.”

 He hadn’t known, either. They liked the way he made them laugh, and he liked the attention they gave him. They were different, in the way that they didn’t remind him that friendships were temporary, that everyone you know might someday disappear. He was terrified of that, of the idea that good things didn’t last.

“Are you jealous?” he asked.

 He wanted the words to sting. He knew you were jealous, and he knew you would never admit to it. He would have been jealous, too, if the roles were reversed. He wanted nothing more than for you to admit that you cared about him, that you loved him, or to rouse any kind of feeling in you at all. Those words spawned a fight that made it hard for either of you to bounce back from. He pulled and picked at you until you were deteriorating in front of his eyes. Choice words were said, and though the wounds healed as you both grew older, neither of you really forgot the beginning of the end.

 Summer came and went, time never slowing down for anybody. The hatred  burning in his heart subsided as he grew into himself more, though he never really learned how to savor the moments as they happened. He was always reaching for more, stuffing his greedy face full of anything that could keep him content.

   His phone calls to you melted down to just one call per week. He didn’t stop by the tent as much, didn’t ask to catch up on homework. He was drifting through school, using the passage of time to measure the length of girls legs, and how they’d move in his direction any time he smiled.

“Maybe you should date, too,” he had said.

 His bright idea didn’t rub off on you. You didn’t smile, didn’t look at him the excited way he looked at you. When you shut it down so quickly, he wondered if your rejection had something to do with him. He was trying really hard to keep your friendship alive, even catching up in the hallways before class to make sure you were taking care of yourself.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” you asked, a simple smile appearing and disappearing before he could blink.

 Introducing you to one of his friends, in hindsight, wasn’t the best idea. He’d had better, but he could hardly take it back. You looked happy when his friend's attention was on you. You were radiant. And it was the perfect set-up. You both could double date and spend time together, just like the old days, even making both of your dates uncomfortable by how close of a bond you had together.

  When the jealousy arrived in a perfect little handbasket, he was sure it was payback for treating you differently, as he was getting to know himself more. He burned whenever he saw you with the other boy, whenever you reached out for his hand, your lips quivering for a kiss. He would stay up late at night in a restless fit, his mind taking turns convincing himself that you were losing your virginity every waking moment. 

 “You’re spending a lot of time at my house.” you had said to him on more than one occasion. 

“Do you mind?” he asked. “I can go home, if you want.”

“No.” you said quickly, your eyes sparkling.

 He wanted to kiss you then. It was a fleeting , special moment, and it hovered in the air between you both from that moment forward. He thought maybe he was imagining it, but he had been close to many girls, and no one looked at him the way you did.

 Sitting in your tent, his legs stretched out of it because he was too big, he thought back to every time you made his heart do backflips in his chest. Ever since you were small, he had feelings for you. In fact, his parents used to joke that the two of you would end up together one day, maybe have a wedding in the backyard,  your inside jokes written into your vows.

 Hearing leaves crunching underfoot, he sat up.  “You still sit in this thing?” he asked.

You sat down next to him, the plastic of the tent hitting you in the forehead. “When I need to think.”

“You have a brain?”

“Funny.” you said. “Why are you here?”

 He wasn’t sure why. He had been taking a walk and found himself there, his feet knowing exactly where to go. He had been thinking too hard about life after high school, and about what kind of man he wanted to be.

“Life is moving too fast,” he said. “Remember when we were kids and it moved so slow? I would suffer waiting for summer.”

“I remember it vividly.” you said. “Are you feeling nostalgic?”

  He ate some of the snacks, offering you some. When you didn’t take it, he pulled on your hair a little bit. Getting you to eat properly was important to him. If he wasn’t around to remind you to take care of yourself, how would you survive the rest of life without him?

“I want you to promise me something.” he said. “After high school, I want us to always be best friends. This last year has made me realize how much I missed you.”

 When he felt like he was going to cry, he shoved more food into his face. He was watching you out of the corner of his eye, wondering if he should continue. When you remained quiet, he began again.

“Let’s promise to call each other at least once a day when we’re adults.” he said, getting this excited look in his eyes. He felt more like the real Haechan right then than he ever had in the past five years.

“Promise.” you said, holding out your pinky and getting ready to kiss your thumb.

  Haechan linked his pinky with yours, his thumb connecting to your thumb. You leaned down to kiss it at the same time, your faces coming closer to each other than they had in a long time. It would be so easy to seal the deal with a real kiss, one that had been years in the making. But he didn’t, and neither did you.

“I have to go.” he said, getting to his feet. “You’re going to keep your promise, right?”

“Have I ever broken a promise to you?” you asked.

                                                       ~♡~ 

  He was raised not to comment on the state of other people’s homes, good or not. Looking around yours, he wanted so badly to tell you how well you were doing for yourself, and how proud of you he was. He looked around, his fingers itching to touch the pretty ceramic birds on an end table, to run a fingertip on a dustless counter and hold it up to the light. 

“You can put your bag down over here.” you said, motioning to a spot beside the couch. “My couch isn’t much, but it is comfortable.”

 You were a little awkward, your eyes unable to connect with his. He could see your mind waiting to defend yourself against the little jabs old Haechan would have made about your space. When he didn’t, you didn’t let your shoulders relax. He moved further inside your apartment, and to your confusion, he said it was a nice place, and that he would be happy to sleep wherever. 

 Compared to your nerves, he was quite calm. He felt like he had walked into a time machine and transported himself into the backyard again. It was like nothing had changed at all. You still looked the same, with nicer clothes that looked more expensive than the average persons. It looked like you went to the hair salon to ask for an “adult” haircut, but your baby face made it hard to take you seriously. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” 

Haechan shrugged. “Sure.”

  When you didn’t ask if he was hungry, Haechan made himself comfortable on the couch. You sat on an opposite chair, folding your hands in your lap. You kept looking around the room nervously, as if you were scared to be alone with a stranger. It hurt him a little bit, but he was mature enough to let it slide.

“Thank you for letting me stay.” he said.

“It’s fine.”

Haechan sighed. “This is much harder than I thought it would be.”

“What is?” you asked, touching your fingers to your neck.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

  You got up from your chair as if you’d been electrocuted. “I forgot I need to make a phone call. I will be right back. Don’t touch anything.” 

  Haechan watched you as you grabbed your bag and left the room. Never one to keep still, an old habit that never died, he got up and looked around. He came across the room you entered and saw that the door was ajar. He didn’t listen to the conversation, just grabbed little pieces of it regarding a book signing to take place the next day.

“So soon?” he heard you ask the person on the other end of the phone.

 Haechan walked away, his attention set on the fireplace. On top of it sat a bunch of picture frames, one of which he was in. Haechan stared at it for a long time, his eyes tracing the outline of the little boy he used to be. In the picture, the two of you were hanging onto each other. You were maybe eight years old, ice cream running down your chin, and a blissful ignorance only a child can carry on your sweet face.

 He didn’t know where things had gone wrong. The two of you should have been friends forever. It just made sense. He reached out to touch his fingers to the photo but reeled back when he saw your face in the reflection.

“My mother took that photo.” you said, appearing behind him.

He nodded. “I remember.” 

 The air was heavy. He wanted to apologize for not going to her funeral. He had been out of the country during that time, but he should have called you. He could have written a letter, he could have done anything else but ignore it. 

“I was scared.” Haechan said, the words surprising himself.

You held up a hand, as if you didn’t want to talk about it, but Haechan continued, “I loved her, too.”

 You turned your back and went into the kitchen. Quietly, Haechan followed. He wasn’t going to bring it up anymore. He sensed your sadness because it brewed in his chest, too. He sat on a stool as you got yourself a cup and poured cold water from a pitcher into it. 

“How was your trip?” you asked, your voice shaky.” Are you still traveling?”

 Since he left high school, Haechan felt aimless. He needed to explore the world in an attempt to further his education surrounding himself. He had traveled to many countries and met many people that changed him. Disappearing was never the plan, but it was addicting to not have phone calls, or to adhere to schedules. 

“I’m seeing where it goes.” he said. 

  You took a sip of water and never stopped looking at him. When you were done, you placed it on the counter. “I guess I should ask the million dollar question.”

Haechan leaned back in his stool, “Hit me with what you got.”

“Why are you here?” you asked.

“I didn’t want to pay for a hotel.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not a liar.”

“Haechan, I’ve known you all my life.” you said. “Lying is your calling.”

“I wanted to see you.”

You inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Stop lying to me.”

“I’m not lying.” he said. “I’ve never lied to you.”

  The bitterness was morphing your face. He could tell you were thinking back to the promise, about how broken it had made you. After he left, he heard from his parents that you called his house often to ask where he had gone. You wrote him letters that were undelivered. You nearly followed him halfway across the world until your mother got sick. 

“Okay.” he said. “It wasn’t a lie when I made that promise. I had every intention of being with you until we were old and wrinkly.”

“Please.” you said. “You knew what you were going to do before you did it. You booked the plane ticket two weeks in advance. You were with me at graduation. You kissed me.”

  He remembered the kiss well. He had thought about it often on his travels, remembering the way your velvety lips felt, and how he never wanted to stop kissing you. The kiss made sense. It was the one thing time had every permission to slow down. 

“I know.” he said.

  He kissed you. You didn’t kiss him. He was happy about graduating. He was riding the high of the plane ticket, of the unknown waiting for him. He was scared it was the last chance he had to show you his feelings. When you kissed him back and it felt so good, he was then scared that he would never have the guts to leave. 

  You continued speaking, each word obliterating his thoughts, “ You want to think going away was just some spontaneous thrill, Haechan, but it fucking wasn’t. You could have told me it was what you wanted. I would have understood. You didn’t have to leave without saying goodbye. You didn’t have to-”

 You couldn’t say the words, so he finished them for you. “-leave. I know. I’m sorry. This isn’t an excuse, but I...didn’t want to lose you.”

  The words felt stupid as soon as he said them. You held your hand up to your head and said you had a headache. Haechan took the time to excuse himself and use the bathroom, locking himself away to figure out what he really thought was going to happen when he showed up at your door to get you back.

You 

  You collapsed onto your couch. The last hour felt like a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings. You were older and more equipped to handle confrontation, but there was something about seeing Haechan that made you want to curl in your mother’s lap like a child. You bit down on your thumb and thought of the ways you could ask him to leave your private space. There was a hotel down the street that was relatively cheap. 

  You looked at the photo on the fireplace. The little boy staring back at you had no idea one day he would break your heart into a million pieces. He was still a little unsure of himself, his smile unknowingly gearing up to be mischievous in a few years time. You thought of the grown man in the bathroom, and how the years had passed, but he still felt the same. A part of you wanted to pinch his cheek and wrap your arms around him like you would when you were young. An even bigger part of you wanted to kiss him to see if the feelings still lingered, even though you already knew the answer to that.

  Moving your foot, you accidentally nudged his backpack. You looked down at it. It was worn in places, with band buttons adorning the front. One of the zippers was open and the edge of something was sticking out. You looked at your closed bathroom door and back to the backpack before gathering up your courage and unzipping it slowly. 

  Digging your hand inside, you pulled out a corner of his underwear. With a quick “Ew”, you shoved it back inside. Your knuckle touched against something hard. You wrapped your hand around it and unearthed it to see that it was your book. You pulled it out even more and audibly gasped. 

“You liar.” you whispered.

 Hearing the toilet flush, you panicked and pulled the book all the way out and shoved it underneath your couch pillow. Quickly, you zipped his backpack and sat back, crossing one leg over the other. When Haechan came out, he hardly looked at you.

“Coming here was a bad idea,” he said. “I don’t know what I expected.”

You stood up. “Wait.”

  Haechan didn’t hear you. He grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder. You could see that his face was wet where he had thrown water on it. He didn’t make eye contact with you, just waved his hand and apologized for being an inconvenience. 

“Leaving again?” you said.

  Haechan stopped moving. He turned back. “I thought about you every day I was gone. Every day. And every day, my next thought was that I didn’t deserve you.”

 You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing at all. For a beat or two, you both stared, your eyes searching each other's. You could see every age of Haechan since you’d known him on his face, from the adorable child to the handsome adult. 

  You let Haechan leave this time. He closed the door with a soft click, his presence feeling like a fever dream. Mindlessly, you sat back down on your couch, and only remembered the book still laying there after some time.

 You took your book and placed it on your lap. It was so worn that some of the pages were slipping out of the binding. You opened it carefully and flipped through the pages, the margins filled up with black pen ink. Haechan had written down his input on most pages with things like:

Am I really like this? There is no way this guy is cooler than me.

You know? You’re actually kind of funny. 

Your mother was better than us all.

  You closed the book with a snap and felt the tears falling. You put your head down and tried to feel everything all at once.

                                                         ~♡~

  Your agent walked next to you, her stride slowing to match yours. She didn’t outright say you looked like shit, though it was the truth. Your eyes were a little red, your cheeks were puffy, and you kept itching your neck all throughout the night until there were red scratch marks all on your skin.

 She held open the door to the bookstore “Are you nervous?”

“Am I nervous?” you asked. “I’m shitting myself. I don’t think anyone is going to show up, but with my life, I’m pretty sure I can deal with the embarrassment.”

 Your agent rattled on and on about how special you were to people. She dragged you throughout the two story bookstore, pulling you harder when you tried stalling. You mostly blocked out her words to save your sanity. You didn’t love when people tried buttering you up.

“Just over in this section.” she said. “It starts in twenty minutes, so don’t expect many people right away.”

  When you both turned the corner, there was a sizable line leading up to a table stacked with new books. When the people saw you, they gawked. Some clapped, which made your face turn as hot as your neck. 

“I can’t do this.” you whispered.

  Your agent directed you to a chair, holding you down by your shoulders, so you wouldn’t run away. You took a sip of cold water sitting by your side.

“They’re all here for you.” she said. “Smile and try to be happy.”

“I’ll try.” you said, but when someone smiled at you in front of the line, you felt yourself returning a genuine smile.

 Twenty minutes passed by faster than you wished. When the first person approached the table, you tried to remember your school teachers who believed in you. You recalled all the people who inspired your stories, making a mental bid to thank them for making the first signing so sweet. 

“I really love how you write.” someone had said. Hearing those words made you feel touched. You tried your hardest not to tear up, signing your sloppy signature as best you could.

“Thank you.” you said, the gratitude you felt hopefully being translated well.

  You signed for a long time, the line growing and growing as time passed. Some people came with their own dog-eared books, others with fresh copies. They asked what your upcoming book was about, which made you excited to finish writing it. 

“There isn’t a set ending quite yet, but I’m writing like crazy!” you said.

  You looked down at a book before you and smiled, your fingers touching the pages softly. You signed it and handed it back, giving the fan a smile that reached your eyes. When your eyes locked with his, you felt the world move. Staring back at you was Haechan.

“I would have given you my own copy to sign.” he said. “But I seem to have misplaced it.”

 There was a knowing smile on his face that made you feel flushed all over. He took the signed book back and tucked it underneath his arm. Since yesterday, he looked freshly showered in a similar black t-shirt and jeans. His hair was carefully laid flat on his head like he cared what he looked like in public. He looked handsome, and his cheeks were definitely not puffy.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you read the book?” you asked. 

“You and I both know I don’t make the best choices.” he said. 

  You smiled faintly. There was pain in the smile he returned. You wanted so badly to reach across the table and smooth away the lines on his forehead.

“I know this isn’t the best place.” he said, turning around to look at the line behind him. “But I came here to tell you the truth of why I was outside of your door yesterday.”

“Okay.” you said, your attention no longer on those people.

Haechan continued. “You see, I’m not traveling anymore. “

“You’re not?” you asked. “Then, what are you doing?”

“I’m coming home.”  

 You didn’t know what he expected of you, but he looked a little deflated when you held out your hand. He looked at the book under his arm and back at your hand, his smile unsure. He took the book out and placed it gently into the palm of your hand. You placed the book back onto the table and opened to the space where you had signed your name.

“I’m not going to ask for promises anymore.” you said. “I’ve always asked you for too much. For now, I would just like to tell you something.”

In the book, just below your name, you signed “I love you, Haechan.”

  Before you could even close the book, Haechan came around the table and brought you into a big hug that certainly felt like home. 

[darkspellpayne]

🌼Young Royals S2 Predictions🌼

Thank you for tagging me in this @books-books-smolderinglooks ! This was super fun to do and has filled me to the brim with inspiration for fic that I’ll never write. 😸

The rules are simple: Copy the questions into a post and answer them to the best of you ability. Tag other people to join, if you want to, and remember to use #YR2quiz (important so your quiz answers wont get lost). Enjoy, and have fun. May the best fortuneteller win!

1. What month will season 2 be released? August. Just to fuck with the association. But truthfully June. She’s a pride number.

2. What episode will Simon and Wilhelm have their first S2 kiss (who will initiate the kiss)? 3? But then I do assume that this season will have 8 episodes instead of 6 and I think it’s not going to be a ‘we can finally be together’ kiss but a ‘shit i miss you and can’t stand living without you like this’ kiss. I think Wilhelm will set it in motion.

3. How will Simon find out about August being behind the leak? Wilhelm will tell him.

4. Will there be snow in s2? The whole season will consist of snow. By the end of it, it’ll come out of our noses.

5. Will there be any physical fight (if yes, who will be involved)? I think so. Alexander against August. Simon might just jump in to defend Alexander.

6. Will Wilhelm abdicate? Nah. Much like Prince Zuko (my other disaster comfort character) he has honour to uphold. Mainly about making Erik proud as a way to deal with his grief.

7. Will Wilhelm make a new public statement about his sexuality? Uhuh. He will. What form that will take is a mystery to me though. Also how much he’ll give away. He might just say ‘fuck your need for labels’ and have that be the statement, which honestly, power move. He’d be doing it for God And The Gays. Just like Gaga.

8. Will there be introduced another queer character (can be a s1 character - if yes, who)? Yes. I hope it’s the new character and I hope they’re the kind of queer character who’s super involved with queer culture. Simon might be out as gay but I’ve felt like he’s not as well versed in the community as one might think. I feel like both he and Wilhelm could use a safe haven into the found family trope that queer communities provide. 

9. Will Sara become a boarder student at Hillerska? No because August is talking out of his ass of course. He’ll just end up with another Eriksson sibling nagging his head off. I think Sara will fixate on her newly dreamed-up future at Hillerska until it turns into frustration much like Simon with his money. Only Sara will turn inwards and take it a lot harder on herself mentally. And I’m afraid this will see her navigating it alone because by the time the time the dream has turned into a nightmare, Simon will have found out about her secret and broaden his Wille abstinence to include his sister. Honestly happy 2000-you-have-to-choose-yourself year to Simon.

10. Do we get a forehead kiss between Simon and Wilhelm (if yes, who kisses who)? I’ll have to riot if not so I choose yes. I want to see Wilhelm kiss Simon on the forehead in a i’m-proud-of-you gesture, turned face kisses, turned make-out session. Now, I will declare it Christmas if even a forehead kiss happens but a girl can yearn. And if it ends up being the other way around, Simon will be sat in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G Wille on the forehead, who’s one branch lower opposite him.

11. Will Simon and the queen exchange any words (if yes, who will speak first)? I think they will. I’m afraid the tightening on Wilhelm’s leash might just get so narrow, despite the good fight Wilhelm is bound to put up, that he can’t sit by and watch Wille struggle by himself any longer and goes to confront her. I can imagine him realising he still very much hates the current institution of royalty while loving someone who’s part of that and that those two things can be true at the same time. I think he will fix her with a look before speaking. Levelling the playing field. (i might just be projecting my desperate needs for this series here tho lol)

12. Will there be clothes exchange between Simon and Wilhelm (if yes, what item)? We all know what Item. (it’s the purple hoodie). For Simon hmm. His scarf that shit would be so cute.

13. Will Sara speak any Spanish? That’d be a marker of her end goal as a character right? Sara speaking Spanish would mean she’s rid herself of the shame of her own heritage, class and family. These things are major. So I’m not actually sure. I’d see it happen in a third season (pls gods). But maybe, just maybe, she might slip into her Spanish tongue when she’s hit rock bottom. At her lowest low, at the mercy of all the stress from pretending and masking she’ll be cared for by Linda and Simon and she’ll lay her deepest vulnerabilities bare in the language that feels most like home.

22. Will Simon and Wilhelm have any PDA (if yes, what kind)? YES. They’ll hug, hold hands and kiss. In that order. I think Wilhelm might take full advantage of his situation as being out to the school to do what he truly wants. It might take a little more feeling out the situation and all but I see him being determined in not holding back any longer.

14. Will Simon become aware of Wilhelm's anxiety? Yes. I think it will put some things in perspective for him as well. But I think he might become aware of it in a time where they’re not together yet. Simon will be observing Wilhelm from a distance and see his signs. I think he’ll worry about him at this new realisation but he’ll also feel like he can’t approach Wilhelm because they’re not close like that yet and Simon really has to focus on himself first before he can care for Wilhelm again. That’ll be a big struggle for him I feel. Everything in him will be screaming to help his boy. But he also knows that it would halt all progress on his new made boundaries.

15. Will Wilhelm break the 4th wall at some point? The series doesn’t officially start until those big sad and frustrated eyes meet mine across the screen, that’s for sure. But I also don’t put it past the series to have this moment be marked by Simon.

16. Will Alexander get some sort of revenge (if yes, how)? Absolutely. Han havner på en skole i Sveits my ass. I don’t know how far he’ll take it. He could either see Wilhelm as an equal enemy to August (ew i know, unfathomable). Or, and I root for this (we will all be rooting for you!) he’ll find an ally in both Wilhelm and Simon and help them bring August to justice to their own satisfaction. Alexander is a grey mouse in this universe and he could play that to his power and come out victorious on top where he’ll become a more layered character. I bet that as an often ignored person in the room, he for sure has some dirt on that whole society but especially August as he’s followed him like a puppy. He’ll act as karma personified #RevolutionForAlexander

17. Will Erik appear in any form (letter, flashback, etc.)? Hmm. I see him appear in audio form. Quick flashes of smirking whispers in Wille’s direction. A warning, a mundane request triggered by area and occasion. I think this will have a haunting effect on Wilhelm. It’ll have him breaking down over what could have been in the middle of whatever. Creeping grief but flash-bright when it actually is present.

18. How many characters will cry (with tears) - who? I think they all will tbh. The amount of shit the oncoming storm is going to bring will leave no one dry I think because they’re so impactful on a bigger scale. One thing though, I hope Alexander gets to smile. Genuinely. He’s the only character I don’t want to cry.

19. Will Simon and/or Wilhelm say 'Jag älskar dig' (if yes, who says it first - will they both say it)? I’m not sure. They’re gonna go through a shitstorm. First separately and I assume then together. But I think the time in between trusting again and forming an actual relationship is too short to goalpost that. But if it happens, I’d see Wille wait for Simon to say it back. Give him the space he asked for properly. It’ll be around the end of the season just like Wille. I can dream up a million routes that the i love you scene could happen from both their ends but this is it for now. Maybe I should write fic about it?

20. How many times will we see Simon eat pasta? A total of four times. Once at home, once at the Forest Ridge House dinner table, once at the pizzeria in Bjärstad and once at the palace, a special request from Simon to the kitchens.

21. Who will have the first kiss in season 2 (named characters)? I hope Felice and the new guy. I hope she gets swept off her feet by him. She deserves it!

Tagging: @ninibae , @earlgrey-lateatnight, @prince-simon, @lovelierbitsoflife, @royalrainbows, @royalglitternotes, 

[fanfics4all]

Unknown Weasley

Request: Yes / No  Maybe a Draco Malfoy X Weasley Fem Reader..? Y/N got put into Slytherin (Ginny’s twin) and never really fit the Weasley stereotype. Her family kinda forgot/neglected her and favored Ginny. Then they find out Y/N is dating Draco and they flip and she lashes out at them. A LOT of angst please, tyyyyy 💚🖤 Anon

Requests are open <3 Have a nice day/night

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Weasley!Reader

Word count: 2317

Warnings: Kind of abuse in a way 

Y/N: Your Name 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

When I watched my older brother’s go off to Hogwarts I was so jealous. They got to go off and not be stuck at home being forgotten. I was stuck home being overshadowed by my twin sister Ginny. She was the favorite of the family and everyone always forgot that I was even alive. It was horrible. But when the time finally came to go to Hogwarts I was so excited. This was going to be my time to no longer be forgotten. Ginny got called up before me and she was placed in Gryffindor like all of our family. Then I was called up and the hat was placed on my head. 

“Another Weasley, but you’re different from the rest. Where to put you…” It thought for a moment. 

“I know… Slytherin!” It shouted and my eyes widened. I looked at my family and they had the same shocked expression on their faces. I got off the stool and walked over to the Slytherin table with my head hung low. Some people at the table were whispering about me. 

“Isn’t she a Weasley?” 

“Shouldn’t she be put in Gryffindor like the rest of her pathetic family?” 

“What is wrong with her?” I tried my best to ignore them, but I couldn’t. They were right. Great now my family will remember me, but as the disappointment… 

The first year I just kept my head down and didn’t bother with anyone. It didn’t feel that much different than at home. Ginny had obviously told our parents that I was in Slytherin and they were so unhappy they didn’t want me coming home until school was over. When I got home, boy did I get an earful. 

“How the bloody hell could you be a Slytherin!?” My Mother shouted. 

“I didn’t choose to be in Slytherin!” I cried. 

“I bet she did, she’s never been like us.” Ron said and I narrowed my eyes at him. 

“Go to your room, no supper for you!” Mother shouted and I ran up the stairs. I got shoved into the attic and that’s been my room ever since. I threw myself onto my bed and cried my eyes out, until I fell asleep. 

That’s how the summer went pretty much. My house would be brought up a few times a week and then I would be sent to my room with no food. I hated it. Everything just got so much worse and there was nothing I could do to fix it… 

When it was time to return to Hogwarts I was shocked that my parents actually made an effort to remember to take me back. I walked onto the train and found an empty compartment. I decided that I would get a head start on studying and so I took out my old books and got to reading one. Everything was fine until the train started moving and someone opened the door to my compartment. 

“What are you doing here?” The voice of Draco Malfoy filled my ears. I looked up to see the platinum blonde boy with silver eyes. 

“Um, sitting and studying?” I answered with furrowed brows. 

“Shouldn’t you be with your pathetic blood-traitor family?” He asked with a sneer and I rolled my eyes. 

“No, they’re not happy with me.” I answered, looking back down to my book. 

“Because you’ve ruined their perfect Gryffindor line?” He asked with a laugh. 

“Yes actually, so unless you’re going to actually sit in here during the ride, I suggest you fuck off.” I answered without looking up from my book. There was silence and I heard the door close. What I wasn’t expecting was Draco sitting next to me. I glanced up and he was staring at me. 

“Can I help you?” I asked. 

“Your family is honestly upset with you because of the house you’re in?” He asked and I nodded with a sigh. 

“Believe it or not this is the most attention I’ve gotten from them.” I said and his eyes wided. 

“Really? I thought they loved all their children.” He said and I shook my head. 

“No, well I don’t know if they don’t love me, but they certainly don’t like me.” I said. 

“I know what that’s like…” He whispered. 

“What?” I asked and he looked up at me. 

“My Father is quite strict with me and honestly it seems like he doesn’t love me sometimes.” He answered. I closed my book and placed my hand on his. 

“I’m sorry Draco, no one deserves that.” I said and to my shock he didn’t pull away. 

“You don’t either.” He said and I smiled. For the first time in my life I felt happy and like I was seen. The whole train ride Draco and I kept talking about what we were interested in, what we were excited about this year, and about possibly going to Hogsmeade together. Draco even bought me a few of my favorite sweets. I was shocked that the person that was so mean to my family and their friends was being so kind to me. But we understood each other. We were each in similar situations and that seemed to be bonding us. 

I thought that when we finally made it to Hogwarts Draco would go back to ignoring me and making fun of me like everyone else does, but to my surprise he didn’t. Draco actually pulled me to sit next to him and introduced me to some of his friends. They were shocked that him of all people was socializing with a Weasley, but he quickly shut them down. Lucky for me my family seemed to be ignoring what I was doing which meant my parents wouldn’t have another reason to be disappointed in me. 

Throughout that year I started falling for Draco and when the trip to Hogsmeade came around Draco had actually asked if we could consider it a date instead. I obviously agreed and it was perfect. Draco was the perfect gentleman and insisted on buying me whatever I pleased. We first went into Dominic Maestro’s Music Shop and looked around. That’s where we each learned our music taste. Then we went to Honeydukes where Draco spoiled me with my favorite candies. Draco wanted to go into Spintwitches Sporting Needs and he got new gloves for Quidditch. 

“Maybe you could come see the game against Gryffindor this Friday?” He asked and I smiled. 

“I’d love to, only if you promise me that we’ll win.” I said with a smirk. 

“Of course love, I’ll make sure to work extra hard for you.” He said and I blushed at the nickname he gave me. 

“You’re cute when you blush.” He whispered and I blushed harder. He grabbed my hand as we exited the shop. 

“Hungry?” He asked and I nodded, not trusting my voice just yet. 

“How about The Three Broomsticks?” He asked.

“As long as we can get Butterbeer.” I said with a smirk.

“Whatever you want love.” He said and pulled me along with him. We each sat down and quickly ordered Butterbeers.

“What do you want, love?” He asked. 

“Hmmm, I think I might order the shepherd’s pie.” I said looking over the menu. 

“You have good taste.” He said with a smirk. 

“Obviously.” I said and flipped my hair with a giggle. He chuckled and moved closer to me. 

“You are so beautiful.” He said and I blushed hard. 

“Would you do me the pleasure of being my girlfriend?” He asked and I stared at him in shock. 

“Y-You want me to be your girlfriend? But you could have literally any girl in Hogwarts!” I said and he chuckled. 

“And you’re the one I want.” He said and I smiled. Out of all the girls in Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy wants me. 

“Then I would love to.” I said. Draco’s smile widened and he placed his arm around my shoulder. Our Butterbeers arrived and we each ordered. 

The date went perfect and Draco didn’t want to be shy about our new relationship. He wanted everyone to know that I was now his girl, but I was worried about my family. I convinced him to keep it a secret, but he definitely took risks. When we had off periods together he would pull me into an empty hallway and kiss me wherever he could. 

“Draco we’re gonna get caught one day!” I whispered. 

“And today won’t be that day, trust me love.” He said and went back to kissing my neck. I bit my lip to hold back a moan and he smirked against my skin. 

“Y/N? What in Merlin!?” I heard my sister shout and my eyes widened. I pushed Draco off and we both stared at her. 

“Um… I-” I didn’t know what to say. 

“What are you doing to my sister?” She growled at Draco. He looked at me and I was just standing there in shock. 

“If you must know, I’m kissing my girlfriend.” He answered and pulled me closer to him. 

“What?” She growled, this time looking at me. 

“You’re dating this git!” She shouted. 

“He’s not a git!” I said snapping out of my shock. 

“Have you gone mad?” She asked. 

“No, I’m perfectly sane! Just go on and tell the family about it already.” I said and turned my back to her. 

“Unbelievable…” I heard her say under her breath as she walked off. 

“Are you alright, love?” Draco asked and placed his hand on my arm. 

“I’m fine… They were bound to find out anyway…” I said quietly, but I could feel tears pooling in my eyes. 

“Hey, I know you’re hurt.” He said, walking in front of me and lifted my chin up. 

“It’s alright, love, I’ll be here for you always.” He said and pulled me into his chest. 

“I love you Y/N.” He whispered and I clung to him. 

“I love you too Draco.” I said. 

Throughout the rest of the year Draco and I had become public with our relationship. My brothers and sister sent glares my way and refused to even speak one word to me. Draco was always trying to take my mind off it and keep the smile he gave me on my face. But when it was time to go back home Draco tried to convince me to come home with him. I told him I couldn’t and that I needed to face this. So when my parents picked us up it was dead silent. But as soon as we all entered the house my parents turned to me with the worst expression they’ve ever given me. 

“You are dating Draco Malfoy?” My Father asked. 

“Yes.” I answered. 

“Are you mad? His family is evil!” My Mother said. 

“But-” 

“This is unbelievable, our sister is dating the biggest git in the school!” George said. 

“Maybe he spelled her.” Fred said. 

“With the way I found them, she was most definitely not spelled.” Ginny said. 

“Honestly, after everything he’s said and done to us and you still picked to date him?” 

“Stop it!” I shouted and everyone looked at me. 

“Stop talking about him like that! Draco has been nothing but a gentleman to me! He’s been better to me in this short time than any of you have ever been to me! For the first time in my life I don’t feel like I’m not good enough, or like no one can see me! Draco is the first person to actually see me for me and not just another Weasley! He makes me feel special and like I’m not just in the background!” I shouted and all they did was stare at me. I didn’t wait for their response. I stormed out of the house and ran. Draco had gotten me a ticket for the tub in case I needed to come see him. That’s exactly what I did. I ran up to the large door of Malfoy Manor. I knocked on the door and a house-elf answered. 

“How can I help you Miss?” He asked. 

“Is Draco Malfoy here?” I asked as I fiddled with my hands. 

“Yes, let me go get the Master.” He said and let me inside. I stood in the foyer and awkwardly waited for Draco to appear. 

“Y/N?” Draco asked and I looked up at the top of the stairs. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, rushing down. 

“I’m fine, but I had a fight with my family…” I said. He pulled me to him and kissed my head. 

“I’m sorry, love.” He whispered. Tears started falling and I didn’t even know I was holding them back. 

“You can stay here, my Father can have people get your things.” He said. 

“Are you sure they’ll be alright with me staying here?” I asked and he smiled. 

“You’re a Pure-blood so I’m sure they’ll be happy with that.” He answered and I cracked a smile. 

“Come, let me introduce you.” He said and pulled me through his house. 

“Draco, who was at the door?” His Mother asked without looking up from her book. 

“My girlfriend.” He answered and both his parents moved their attention to us. 

“A Weasley?” His Father said. 

“This is Y/N Weasley, her and her family had a fight because she’s in Slytherin and dating me.” He said and they both raised their brows. 

“You were placed in Slytherin?” His Father asked. 

“Yes sir, my family was very unhappy with me.” I answered. 

“You poor dear.” His Mother said. 

“Can she stay with us this summer?” Draco asked. 

“A Weas-”

“Of course dear, but she stays in one of the guests rooms.” His Mother answered, cutting off her husband. 

“Thank you. Come on Y/N, I’ll show you to your room.” Draco said with a smile and pulled me along. Maybe this will also be the first good summer I have. 

Tag list: @les-bio-lie​ @tashy-bear​ @ashwarren32​ @hollie-blogs​ @schisbro87​ @lover-of-books-and-teas​ @nerdygaloresposts​ @teenwolfbitches2​ @genius2050​ @drw0301bieber​ @softgamerking​ @lady-of-lies​ @ravenmoore14​ @ravenempress101​ @cillianchamp​ @rowanthomasknapp​ @in-slytherin-we-trust​  @dracoswhvre​

[yeojaa]

ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)

He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears.  You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard.  The best part?  You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main.  He might just love you.

alt summary.  Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.

pairing.  jeon jungkook

genre + rating.  fluffy crack. general, for now.

warning / tags.  long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish),  eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch.  tags are hard.  :( 

reading.   n/a.  a three part one-shot.

word count.  ~3400

part i.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Sunday, 10 November, 2019.  2:13 AM.

It’s 2:13 AM when Jeon Jungkook finally finds a match, the familiar in-game sound dragging his attention away from the illuminated screen of his iPhone to the monitor before him.  He studies the SR - 3779 and 3761, respectively - and skims burning eyes across the members on each team.  Four rocks, including himself, and two Masters.

One of them has a strange name - BIGMELON - that he stares at until he's zoning out, trying to make sense of it.  Was his teammate a pervert or just hilarious?

"Good luck and have fun, everyone!"  

Your cheer filters through his headphones crystal clear but he's somehow still surprised, head tilting curiously to the side.  He hadn't expected a girl to be playing Overwatch at quarter past two in the morning.

When there's no response - he notices no one else is in the voice chat, an oddity for such a high ranking game - he takes it upon himself to keep you company.  His username lights up as his finger glides across the ALT key, sleep-worn words breaking the silence.

"Thanks, you too."

Nothing follows until BIGMELON appears once again in the upper left-hand corner of his screen.  You have a nice voice, he thinks.  "Are you sticking with Widow?"

Jungkook takes in the team comp:  Sigma, Hog, Genji, and Lucio.  A little unconventional but not wholly un-doable.  They're on King's Row, too, which is one of his favourite maps.  Balanced enough that people aren't too salty when they get headshot but with enough coverage that he can get clear picks.  

"Should I?"

"If you want."  A pause and your hero slot is filled with Mercy's portrait.  "I can damage boost."

He thinks he can hear the teasing.  It's soft and sweet and a little rough - like you'd just woken up.  

"Who says I need it?"  Comes his immediate response, question chased out of his mouth by a laugh he can't help.  It echoes, filling the quiet of his bedroom.  He hopes you don't take it the wrong way.

"O—kay, Widow main.  We'll see if you get anything from me."

It's an empty threat because you're giggling along with him.  It's distracting in the strangest way.  The sound bounces around in his ears and he can't help but focus on it, realizing belatedly that he's still sitting in spawn as the timer runs down for setting up defence.  

"Are you going to join us?"  You quip, emoting right beside his stationary sniper.  "I didn't queue just to have someone go AFK."  

Mischief colours your words and he laughs again, snorting as he finally presses W.  Two sets of footsteps echo in game and he presses SHIFT once he's hit point - and with just a few seconds left to spare - launching Widowmaker's body onto the balcony overwatching it.  Mercy follows, Guardian Angel carrying her into the air to alight behind the blue-skinned hero.  

As the timer hits 0:01, Jungkook right-clicks, scoping in on the second-floor spawn door.

BOOM.

The kill feed reads DDEOKKOOKI x STRIKER007.

"I guess you didn't need the damage boost."  

He can't help the sound he makes - a marriage between a witch's shriek and a pig's snort.  It leaps out of his mouth, louder than he intends, and he feels equally bad for you and his hyungs.  He's definitely going to get an earful in the morning - or any minute now, when one of them bursts into his room to berate him for being so loud.  "I told you."

"Yeah, yeah."  The way you speak has him grinning from ear to ear, nose scrunching in amusement.  Mercy is flying across the map, healing stream trained on Genji as the cyborg ninja just narrowly misses an errant Hanzo arrow and dashes back to point.  "I'm gonna take care of the rest of our team.  Let me know if you need anything, O' Headshot God."

You're clowning him hard but he knows it's all in good fun.  Still, he likes the nickname and decides to keep it, effectively picking off the attacking team's stealthily half-hidden Junkrat and Ana right after. 

"Show-off!"   

Then he's dinked in the head - health dropping to 30 from the partially-charged shot.  He needs heals like yesterday.

Unfortunately, Lucio is up at choke with the tanks, skating circles around the base of the statue as they hold point.  Jungkook doesn't see you immediately - he’s scanning his screen for your witch skin (of course) - only realizing you've appeared at his side when his health bar begins to climb.  "Try to stay alive, yeah?"

"My bad,"  he drawls, scoping in the same instant the kill feed announces two more enemy deaths. 

There are only a critical Reinhardt and protected Zarya left.  The former falls the moment he drops shield and her bubble doesn't reset in time;  the Russian tank dies in the next instant, his charged shot firing the moment it hits 100%.  

"Thanks for the damage boost."

"Any time."

Then you're gone, off to support the rest of your team again while he grapples onto a different ledge and continues his oppressive gameplay.  He feels a little bad when the opposing team goes double shield tank and swaps their Junkrat for a Pharah.  He feels less so when he's slept out of nowhere. Four seconds feels like an eternity when he’s out in the open - vulnerable as a baby lamb in a den of lions.

"Looks like you're really making them mad."  You'd been relatively quiet when not tending to him - likely because it was only the two of you in voice chat - and he startles when your comment breaks the quiet lofi he has going in the background. 

"I don't know why.  I'm just having fun."  He's lying.  You're laughing.  

"Too much fun, I think."  

"Maybe they should be better."  Jungkook says this like he's commenting on the weather or the colour of the sky - offhand and nonchalant.  It makes your giggles come harder.  He can hear the scratch of your mic as if you've doubled over and it's now pressed into cotton clothing.  He can't help but pat himself on the back.

"Please don't tell me you're going to 'gg ez' them when we're done."

Now he's feigned offense, gasping at the mere thought.  "Of course not.  I'm not that rude!"

"Well, you never know."  You're right.  People could be the worst when it came to online gaming, spewing vitriol and hurling insults the moment their egos were bruised (or inflated). 

"I promise I'm not an asshole."  He's not really sure why he feels the need to make this abundantly clear.  After all, he'd probably never play with you again.  Korea's density of players was just too great - you were just one in hundreds, thousands, millions. 

Still, he smiles when you reassure him you don't think he is.  "I'm just teasing.  You seem nice."

"I am nice."  Spoken in the same instance he lands two consecutive headshots - one on the bouncing, wall-riding enemy Lucio and the other on the momentarily grounded Pharah.  You must see that, because you're mocking him in that dulcet tone of yours, caramel coating words and turning them soft like toffee. 

"Not according to them."  And not that you mind, it seems, because you're damage boosting him as he catches their out-of-position Rein in his sight.  He whoops in triumph, eliciting another bemused sound from you. 

"You know they're going to do everything to counter you when we go on attack."  Which was in sub-one minute, the timer counting down the last thirty seconds of your team's defense. 

"Who says I'm going Widow again?"  

You're scandalized.  "You mean you're not just a filthy Widow main?"

For a moment, Jungkook wonders if this is how his older members feel when he (and Jimin and Taehyung) mercilessly rib them.  He thinks it must be and oh, how the tables have turned.  He decides he doesn't really mind, though.  It's all innocent fun and it's keeping him awake, aided by the cold brew he'd chugged at midnight. 

"Woah - says the Mercy player?"

"Mercy is a respectable support, okay!"

"Sure, e-girl."  

"Take that back!"  How the words explode out of his headphones makes him momentarily worry he might've overstepped but by the way your laughter chases it forward, he knows he hasn't.  You can take it just as well as you can dish it.  

"Okay, okay.  You're a not bad healer."  Because he hasn't died yet and last he checked, neither had your tanks.  Genji had once or twice - to be expected, given his playstyle - and you had, but that was still pretty respectable.

He can practically hear you rolling your eyes.  "Oh, thanks."  

"Any time, BigMelon."  

"That's ‘daebak’ to you, pal."  Had he heard you wrong?

"What'd you say?"  

There's a long pause - he's not sure whether it's for comedic purpose or something else.  You sound muffled on the other end, as if you're repressing sound.  "Because watermelon?  Su-bak?  So big melon is dae-bak?"  Whatever you had stifled earlier disappears, torn away by the pride that shines bright yellow and boisterous in your peals of laughter.

It's such a bad joke that Jungkook feels like he's about to have an aneurysm.  Were you Jin moonlighting as a Master support player? 

"You're kidding me."  He wonders if you hear him above your own glee, giggles making it hard for him to hear himself think.  "What're you - a dad?"

You scoff now, parroting his words back to him.  "What're you - the pun police?"  

Another one?

He briefly considers ALT + F4-ing his way out of this match and away from your corniness.  Considers it but ultimately decides against it, instead remaining stoically silent and choosing McCree when the hero selection screen slides into place.  His silence will surely speak volumes.  

"You know that was funny!"  By the way he can practically hear your pout - it's endearing, much to his chagrin - he thinks you know where he stands.  

"Not the word I'd use."

"You just have bad taste, McCree."  You say it scathingly yet full of mirth, a sniff punctuating the end of your rebuttal. 

"Do not!"  He returns, just as quickly.  

"Prove it.  Laugh at my joke!"  You're shameless, confident, reassured - it makes him chuckle.  

You take it as his surrender though, your own laughter blending seamlessly with his.  It goes on for longer than is strictly speaking necessary, crowding like cotton balls in his ears as you leave sprays of your hero - Ana this time - across the spawn walls.  He wrecks every one of yours with his own, BAMF displayed in 1440p. 

"Hey - stop that!"  It doesn't matter that the round is about to start - you're spamming your melee button into him.  He immediately does it back, toggling between that and his voice line. 

The rest of your team is probably wondering what the hell you're both doing.  

"Stop distracting me!"  He barks into his mic, deep dimples on full display, nose scrunched adorably.  He doesn't really mind - it's clear by his hyena cackles that follow - and he likes when your chorus of shut up's pitch and leap with your giggling. 

As he navigates McCree out behind your tanks, he can't help but wish - maybe a little selfishly - that they'll lose this round and go into a best of three.  When the opposing team's healers both die - one to Ashe's dynamite and the other to Zarya's high-charged beam - he knows that's not going to happen.  Your team's going to cap point and then you're going to be gone - off to the next game and never to be matched with again.

"We did it, McCree."  You sound deeply pleased as the last of the defenders fall, leaving point uncontested.  The Lucio on your team lingers by the choke, ready to boop any last minute hoodlums;  Echo hovers just above the enemy’s spawn, dealing damage the moment any hero comes in view.  One of your tanks is already emoting.

VICTORY flashes across his screen.  

"We sure did, BigMelon."

The cards come next - they're all for your team, though he isn't surprised.  You'd gotten 37 defensive assists whereas he had 27% Infra-Sight uptime.  He's sure you both vote for each other, the remaining four going to your other support's Sound Barrier casts.  

"Thanks for the carry."  He doesn't mean it facetiously.  This is some of the most fun he's had in-game in ages.

"You're welcome,"  you chirp.  He thinks you'll leave right after.

Instead, you both sit in voice chat in silence, watching the timer in the upper right-hand corner. 

"Do you want to duo?"  You ask in the same instance he does, breaking the both of you into a fit of laughter.  It's more distracting than he realizes, the FINDING MATCH countdown replacing the end game statistics while you’re both still cackling.

Luckily, you invite him to a group right as he removes himself from queue.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Tuesday, 24 December, 2019.  11 PM.

It’s six weeks and a good three dozen games later - a feat for him, considering how much of his time is eaten up by literally every other obligation he has - when he asks for your name, not realizing the consequences of his action.  

“Most people call me Jinny.”  He thinks it fits you, bright and pretty and punchy.  “What’s your name?”

Jungkook's unprepared for the question, though he shouldn’t be.  Of course you’d want to know.  Anyone would, if they’d already given their own answer.

He's silent for the longest time, quiet stretching on and on over group voice chat.  He applauds you for your patience, how you don't press him on it when the hesitation has descended from appropriate to downright awkward.

"Uh."  The word drops like a weight, crashing through the tentative friendship you've built over the past weeks.  

"You don't have to tell me,"  you supply as softly as he's ever heard you.  It's the first time you've seemed uncertain - and it bothers him that he's the reason.  "I get that we haven't known each other that long."  

As if that's actually the issue.  He would've told you the night you spent four hours together, taking wins left and right, filling the time in between matches with silly banter that had his jaw aching from laughter.  He would’ve told you on that random Thursday, when you’d listened to him talk about his busy day, effortlessly keeping him occupied - and amused - while your SR nearly descended below 3500.  He would’ve even told you yesterday, when you’d said you were going to bed, only to be roped into another six games by Jungkook’s eagerness.

It has absolutely nothing to do with time - or the lack thereof.

But he can't say that - can't tell you who he really is - so he improvises as best he can.  "My friends call me Jay."

"Jay, huh?"  You turn the sound over on your tongue, like you're tasting it for the first time, trying to decide whether you love it or hate it.  He hopes you don’t hate it.  "Then I guess we're the best J-duo to ever exist."

"Woah, we?"  He's only doing it to rile you up, finding it cute when you huff and puff and threaten to let him die in-game.  You never make good on the threat anyway;  you just like to see him sweat, watching as his health bar drops to measly single digits.  "I don't think I agreed to that."  

It's your turn to mock him, that same edge turning your words into sour candy.  "Fine.  You can find yourself a new healer.  We'll see how your SR likes that, Bronzie boy!"  

Neither of you really take the game that seriously but he gasps like he's been shot.  

"No!  Don't leave me with them!"  The way he howls the plea is enough to return you both to your rightful place - one filled with boisterous laughter and things he never thought would see the light of day.

Because somehow, he's found somewhere he feels safe - a place he feels like himself, with no pretenses or expectations.  It’s where he can rant and rave, bouncing from topic to topic like an energizer bunny with no end in sight.  It’s, oddly enough, with you.  

Connected through voice chat and built by an endless stream of communication - sometimes productive, other times not - the space you’ve carved out together has come to feel like a third home.  It isn’t quite what he has with his family or his members but it’s just as nice.

Different, but nice.

"Fine.  You're forgiven."  You sniff in that peculiar way of yours and he snickers loudly.  "How was your day?"

And this is why it is - because it's ordinary.  It’s where Jungkook can rest his head and drift for a while without worry of what’s over the horizon, ready to swallow him whole the moment he takes his eyes off the calm blue sea.  He's not raised on a pedestal with you, all the weight of his choices resting on his shoulders.  He's just a normal guy playing games.  

It might not make up for all the years of normalcy he's missed out on - the movies after school, the street markets on weekends, the holiday parties with classmates - but it's enough.  

He eats it up like he's been starved of it.

"Busy.  Really busy.  I had dance practice all afternoon and forgot to eat so I'm dying now."  There'd been a time - about three weeks in - when he'd chosen his words more carefully.  He'd been worried he might let something slip but he's found what feels like the sweet spot now, where he can tell you about his day without thinking he’ll suddenly shatter the image you have of him.

It's not always easy - he has to remember to never mention names or intimate details - but it's better than nothing.  He can finally tell someone about his day like he wants - all of the good and the bad, too.

"You should make something to eat!"

He's used to your reprimands but he still laughs, crossing his long legs beneath him as he readjusts in his computer chair.  "But we're in queue."

"Jay!"  It comes out devoid of static, clear as the waning sunshine that filters through his blinds and reflects particles of dust that drift lazily through his bedroom.

"I'll make something after we win."  He knows what you're thinking - that he's gone and jinxed your whole night.  You’re weirdly superstitious, something he's learned only recently.

As if right on cue:  "Shut up!"  

Your words sweep his expression up with glee and giddiness, like a kid on Christmas morning;  lines dig themselves into the bridge of his nose and the delicate skin beneath his eyes.  Jungkook tells himself it’s the usual pre-game jitters but he knows it’s more than that.  

It’s you and that infectious giggle that careens through his headphones, making him see everything in a pretty haze of warmth.

He’s not sure when you’d started having this particular effect on him - maybe since the beginning? - but he feels it now, clearer than ever.  Every tinkling laugh makes his heart speed up, thump around his chest like a baseball missing its mark.  The sight of you logging in elicits the biggest, possibly dorkiest smile, all slightly too-big front teeth and deep dimples.  You have him rushing through his post-practice showers and devouring dinner in half the time he usually would just to get online a minute more quickly.  

There's just something about you. 

And sure - a part of him wonders whether it's all in his head (as if it could be anywhere else).  Wonders if he's seeing you through rose-tinted glasses, doing to you what so many do to him.  Was he in over his head, praying to a deity that didn't even know he existed?  

Sometimes it felt that way - a little out of reach, like childhood crushes and summer love and wishing upon a star.  Certainly far too much for a blossoming friendship of just a month and a half.  

But then you laugh and it's Pop Rocks fizzling in his stomach and he knows that no - it's there and it's real.

Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met. 

notes.  i love overwatch and i love jeon jeongguk.  what more can i say?  :)