#hush hush hannah

[edenlhy]

badtober day 8: no color!!!!!!!!

in singapore we have the Thoughtful Bunch, five little potato people mascots who represent different values of graciousness on the train. from left to right they're

1. Stand Up Stacey (stand up to give up your seat to someone in need)

2. Bag Down Benny (put your bag down to make space)

3. Move In Martin (move into the carriage so others can board)

4. Give Way Glenda (give way to those alighting first)

5. and Hush-Hush Hannah (turn down your volume on your earphones).

to describe how much they've impacted culture is no easy task. they're so iconic people invoke their names in speech e.g. "eh bro it's getting crowded maybe you should Bag Down Benny"

anyway it's their tenth anniversary this year and i love them A Lot

here's the speedpaint:

[skymoonandstardust]

Just interrupting your regularly scheduled scrolling to say that if there are any readers among my followers, there's good news. i mad a book blog! so if you want any good book recs check it out

Brainfullofbooks – Got books on your mind?

I post once a week. and i created an insta account under the same name if you want to keep updated (as well as get some cool bookish pics and quotes)

read on readers!

[notesonfilm1]

Gods of the Plague/ Götter der Pest (Rainer Werner Fassbinder, West Germany, 1970)

A mood piece disguised as a crime film, about futility and anomie set in a marginal underworld of pornography, crime, prostitution, seedy nightclubs, and lowdown cafes and restaurants. Franz Walsch (Harry Baer) is released from prison but is slowly drawn back to a life of crime. He’s loved by two women (Hanna Schygulla and Margarethe von Trotta). The first is obsessed with and will betray him,…

[pyro-les]

Bad omen - Rio Vidal X Reader

2.7k words - Warnings: mentions of death

Taglist: @thesharkwhalewhoohooooo @thecavalrywife @hannah-0730 @believe-in-magic13 @jenniferjareauwife @wandasreallover

"Be careful around her, kid." The woman whispered to the curios teen.

"Who is she?" The boy asked

"A bad omen that's what she is." The lady responds in a hushed tone. When he looked up at her inquisitively she adds on "Anyone who gets near to her dies. You see Betsy across the street died in a freak accident just a few weeks after Y/N had told her something bad would happen to her. She's not the only one who that happened too either, dozens of people have died after meeting her since she moved to town just a few months ago."

Looking up at the woman shocked the teen gasps "That's so sad! What an awful coincidence."

Tutting at him she replies "Oh its no coincidence boy. You see she's a witch. Anyone who meets her is destined to die. It's truly awful, what a wicked woman."

It wasn't new to Y/N to hear people say these sort of things about her, for years people thought of her as a bad omen, a sign of only horrible things to come. But it still didn't hurt any less, hearing everyone speak of her so horrendously so publicly. It wasn't her fault she only saw how people would die, she couldn't control it she simply looked at someone and saw their end. It was as if as soon as the universe had decided when they would leave she was the first to know. Sometimes she could know someone for years before suddenly seeing their end only weeks before their deaths and sometimes she knew years in advance.

When it had first happened she didn't know what to do so she simply blurted it aloud, she was only a kid. The woman hadn't taken her seriously, a young child telling them they wouldn't get to meet their baby when they were only a few months from their due date didn't make much sense so dismissed it. Their husband however had not, so in a few months when his wife inevitably died during child birth he blamed Y/N. He told the whole town that she was an evil witch and had cursed his poor wife and should consequently been burnt at the stake.

She would've died then had it not been for her mother, defending her child until her very end, hastily untying the ropes that bound her as the flames trailed up her skirt. She had managed to save her child but not herself.

Ever since then she had been on the run, more than three centuries had passed and she could never stay anywhere for more than half a year before having to flee or being chased out with pitchforks and torches blazing. She could never rest nor let her guard down, all the while blaming herself for her mothers death. If only she hadn't dismissed the flames she saw engulf her mothers body the night before, if she hadn't put it down to just a bad thought, her fears taking over her sight as she got ready to go to bed. It was her fault for not being able to stop it, that's what she told herself.

"Aren't all people destined to die? That's kinda how being living works." The teen says snapping Y/N out of her spiral of thoughts taking her through some of her most tragic memories.

Tutting at the boy yet again the woman speaks "Not for her so it seems. Legend had it she's centuries old yet still seems to look like she's only in her 20s. The way these witches get to live so long when they do such horrible things is ridiculous. It's just like that Wanda woman, she seemed so nice working for the avengers and all but bam one day she takes a whole town hostage. And worst of all she'll probably end up out living us all too."

Having enough of hearing the conversation Y/N turns to leave the town market, what had started as a nice shopping trip having taken a turn for the worse yet again. Just once she'd like to have a normal day out without being reminded how much everyone hated her.

Seemingly having spotted Y/N's attempt to leave the boy jogged towards her, yelling at her to wait up. She turned towards him a stern questioning look on her face. "Hi, um I'm guessing you heard what she said right?" He started, earning an obvious look from Y/N, wordlessly answering his question. "Yeah, yeah I figured." He really seemed like he wad struggling for words. "Well, um, I just wanted to say she's wrong. About it being your fault. Everyone dies eventually that's just how it works. I'm sorry she was so mean to you."

Shrugging off his apology Y/N replied "It's fine kid, it's mot like it's your fault. It's not like it's anything I haven't heard before."

He looked at her empathetically, "that doesn't make it any better." He said solemnly.

"I don't get why people are so mean about witches, you guys seem really cool. I'd love to have powers like you." He added on excitedly.

It was sweet, she thought. It wasn't often people said things like that in any way over than malicious envy. He was a really nice boy, it was a shame he was destined to leave the world so soon. Seeing what she saw was never easy but this kid couldn't have been more than what, 13? She would've liked to have helped him, if he truly wanted to learn magic she could've even mentored him if he'd let her.

"You're a good kid. Make sure you take care okay, spend time with the people you love alright." It was all she could say. She couldn't tell a kid so young, so happy he would die in just a few short weeks, it wasn't fair. He would be better off not knowing.

The teen looked at her with a small smile, a curious glint behind his eyes yet he said nothing. If he had realised the reasoning behind her words he hadn't said anything, perhaps he realised it was better off not knowing. Most people didn't like to know when they were going to die, it meant they spent the last of their time living in fear, constantly on edge instead of actually enjoying life while they could.

And like that they parted ways, she knew it would be the last time she saw the boy. It wasn't likely she would be coming back to the town soon, if the woman's warnings to the kid about her was anything to go by she wouldn't be safe here much longer and even if she did stay it's not like he had lonhg left anyway.

It had definitely put a dampener on her mood, knowing someone with so much potential would never get to use it was always sad. But the way a man called out to her in the street saying she had killed his daughter really didn't help. She remembered his daughter too, she was young, just married to a man from the neighbouring town and had moved their with him not long after she had seen her. She told the woman not to go their, that something bad would happen in that place but she hadn't listened and now according to her father it was once again Y/N's fault.

It hurt, having so many people hate you. She knew it wasn't her fault, she knew deep down death was inescapable and her powers were not what was securing that fate. She knew it was something much more divine that made the decision, that she could simply see when it had been made. Yet some days it still got to her. All the hatred and blame being sent towards her had effected her. Somehow at times like these all logic and reason were thrown to the side as unwarranted guilt flooded her brain. As she stepped into her home she lost all composure. Everything that she had been putting away to the side for years suddenly weighing her down, a colossal weight being unmovable as she sunk to the floor of her home.

She had started to weep, she had no way of stopping it now as everything people had said to her had started to ring in her ears incessantly. It hurt, it hurt her so much as all she could think of was how she should've helped. How if she could think of a way to use her powers for the greater good maybe she could save just one life. Maybe she could save the kid she had seen earlier? But she couldn't. She tries countless times before. She had tried stopping people from going where they were doomed to die, from leaving somewhere they should've stayed or meeting the person who would bring their demise to them. But it never worked, even single time they still died at the exact same time. Once their course had been decided it was a must. No one could stop people from meeting their end, not even death herself.

And that's something she had had to deal with for years. Being the embodiment of death hadn't left her numb to all of the guilt. Just like this girl Rio had felt it all too. She had blamed herself time and time again, searching for a way to avoid the inevitable, to get out of doing her job. But there was always a pull, an inevitable force pulling her to the souls, giving her no choice bit to lead them to the other side. She didn't ask to do this job, she was chosen by who knows what or who. The world had a strange way of working, some unknown fates leading people to places they never would have expected, giving them something they must do with no way out or even a guide to help them cope with ehat job they had been given. She would've done anything to get out of this role just as Y/N would have done anything to escape seeing people's fates or at the very least help even just one person escape them.

She knew what the girl was going through, she had seen her go through it countless times before. She had always wanted to help hut not known how, always having the excuse to stay hidden even when she was somehow bound to the girl, always watching as she discovered who was next on Rio's list of souls to collect. It was as if they were destined to meet, to work together but Rio had been postponing it for years, centuries even. But she couldn't any longer, the part of her that longed to comfort the witch finally taking over as she watched her struggle with her inner turmoil, a battle she was tremendously loosing.

So she finally did it, finally stepped out of the shadows, taking slow, tentative steps out of the shadows towards the witch. She didn't know what to say, how to introduce herself or to explain her job. How would she even begin to tell her that she has been linked to the witch for centuries, that she knew how she felt but she had always been too afraid to reveal herself until now. What if she was mad? Rio was after all the source of all her problems. Without death she would've never had to blame herself, to hate herself for powers she had no control over.

As Rio's own thoughts had started to spiral into more of self doubt she heard Y/N's voice interrupt the silence. "Hello?" It sounded both calm and scared, like she didn't know who was there yet felt safe with them still. Her voice was a tad rough from crying and yet she still sounded as angelic as ever.

Rio didn't know what to reply, she had been imaging what it would be like to finally reveal herself to Y/N for years. She had planned out what to say a billion times and yet now she came up empty, at a loss for words as she stared deeply into Y/N's eyes. Her glance telling a billion words as her voice failed her, not yet able to muster even a sentence.

"I feel like I know you." Y/N started, she sounded curious, like she knew something but was unsure how.

"In a way you do." Rio finally responding, the first words she could speak since she had revealed herself.

Curiosity clear in her voice she spoke again "Who are you?" She really should've been more scared or confused that someone she didn't know was in her house but she wasn't, she knew her she just didn't know how. She needed to know.

Unsure on how to respond Rio just stood still for a moment longer watching as Y/N slowly walked towards her as if just getting closer she could work out who she was. Just as she was finally about to speak Y/N paused, her eyes widening as she stared blankly forward. Rio had seen this before, she had watched from the shadows as Y/N had her visions.

As she came back from her vision she slowly blinked before locking eyes with Rio once again. Her vision hadn't made sense, she hadn't seen her death, she had seen her take other people, people Y/N had met, had seen die. There was no way what she had seen was real but her visions had never been wrong before.

Seemingly sensing the question Y/N was going to ask Rio finally spoke up "I take souls, everyone you've ever sensed were going to die and so so many more." She was sure there was a better way to word it, hell she had written introductions for herself so many times, trying to make what she does seem nicer, attempting to sugar coat something that was so hard to swallow. Yet now that she was actually here, talking to the witch she had waited so long to meet she felt out of her depth.

What if she blamed Rio? After all death was the cause for all of her problems, shy wouldn't she blame the root of all her problems? It didn't make sense for her not to, it's why she had waited so long to introduce herself in the first place. And oh how she suddenly wished she had waited even longer.

"Is it hard?" Y/N asked earning a confused look from Rio. "Taking everyone to the other side? Knowing everything they could've been, everything they're missing"

"Sometimes." She replied, pausing a moment before continuing "It's just nature, everyone dies eventually. But yes, sometimes it hurts still and when it does its one of the worst feelings in the world." It was clear there was a story there, that she had taken someone she didn't want to. Y/N wanted to ask, to know what had happened but she didn't. It was clearly a harsh subject and she knew how much it hurt to reopen old wounds. So she wouldn't ask, no matter how much she wanted to. She just nodded, not sure how else to reply but Rio didn't mind, she knew she understood.

They stood there for a moment, tension lingering in the air, the result of the roller coaster of emotions that both had felt. Until finally Y/N asked "Do they blame you the way they blame me?"

Rio hadn't been expecting that question, she didn't know why, it was a logical question. "Alot of the time. Some people accept their fate quite easily but most fight it. They try to blame me, beg me to let them go back and argue it's not their time."

"But it is" Y/N replies, she understood how it felt to have everyone blame her. "They never understand it's not my fault either."

There was an understanding between them, that even if they had never met before they knew each other. They understood each other on such a deep level, no one else faced the guilt and blame they had at such a level. They were in such unique positions that the likeliness of someone understanding what it felt like was practically non-existent and yet here they were. Two sides of the same coin. It was like they were made for each other.

Authors note:

I'm debating making this a short series so let me know if you'd like a part 2 at all. I hope you guys all like it and if you're new to my blog go check out my other Agatha All Along fics on my master list.

[03jyh23]

🌷⌇the weight of fatherhood finding our way back part 6; a choi jongho mini-series

ex-boyfriend! idol! jongho x ex-girlfriend! single-mom! reader

│ series masterlist│ next │

│synopsis: five years have passed since jongho last saw you. your lives have taken drastically different paths, with jongho achieving fame and you focusing on raising your daughter, nari, in quiet anonymity. when jongho discovers he has a daughter, he's determined to be a part of her life.

��genre: a slice of life, romance, fluff, some angst

│trigger warnings: unplanned pregnancy, illegitimate child, single parenthood

│words: 6.5 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there my lovely people! we are finally back! thank you guys for being patient with me, and waiting for this update! as always do let me know if you enjoyed it!

love, mon ♡

│taglist: │ @seventeenthingsblr │@DALSUWAHA │

│ @ateez-atiny380 │ @yoonshiiu │ @sndeoki │ @bomi-ja │

│ @vixensss │ @all-fandoms-rise │ @finnydraws │

│ @jonghosbrainrot │ @ateezswonderland │ @stayatinykatsy

│@chickenscoups │ @ana-stasssiaaa │ @starryunho │

│ @originalcupcakenacho │ @ultrapinkvoidbouquet │

│ @sweetinsaniiity│ @jennifermakmur│ @mitchii │

│ @hannah-97 │ @hyuckiesgf │ @treehouse-mouse │

│ if you wish to be tagged let me know here! ♡

"Uncle Wooyoung!" Nari's joyful scream reverberated through the KQ building, filling the air with childlike excitement. Wooyoung, who had been in the middle of his stretching routine, instantly perked up at the sound of her voice. A wide, infectious grin spread across his face as he caught sight of Nari running towards him, her tiny legs pumping as fast as they could carry her. Her hair bounced with each step, and her eyes shone with happiness. Without hesitation, Wooyoung crouched down, arms spread wide, ready to envelop her in a warm, welcoming embrace.

"There's my favorite girl in the whole wide world!" Wooyoung exclaimed exuberantly, scooping her up into his arms and spinning her around, eliciting a delighted squeal from Nari. As he settled her on his hip, he gave her an affectionate squeeze and asked, "How's my little princess doing today?"

Nari's giggles filled the air, her eyes sparkling with joy and mischief. She wriggled excitedly in Wooyoung's arms, barely able to contain herself. "Uncle Wooyoung, guess what? Uncle Jongho gave me a new toy! Look!" With that, she proudly held up a remote-controlled car, her little hands gripping it tightly as if it were the most precious treasure in the world. Nari's face beamed with pride as she presented her new toy, eagerly awaiting Wooyoung's reaction to this marvelous gift.

Wooyoung's eyes widened dramatically, his expression a perfect mix of surprise and amazement. "Wow, Nari! That's the coolest toy I've ever seen!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. He examined the car closely, turning it over in his hand as Nari watched eagerly. "This is absolutely amazing! I can't wait to see it in action," he said, giving her another affectionate squeeze. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he added, "But first, how about a super special high-five for being such an awesome girl and bringing this incredible toy to show me?" Nari's face lit up at the suggestion, and she enthusiastically raised her tiny hand, meeting Wooyoung's palm with a resounding smack. Her smile grew even wider, if that was possible, pride radiating from her entire being.

The practice room door swung open as Wooyoung and Nari continued their playful interaction. Jongho entered, with Hongjoong right beside him. The leader's gestures and hushed tones suggested he was catching Jongho up on some important details - perhaps about an upcoming performance or a change in their schedule. Jongho nodded attentively, his brows furrowed slightly in concentration. However, his eyes kept darting to where Nari was playing with Wooyoung, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth every time he glanced their way.

San followed shortly after, stepping into the practice room with a knowing smile playing on his lips. As he caught Jongho's eye, he gave a subtle nod, a silent acknowledgment of their successful maneuver outside.

As Hongjoong continued to fill Jongho in on the details, his voice a low murmur in the background, San's attention was drawn to Nari and Wooyoung. He approached them slowly, his heart swelling with a complex mixture of emotions as he observed his best friend holding the little girl so close. The bond between Wooyoung and Nari was palpable, filled with genuine affection and joy. San couldn't help but think that Wooyoung was simply made to be a father - it was evident in every interaction he had with kids. Looking at him now, holding Nari close, San saw it in the way Wooyoung's eyes softened, in his patience and enthusiasm for her every word and action. Watching them together filled San with a warmth that spread through his chest, but it was tinged with a hint of something else - perhaps a touch of envy, or a longing for something he couldn't quite name. He stood there, taking in the scene before him: Nari's tiny arms wrapped around Wooyoung's neck, her infectious giggles filling the air, and her eyes sparkling with pure, joy. Wooyoung was responding to her excitement with equal fervor, his face animated as he listened to her chatter about her new toy.

As San approached, Wooyoung couldn't resist the opportunity for some playful banter. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in close to Nari, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that was still loud enough for San to hear. "Hey Nari," he said, his lips curving into a teasing smile, "I think Uncle San is getting a little jealous. Look at that pout on his face!" He exaggerated a sad expression, causing Nari to giggle uncontrollably. Wooyoung then winked at his friend, his smile widening into a full-fledged grin that radiated warmth and affection.

San, catching on to Wooyoung's playful mood, dramatically clutched his chest and feigned a hurt expression. "Oh, the betrayal!" he exclaimed, his voice dripping with mock indignation. "And here I thought I was your favorite uncle, Nari!" He then chuckled, shaking his head as he reached them. "Come on, Wooyoung," he said, playfully rolling his eyes. "You know there's more than enough of Nari's love to go around. Besides, who could resist this charming face?" He struck a comical pose, causing both Wooyoung and Nari to burst into laughter. San then extended his arms towards Nari, who immediately reached out to him with unbridled excitement, her tiny hands grasping at the air.

With a theatrical sigh of resignation, Wooyoung gently transferred Nari into San's waiting arms. Nari nestled comfortably against his chest, her tiny hands instinctively clutching the fabric of his shirt. The sight of the little girl so at ease in his arms brought a soft, tender expression to San's face. "Well, hello there, my little princess," he greeted her, his voice warm and filled with genuine affection. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled down at her. "Did you miss your Uncle San? Because I certainly missed you!"

Nari's response was immediate and enthusiastic. She nodded vigorously, her eyes, wide and shining with unbridled happiness, locked onto San's face. "Yes, Uncle San!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with childlike excitement. "I missed you so, so much! This much!" She stretched her arms out as wide as they could go, nearly losing her balance in San's arms in her eagerness to demonstrate the extent of her affection.

San's heart melted at her words and actions, a wave of warmth washing over him. He tightened his hold on her ever so slightly, giving her a gentle, protective squeeze. "Aww, I missed you too, Nari," he replied softly, his voice thick with emotion. "More than you can imagine." He paused for a moment, savoring the feeling of holding her close before his eyes lit up with an idea. "Hey, I've got a great idea! How about we all play with your new car together? I bet we can come up with some really cool tricks."

Wooyoung, who had been watching the interaction with a fond smile, perked up at the suggestion. His eyes twinkled with excitement, matching Nari's enthusiasm. "Oh, yes!" he chimed in, clapping his hands together. "Let's see what this amazing car of yours can do, Nari! I bet it can do some pretty impressive stunts. Maybe we can set up an obstacle course for it!" He gave Nari an encouraging nod, his smile wide and infectious.

With Nari still securely in his arms, San led the way to a clear space in the practice room. The anticipation was palpable as he gently set her down on her feet. Both he and Wooyoung watched with rapt attention as Nari, barely able to contain her excitement, eagerly began to demonstrate how to operate the remote-controlled car. Her tiny fingers moved deftly over the controls, and her face was a picture of concentration mixed with pure joy.

From the sidelines, Jongho observed the heartwarming scene unfolding before him. A warm, content smile spread across his face as he watched Nari's joyful interactions with his bandmates. It was in moments like these that Jongho truly appreciated the strong bond they all shared. They were more than just colleagues or bandmates; they were a family.

As if on cue, the door to the practice room swung open. In walked Mingi, Yeosang, and Yunho, their curious gazes immediately drawn to the lively scene before them. Yunho's face, in particular, broke into a wide, mischievous grin as he saw San and Wooyoung playing with Nari. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he nudged Mingi and Yeosang, gesturing towards the trio with a tilt of his head.

"Well, well, well," Yunho called out, his voice carrying a teasing lilt. "What do we have here? Hey, lovebirds!" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at San and Wooyoung. "You two look good like that, you know. All domestic and cozy. Practicing for the future, are we?" His grin widened as he watched for their reactions, clearly enjoying the opportunity to poke fun at his friends.

Wooyoung's head snapped up at Yunho's words, a mix of surprise and amusement crossing his features. His cheeks flushed slightly, though whether from embarrassment or exertion from playing was hard to tell. "Yah! Yunho!" he exclaimed, trying his best to sound indignant but failing miserably as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "We're just playing with Nari. Instead of standing there making jokes, why don't you come and join us? I bet Nari would love to show you her awesome car skills!"

San handled the teasing well. He laughed and shook his head at Yunho's jokes. "You know," he said with a smile, gently patting Nari's hair, "if we look good, it's because of this little princess. She makes us seem cooler than we really are. Isn't that right, Nari?" He gave the little girl a playful wink, and she smiled brightly back at him.

Mingi and Yeosang, standing slightly behind Yunho, exchanged amused glances at the banter. They couldn't help but smile, without a word, they shared a look of understanding before making their way over to join the group. The practice room, usually filled with the sounds of music and choreography, now echoed with the joyous laughter of friends enjoying a moment of pure, unadulterated fun.

Yeosang crouched down next to Nari, his usually composed demeanor softening into a warm, inviting smile. His eyes sparkled with genuine interest as he regarded the little girl and her new toy. "Well, hello there, Nari," he said, his voice gentle and filled with affection. "That's quite an impressive car you've got there. I bet it can do all sorts of cool tricks, can't it? Would you mind if we joined in on the fun?’’

Nari's face lit up, she nodded enthusiastically, a giggle escaping her lips as she thrust the remote control towards Yeosang with both hands. "Yes, yes, please play with us, Uncle Yeosang!" she exclaimed, her voice brimming with joy. As Yeosang carefully accepted the controls from Nari's tiny hands, Mingi's towering figure appeared beside them. With a dramatic flourish, he folded his long limbs, attempting to squeeze into the small circle formed by the others. The sight was comical - his knees nearly touching his chin as he tried to make himself compact enough to join the play session.

"Alright, folks," he announced, his deep voice tinged with childlike wonder, "let's see what it’s capable of."

Yunho joined the group, sitting down next to Wooyoung, nudging him playfully with his elbow. Leaning in conspiratorially, he spoke in an exaggerated whisper that was clearly meant for everyone to hear. "So, tell me," he began, his voice dripping with playful teasing, "in this little family scenario we've got going on here, which one of you two lovebirds is playing the role of mom, and who's the dad? I really want to know!"

Wooyoung reacted quickly with a mock gasp of indignation, he gave Yunho a light push, making him fall back dramatically. "Oh, keep talking like that," Wooyoung said, laughing even though he tried to sound serious. He stuck out his tongue childishly before continuing, "and you'll find yourself playing the part of the weird uncle that nobody ever invites to family events. How do you like that?"

As the laughter from Wooyoung's joke faded, San's mood changed. The smile left his eyes, replaced by a thoughtful look. He gazed at Wooyoung, who was still joking with Yunho. San felt something in his chest - a mix of familiar and new feelings. It was warm but also a bit unsettling. He couldn't quite name this feeling, but it made him both excited and nervous. Without meaning to, San cleared his throat, catching everyone's attention. "You know," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, a stark contrast to the atmosphere of moments ago. He paused, weighing his words carefully before continuing, "I've been thinking... and I wouldn't mind it, actually. The idea of raising a child with Wooyoung, I mean." He let the words hang in the air for a moment, acutely aware of the surprised looks being exchanged around him. Gathering his courage, he pressed on, his voice gaining a hint of conviction. "We've always worked well together, haven't we? In everything we do. I can't help but think we'd make a pretty great team as parents too. Don't you think?" The playful atmosphere in the room evaporated in an instant, replaced by a tension that seemed to thicken the air. The other members exchanged uncertain glances, clearly caught off guard by San's unexpected revelation. Wooyoung's eyes widened, his gaze locked on San with an intensity that spoke volumes. A myriad of emotions flashed across his face - surprise, confusion, and something deeper, more complex, that he wasn't quite ready to acknowledge or name. San, acutely aware of the sudden shift in mood and the weight of his words, felt a wave of nervousness wash over him. With a slightly forced chuckle, he quickly attempted to lighten the mood. "I mean, hypothetically speaking, of course," he added hastily, his hand moving to ruffle Nari's hair in a gesture that seemed more for his own comfort than hers. "We're already doing a pretty great job with Nari, aren't we? It's not that big of a leap, right?" San's attempt to lighten the mood didn't work. His words hung in the air, and the tense atmosphere remained. No one seemed to know how to respond, and the silence felt uncomfortable.

Wooyoung, still visibly stunned by San's words, managed to compose himself enough to offer a small, albeit slightly shaky, smile. "Yeah," he said softly, his voice barely audible. "We are." The look he gave San was a complex tapestry of emotions - a mix of confusion and hope, intertwined with something deeper, more profound. It was a feeling that Wooyoung wasn't quite ready to name or fully acknowledge, but it was there, unmistakable in the depths of his eyes.

Yunho noticed the group's mood had changed. He wanted to make things less tense. So, he cleared his throat and spoke in a kind voice, even though he had been joking around earlier. "You know what? I think you two would make fantastic parents," he said, his words carrying a weight of genuine belief. "You both have so much love to give, and you're already amazing with kids." He paused, a warm smile spreading across his face as he continued, "But hey, let's not get ahead of ourselves, alright? For now, why don't we focus on being the best uncles we can be for our little Nari here?" With that, he turned to the little girl, his smile brightening even further. "What do you say, princess? How about we have a little competition to see who can make that awesome car of yours do the coolest trick? I bet Uncle Yeosang has some moves up his sleeve!"

Just as the group was about to dive back into their playtime with renewed enthusiasm, Hongjoong's voice cut through the air, gently but firmly bringing everyone's attention back to the reason they were all gathered in the practice room. "Alright, everyone," he said, his tone carrying the subtle authority of a leader, "I hate to be the one to break up the fun, but how about we carry on with our practice? We've got a lot to cover today." His words, while apologetic, served as a clear reminder of their responsibilities and the work that lay ahead of them.

"Hold on," Yeosang interjected, his brow furrowing slightly with concern as he glanced around the room. "Seonghwa still hasn't returned. Should we wait for him?"

Hongjoong shook his head, "He's still with one of the producers," he explained, his tone reassuring. "They needed him to re-record some parts. We'll have to continue without him today."

The members exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from the playful mood of moments ago to a more focused, professional demeanor. Wooyoung turned his attention back to Nari, giving her one last affectionate pat on the head before rising to his feet. "Alright, princess," he said softly, his voice filled with warmth and a hint of regret at having to end their playtime. "It's time for your uncles to do some work now. But don't worry, okay? We'll definitely play more later. I promise."

Nari's lower lip jutted out in a slight pout, but she nodded bravely. She understood, in her own way, that her beloved uncles had important things to do. San quickly scanned the room and found a comfortable spot where Nari could sit and watch their practice. With gentle hands, he guided her to the spot, making sure she was settled comfortably. "Here you go, sweetheart," he said, his voice soft and caring. "You've got the best seat in the house to watch us practice."

As the members began to take their positions for practice, Jongho couldn't help but cast one last glance in Nari's direction. His eyes softened as he saw her sitting there, her eyes wide with excitement, ready to watch her uncles in action. The little girl caught his gaze and gave him a reassuring smile, as if to say she was perfectly content. Jongho felt a warmth spread through his chest at the sight. With a subtle nod to Hongjoong, signaling he was ready, Jongho took a deep breath. He was prepared to focus on the task at hand, but a part of his attention remained attuned to their precious little spectator, ready to ensure her comfort and safety throughout their practice session.

The practice session was intense, with each member pouring their heart and soul into perfecting their intricate moves and harmonizing their voices. As they ran through their routines, the air in the room crackled with energy and determination. Nari, seated comfortably in her designated spot, watched with wide-eyed wonder, her gaze never leaving the synchronized movements of her uncles. Occasionally, she would break into spontaneous applause or let out an excited cheer, her enthusiasm infectious. The members, feeling Nari's eyes on them, seemed to draw strength from her presence, pushing themselves even harder to deliver flawless performances.

As the grueling practice session began to wind down, the members, their shirts damp with sweat and chests heaving from exertion, gathered around Nari. Jongho, despite his fatigue, managed to crouch down beside her, a warm smile spreading across his face. His eyes, filled with affection, met Nari's as he gently ruffled her hair. "So, little one," he said, his voice slightly breathless but filled with warmth, "what did you think of our performance?"

Nari's response was immediate and enthusiastic. She nodded vigorously, her eyes sparkling with excitement and admiration. "You were all so amazing!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with awe as she bounced in her seat, unable to contain her excitement. Her next words tumbled out in a rush of eagerness, "Can I learn to dance like that too? Please? I want to move like you all do!"

The members exchanged amused glances, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten as they chuckled at Nari's unbridled enthusiasm. Yunho, his face breaking into a wide grin, stepped forward. He crouched down to Nari's eye level, his voice warm and encouraging. "Of course you can, princess!" he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief and affection. "In fact, why wait? How about we teach you a few moves right now? What do you say, guys?"

With that suggestion, the atmosphere in the practice room shifted dramatically. The space that had moments ago been filled with intense concentration now buzzed with playful energy. Each member took turns showing Nari simple steps, their movements exaggerated and slow to make it easier for her to follow. They watched with fond smiles and encouraging words as the little girl attempted to mimic their moves, her face scrunched up in concentration.

The room soon filled with a symphony of laughter and cheers as Nari twirled, hopped, and swayed, her small body moving with the uncoordinated enthusiasm of a child. Her face beamed with pure joy, lighting up the room and warming the hearts of everyone present. The members, despite their exhaustion, found themselves reinvigorated by Nari's infectious happiness, their own movements becoming more animated as they joined in her dance party.

As their dance lesson began to wind down, Hongjoong clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "Alright, everyone," he said, a mix of pride and amusement in his tone, "great work today - both the practice and the dance lesson. But it's time we call it a day and get some rest. We've got a busy week ahead of us, after all."

The members nodded in agreement, their faces a mix of satisfaction from a productive practice and lingering amusement from their dance session with Nari. They began to gather their things, moving with the slow, careful movements of those whose muscles were just beginning to feel the strain of a hard day's work. Jongho made his way to Nari, who was now showing signs of tiredness after all the excitement. He scooped her up gently, his strong arms cradling her small form. "Ready to go home, sweetheart?" he asked softly, his voice tender.

Nari nodded sleepily, her earlier boundless energy now giving way to drowsiness. She rested her head on Jongho's shoulder, her voice a soft murmur. "Can we come back tomorrow?" she asked, her words slightly slurred with impending sleep. "I want to dance with everyone again."

Jongho couldn't help but chuckle, his chest rumbling with the sound. He exchanged fond glances with his bandmates, all of whom wore similar expressions of affection and amusement. "We'll see, Nari," he said gently, rubbing her back soothingly. "We'll see. For now, let's get you home and into bed, okay?"

As they made their way out of the practice room, Jongho felt a profound sense of warmth and contentment wash over him. The day had been filled with unexpected moments of joy and precious memories with Nari. He knew that balancing his responsibilities as an idol with caring for Nari will be challenging, but today - seeing her joy, feeling the support of his members, experiencing the unique blend of his two worlds - made it all worthwhile.

As they prepared to leave the building, Wooyoung and San approached Jongho and the now sleepy Nari. Wooyoung reached out, gently stroking Nari's hair, his touch feather-light to avoid disturbing her. His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, "Goodbye, little one. We had so much fun today, didn't we? You're going to be a great dancer someday, just like your uncles."

Nari managed a sleepy nod, a small smile gracing her face even as her eyes struggled to stay open. San leaned in, placing a light kiss on her forehead, his actions filled with tenderness. "Sweet dreams, princess," he murmured, his voice warm with affection. "We'll see you again soon. Maybe next time, you can teach us some of your dance moves."

The three men made their way to the parking lot, Jongho carrying the now-dozing Nari. The cool night air was a welcome relief after the stuffy practice room, and they breathed deeply, savoring the freshness. As they reached Jongho's car, Wooyoung stepped forward, opening the back door with careful quietness. Jongho maneuvered carefully, gently placing Nari in her car seat without waking her. His movements were practiced and tender, speaking of the care and love he held for the little girl.

Once Nari was securely fastened, San placed a hand on Jongho's shoulder, giving it a supportive squeeze. His voice was low but filled with sincerity, "You did great today, Jongho. Not just with the practice, but with Nari too. It's not easy balancing all of this, but you're handling it wonderfully. We're all proud of you."

Wooyoung nodded in agreement, his expression serious but warm. "And remember," he added, his voice equally low to avoid disturbing Nari, "we're always here if you need anything. For you and for Nari. Whether it's babysitting, or just someone to talk to, or even dance lessons," he finished with a small chuckle, referencing their earlier antics.

Jongho felt a lump form in his throat, touched by his friend's words and support. He smiled gratefully at them, his eyes shining with emotion. "Thanks, guys," he managed, his voice slightly husky. "It means more than you know." He glanced at the sleeping Nari in the backseat, his expression softening further. "She loves you all so much. You're making this transition easier for both of us. I don't know what we'd do without you all."

With final waves and whispered goodbyes, Wooyoung and San stepped back, allowing Jongho to climb into the driver's seat. As he started the engine, Jongho took a moment to look at his sleeping charge in the rearview mirror, then at his friends standing in the parking lot, illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. With a final wave, he pulled out of the parking space and drove off into the night, his heart full of warmth from the day's events and gratitude for the family he had found in his members.

As Jongho carefully maneuvered his car into a parking spot near your apartment building, the events of the day played through his mind like a gentle melody. With delicate movements, he unbuckled Nari from her car seat. The little girl, exhausted from her day barely stirred as Jongho lifted her into his arms. Her small form nestled against his chest, her head finding its perfect resting place on his shoulder as if it were made just for her.

Jongho's steps were slow and measured as he made his way towards the building entrance only not to wake the little girl up. As he approached the elevator, a wave of contentment washed over him, the day had been long, filled with the rigorous demands of practice and the unexpected delight of Nari's presence, but it left Jongho feeling fulfilled in a way he hadn't experienced before. His heart quickened slightly at the thought of seeing you again, however, as the elevator doors parted on your floor, Jongho's peaceful thoughts suddenly changed. Standing at the door to your apartment was a man Jongho didn't recognize. Almost unconsciously, he tightened his hold on Nari, drawing her closer to his chest as if to shield her. Jongho moved forward, his eyes never straying from the unknown man. As Jongho got closer, he noticed the man acting nervous. The stranger kept fidgeting and looking at his watch. Jongho's heart pounded in his chest, he positioned himself strategically between the stranger and the door, his body language a clear statement of protection. With a soft clearing of his throat, careful not to disturb Nari's peaceful slumber but loud enough to catch the man's attention, Jongho prepared to address the unexpected visitor. His voice, when he spoke, was low but firm, "Excuse me," Jongho said, his words cutting through the tense silence, "Can I help you?"

"She was with you the entire time?" The man's sudden exclamation startled Jongho, causing him to take a few steps back instinctively. His eyebrows shot up in shock, his expression a mix of confusion and wariness. "Nari was with you the entire time?" the stranger repeated, his eyes fixed on the sleeping Nari in Jongho's arms.

Jongho's protective instincts kicked into overdrive. He shifted his stance, angling his body to further shield Nari from the man's intense gaze. His voice, when he spoke, was cautious and measured. "Yes, she was. May I ask who you are and why you're asking about my daughter?" The tension in the hallway was palpable as Jongho waited for the man's response, his mind racing with possibilities and concerns. He tightened his hold on Nari ever so slightly, ready to act if necessary to ensure her safety.

The man's eyes narrowed, a scoff escaping his lips. His earlier nervousness had completely evaporated, replaced by a confrontational demeanor that sent a chill down Jongho's spine. "Oh, so now she's suddenly yours?" he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm and barely contained anger. The words hung in the air, heavy with accusation and resentment. "That's rich, coming from someone who's been absent all this time."

Jongho's confusion deepened, his protective instincts flaring even more intensely. His mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. He was about to respond, to defend himself and his relationship with Nari, when suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, recognition struck him. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place, and with a jolt that felt almost physical, Jongho realized who he was facing. "Hyunwoo?" The name left his lips in a whisper, part question, part dawning comprehension. He adjusted his hold on Nari, preparing himself for what was sure to be a difficult and emotionally charged conversation. The tension in the air thickened as recognition dawned on both men, the atmosphere electric with unspoken words and barely suppressed emotions. Hyunwoo's eyes darted between Jongho and sleeping Nari, a tumultuous mix of emotions flashing across his face - anger, hurt, confusion, and something that looked almost like longing. The silence stretched between them, fraught with unspoken accusations and years of complicated history. Jongho took a deep breath, steeling himself for the confrontation that was sure to follow. He knew he had to tread carefully, for Nari's sake if nothing else. "Look, man," Jongho said, his voice low but firm, every word measured and deliberate. "I'm not sure what you're doing here, and I understand you probably have a lot to say. But this isn't the time or place for this conversation. It's late, and I need to put my daughter to bed. We can talk another time if we need to."

"What gives you the right to call her that?" Hyunwoo scoffed, his face contorting into a mixture of disbelief and indignation. A wry, almost bitter smile played on his lips as his eyes narrowed, challenging Jongho's claim with an intensity that seemed to crackle in the air between them. The tension in the hallway escalated palpably, the atmosphere thick with unspoken accusations and emotions barely held in check.

Jongho's jaw clenched, the muscles in his face tightening as he fought to maintain his composure. His patience was wearing thin, but he was acutely aware of the sleeping girl in his arms. "I'm her father, Hyunwoo," he said, his voice low but carrying a firmness that brooked no argument. "That gives me every right." As he spoke, he could feel Nari stirring slightly against his chest, a gentle reminder of the need to keep his emotions in check.

Hyunwoo's face twisted further, a kaleidoscope of emotions flashing across his features - anger, disbelief, and something that looked almost like pain. "Father?" he spat out, the word laced with venom. "Where were you all these years, huh? While you were off chasing your dreams, living the high life of an idol, I was here. I was the one who was there for Nari, for Y/N. I've been the one taking care of them, supporting them, being there for every milestone, every tear, every laugh. Where were you then?"

The accusation hit Jongho like a physical blow, the words cutting deep. For a moment, doubt flickered in his eyes, but he steeled himself, holding his ground. "Look, Hyunwoo," he began, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside, "I understand you care about them. I get that you've been there. But things have changed now. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. This isn't the time or place for this conversation. We're in a hallway, and Nari is sleeping."

Hyunwoo took a step closer, his body tense with barely contained anger. His voice rose slightly, the words tumbling out in a rush of pent-up emotion. "You can't just waltz back into their lives and expect everything to be okay, Jongho. You have no idea what they've been through, what I've-"

Jongho cut him off abruptly, his voice low but carrying an edge of steel. "I'm not going to listen to any of that," he said, his eyes flashing with a determination that seemed to catch Hyunwoo off guard. "And if it was my choice, I don't want you anywhere near my daughter." Hyunwoo recoiled, visibly taken aback by Jongho's sudden assertiveness. The air between them crackled with tension as Jongho continued, his voice barely above a whisper to avoid disturbing Nari. "Look, I appreciate what you might have done in the past. I truly do. But things are different now. I'm here, I'm her father, and I'm not going anywhere. Please, leave."

Hyunwoo's face darkened, a storm of emotions playing across his features. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. For a long, tense moment, it seemed like he might argue further, might escalate the confrontation. But then, as suddenly as it had come, the fight seemed to drain out of him. His shoulders sagged, the anger giving way to a bone-deep weariness. He cast one last, longing look at the sleeping Nari, his eyes softening for just a moment before he turned away. His footsteps echoed in the quiet hallway as he left, each one seeming to carry the weight of unspoken words and unfulfilled promises.

As Hyunwoo disappeared around the corner, Jongho let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. A wave of relief washed over him mingled with a mix of other emotions - guilt, sadness, determination. He looked down at Nari, still peacefully asleep in his arms, oblivious to the storm that had just passed.

Suddenly, Nari stirred, her small body shifting against Jongho's chest. Her eyes fluttered open, confusion evident in her sleepy gaze as she took in her surroundings. "Uncle Jongho?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. Jongho's heart melted at the sound, his earlier tension dissipating in an instant.

"Shh, it's okay, sweetheart," he whispered, gently rubbing her back. "We're home now. Let's get you to bed." With a gentle sigh, he turned to unlock the apartment door, his mind still racing with thoughts of the challenges that lay ahead. But for now, all that mattered was comforting Nari and finding a moment of peace in the quiet of the night.

♡│if you enjoy my writing please consider supporting me by tagging and reblogging│♡

[fluffy-dixon]

You are my sunshine

Judith’s restlessness had become a shared concern. Rick’s grief weighed heavily on everyone, and taking turns caring for Judith was the least we could do to support him. But tonight, despite our best efforts, nothing seemed to soothe her. Multiple bottles, Beth’s sweet songs, and even Maggie’s toys from a recent run with Daryl—all fell short. Even Carol, usually adept at calming anyone, couldn’t ease Judith’s fussiness.

As you balanced Judith on your hip, trying to calm her while dishing up stew, Daryl noticed your struggle. His heart went out to you. With a delicate smile, he rose from his seat at the end of the table and crossed the room. Judith’s eyes widened as she caught sight of him, and she reached out eagerly, tiny hands grasping for him. His smile grew wider at her excitement.

“Here,” Daryl murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Lemme take her so you can’eat.” He cradled Judith in his arms, tucking her gently inside his beloved poncho. Her little head popped out of the V-neck, and he walked away, bouncing her up and down as he headed toward the cell blocks. Her grizzly cries gradually faded into the distance, leaving you with a mix of relief and gratitude.

-*-

As the meal concluded and the dishes were washed, you excused yourself, slipping away toward the cell blocks. The darkness outside unsettled you, though you hesitated to admit it. The route back was a labyrinth of corners and turns, shadows playing tricks on your senses. Your hand instinctively rested on the handle of your knife—a silent reassurance in this uncertain world. Normally, the sounds of wind, creaking buildings, and hushed conversations accompanied your journey. But tonight, a different melody filled the air—a lullaby you’d recognize anywhere.

Daryl.

His voice grew louder as you approached the cell. You lightened your steps, mindful not to disturb Judith if she had already fallen asleep. The moonlight streaming through the top windows guided you. Turning the corner, you almost tiptoed, peeking around the edge.

Daryl stood with his back to you, his silhouette illuminated by a single candle on your bedside table. “You are my sunshine,” he sang softly, swaying from side to side, hips gently rocking. Judith, cocooned in his poncho, emitted a contented gurgle, her eyes heavy with sleep. “My only sunshine,” he continued, the words a soothing balm. “You make me happy when skies are grey.”

He must have sensed your presence, for he paused. From the first turn toward the cell blocks, you had crept closer, stopping just behind him. Peering over his shoulder, you saw Judith’s glistening eyes, her struggle to stay awake. “You’ll never know, Jude,” you whispered, your heart swelling. Her tiny fingers twitched as she surrendered to slumber. “How much we love you.” Tears welled in your eyes, a lump forming in your throat. “Please don’t take our sunshine away.”

A single tear rolled down the surface of your cheek as Daryl turned toward you, cradling Judith with the ease. Her tiny head nestled in the crook of his elbow, she slept soundly. His eyes met yours, and a proud smile stretched across his face. For a moment, he seemed on the verge of saying something momentous, but then he hesitated.

Still swaying gently, his gaze shifted back to Judith. And then, in a voice filled with quiet determination, he uttered the words that melted your heart: “M’ready. I wanna be a dad.”

---------

Edited: 08.03.2024

Please message if you would like to be tagged

@yevmarie @thegeorgiahuntsman @hannah-murdock-505 @charlottewatkinsblog @maggie-atwood @welcumetomyescape

[sanakimohara]

“COLA” - B.C.

“I got a taste for men who are older…”

Synopsis: Having a crush on her best friend’s older brother was a secret Y/n L/n had managed to hide for years. She presumed those feelings had disappeared over time, but when Chris—or rather, Chan, as he’s called by the rest of the world—makes a surprise visit to Australia to spend his last break of the year with his family, Y/N is bewildered to find that she, in fact, is still infatuated with her best friend's brother. Unbeknownst to her, Chan is already well aware of it and isn’t above taking advantage of her innocent crush on him. All fun and games, right?

WARNINGS: [MDNI! 18+] pining, fluff, smut, a bit of angst, cursing, smoking, and alcohol use. oh and the DDGL dynamic is implied…

A/N: Let’s hope I don’t scrap this and at least finish writing it…also Chan is his current age 25 and the reader is 18+

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*click click click*

The pen in her hand chirped the sound repeatedly as she anxiously toyed with it. Her foot tapped under the desk she sat at, another sign of her stress level rising and a less noisy indicator of nervousness to her peers seated around her. Y/N took a deep breath, trying to clear her racing mind for a split second to conjure up an answer to the question printed on the paper in front of her.

It seemed impossible to focus on the invisible weight of perfectionism that she subconsciously mounted. It was just a test. A written one. No big deal. She’d been completing assessments like this all year. However, the notion of it being the final and most important test of the year had Y/n second-guessing knowledge she’d consumed tirelessly throughout the year. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she inhaled and exhaled as slowly as her body would allow her to before her gaze refocused on the question.

She scanned it once, then twice; the answer to it eventually peeked through the fog that was her brain. She jotted it down with urgency before flipping the paper over to signal she was done. The professor monitoring the room full of boarding students lifts their heads at the sound of a paper turning. To no surprise, Y/N is the culprit of the clumsy noise but receives no reprimand from the instructor. Instead, they smile and motion for the young woman to hand her packet of questions in.

Y/N wastes no time in doing so, gathering her personal belongings before retrieving the paper. She cautiously descends the stairs that lead towards the professor's desk, and when she reaches her destination, she smiles sweetly and places the packet in the professor’s waiting hand. “You had me worried for a moment Ms, L/n,” they joke with a knowing smile and said girl nervously glanced at her shoes before answering in a hushed voice with a coy smile. “I was worried for myself actually…” It’s the truth. Her anxiety always worsened under pressure -especially during tests.

The professor maintained their smile and began grading her packet which slightly unnerved Y/n. “I don’t see why you’d be worried Ms. L/n. Your work has been exceptional the whole year….” The paused, pen pointed right at Y/n, “…you shouldn’t worry so much all the time. You can relax sometimes, it’s healthy for you, you know?” Y/n nodded, internally grimacing as they repeated advice she’d heard a thousand times before, but found it increasingly harder to do in a prestigious school without a single friend there to “relax” with.

She wasn’t a social butterfly but she did prefer the company of friends she’d grown close to throughout her childhood. Unfortunately, most of them attended other universities, started a family early, or just down right fell of the face of the earth at some point. The only person she had left to spend time with was Hannah Bang. Her best friend since grade school who had chosen to attained university closer to her family.

Y/n wished she could’ve done the same but her parents would never allow it, so here she was being told to find joy in her life of education without a single person to do so with. “I’ll keep that in mind Professor. May I leave now?” Y/n already knew they wouldn’t deny her request since it was the last day of the semester but as polite as she was walking out without properly asking didn’t seem right.

The professor stared at her a bit longer, a sort of concern swimming in their eyes as they processed her question. A moment passed and then the instructor wished her a good break and allowed her to leave with a simple nod of their head. Y/n let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding as she exited the cathedral like seminar room and entered the limestone halls of the large campus.

Not many students were out and about and even less took notice of her so she pulled her phone out and checked her messages. A smile appeared on her face as a new message alert from Hannah Bang shown on her screen.

>> You’re still coming right? 🤨

Y/n rolled her eyes at Hannah’s sarcasm. She could practically hear Hannah asking her this with a trademark snicker in her tone.

<< yes, I wouldn’t miss it for the world :)

>> Yes you actually would. Well, for a test or smth 🙄

<< wow you got me there Han…

>> I in fact do.

>> no but seriously…

>> I won’t forgive you if you cancel last minute like you did last year.. :(

Y/n cringes remembering how she backed out of her plans with Hannah last minute last holiday. There were a mixture of reasons she’d canceled but the main and most truthful reason was because Hannah had mentioned her older brother would also be at home for the holidays.

Like a coward, Y/n immediately backed out of staying with the Bang family hearing the news that he was there. She felt so ashamed and selfish of that decision and so when Hannah offered Y/n a chance to spend her break with them again this year she couldn’t bring herself to refuse.

It also helped that Hannah mentioned her older brother wouldn’t be making appearance like last time. Y/n gulped, face turning rose red, tummy doing backflips as the thought of seeing Christopher Bang in the flesh again caused her to malfunction. She chewed on her inner cheek, mindlessly wandering to lean up against a nearby wall as the few memories of him she’d religiously studied for years flooded her head. It was like all the logic left and all she could think about was him. After all these years she’d thought he’d be a distant memory or at least a less vivid one.

That just wasn’t the case though and no matter how many times she denied her attraction to Hannah’s older brother, the mere mention of him had her dumbfounded with adoration.

*buzz buzz*

Y/n snapped out of her lovesick daze as her phone vibrated. She’d totally forgotten to answer Hannah’s text and tried not face palm herself for it.

>> Leaving me on read is so mean.

<< Shush you’ll survive Han. I just blanked for a minute sorry.

>> Sure whatever you say 😔

<< don’t try to guilt me Han. You leave me on read like 99 % of the time

>> damn you got me there.

>> okay so you’re coming right? My mom keeps asking me so hurry up and decide!

<< I said you yes I’ll be there Han…

<< Just to be clear though….Chris won’t be there this year right?

>> …no why?

>> are you mad at him for something cause you asked me that last year too..🤨

<< NO I’m not mad at him lol!…

<< I was just wondering cause ya know he seems so busy in Korea with his band.

>> Oh I see.. I forget that you’re a closeted Stay sometimes.

>> No, he won’t be here though. Told our dad him and the members have too many end of the year award shows to preform at this time.

Y/n relaxed her body reading Hannah’s last text. A twinge of disappointment hit her heart but overall she was glad Chris wouldn’t be an obstacle in her break. Besides being attracted to him, her and Chris got along fairly well the few times she’d interacted with him while hanging out with Hannah. Due to his career and their slight age gap there wasn’t much Y/n could hold a conversation with him about and it was no help that she was in fact a fan of Stray Kids since their debut.

The pride she felt watching them on stage -watching Chan perform- was immeasurable but she assumed if he ever found out about her love for his idol activities he’d avoid her entirely.

A double edged sword that Y/n wasn’t fond of.

She told herself it wouldn’t be an issue this year though. Spending time with Hannah and Mrs & Mr Bang was all she wanted. Her family weren’t very….warm to be around. Especially not around the holidays so she preferred the company and hospitality of the Bang family anytime they offered it.

Y/n pushed her body off the cold stone wall, continuing her walk to her dorm suit across the campus as she texted Hannah back.

<< okay.

<< omw to start packing, see you in like 5 hours i think?..

>> your uni is only 4 hours away dummy…but yeah I’ll see you then :)

She shut her phone off, slipping it into her bag of belongings, and continuing on her way towards her dorm.

The whole walk there she was smiling, already reminding about the time she’d spent with the Bang family. How Hannah was and always will be her favorite person but most of all Chris, and the way his presence melted over her existence like warm honey.

As much as she wanted to taste its divine sweetness she knew it’d only make a mess of things…

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This was a series posted on my main acc but I decided to move it here. Please lmk what you think and if I should continue it. I already have PT2 in the works…

BONUS CONTENT +

[lovebotmo]

like the movies

chapter one - falling behind

series masterlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader

wc: 1199

author’s note: i am so excited for this first chapter. im forcing myself to pace these so i don't get burned out LMAO. i hope you enjoy this first installment!!! also not beta read so fight me.

song inspiration: "like the movies" by laufey

“Why haven’t you ever dated, Y/n?”

While the question had been relatively simple, its forwardness sent you into a coughing fit while sipping your coffee at breakfast. Sitting across from the inquirer, Luna Lovegood, you quickly mopped up your spill while throwing her a dirty look. The conversation at your table that morning in the Great Hall had consisted of relationships, past, present, and mind-numbing, wobbly-kneed crushes, but you hadn’t expected the focus of the chat to turn towards you.

To your right, your dearest friend, Hermione Granger, quickly jumped to your defense. “It’s not that simple, Luna. There are a number of perfectly good reasons why someone does or does not, in Y/n’s case, date!”

Hermione seemed absolutely content with her answer, patting you gently on the back with a kind smile. Her sympathy made you groan before you dropped your head into your hands. “For the love of Merlin, can we please discuss something—”

Ginny Weasley plopped down on your right, eager to give her two cents on the matter of your abysmal dating record. “I mean, you’ve had people interested in you, right? None of them have piqued your fancy? What’s his face—um…Lee Jordan! He asked you out a few months ago, right? What about him?”

“What about Cormac?” asked Hannah Bones. “I know he’s a bit of a tosser, but he’s not bad to look at. I sit next to him in Transfiguration, I could introduce you!”

Increasingly irritated with the course of the conversation, you piped up. “Thank you, Hannah, but I’ve got no interest in—”

Ginny interrupted, “What about one of my brothers? They’re bloody idiots, no doubt, but I’m sure I could put in a good word. What’s your type? Hmm—you into the whole cheeky thing Fred and George have going on—”

“Enough!” The four girls stared at you and your face that could easily rival a tomato with its present scarlet hue. A silence washed over the nearby tables in the Great Hall. A few odd looks were thrown at you from the surrounding students before their conversations recommenced. “As much as I appreciate your intense interest in my lack of relationships, I don’t feel like fleshing it out over cinnamon rolls and sausage links at 8:00 a.m. in the morning, if you lot don’t mind.”

The girls quickly began to apologize before you hushed them. “It’s totally fine, seriously, I just don’t want to get into it. We’re all good. Promise.”

As if sensing that you weren’t entirely ‘good,’ Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but Hermione beat her to it. “Y/n and I have got to get going if we’re going to make it to Potions. We’ll see you guys later, alright?” You could have snogged the life out of Hermione for the offered escape route. You and Hermione both knew you had another thirty minutes before your first class, but what the three girls didn’t know wouldn’t kill them. After swiftly packing up her things, Hermione linked her arm with yours, whisking you away from the other three.

Even though your next class was in the dungeons, Hermione steered you towards an unfamiliar corridor, one she had likely found on the vast number of adventures she, Harry, and Ron had found themselves in over the years. Arms still intertwined; she sat you both on a bench. After sitting in a few moments of silence, you squeezed her arm and spoke, “Thanks, ‘Mione.”

Returning your squeeze, she smiled. “I figured you could use a break from that inquisitive lot. They can be a bit much, altogether at once. Merlin knows how they’ll react when I tell them about Ron and me.” The two of you looked at each other in stunned silence before bursting into laughter. Hermione laughed at the imaginary image of shock and disbelief she imagined would appear on Ginny’s face. You laughed, however, at the thought that anyone could be unaware to the obvious affection shared between the couple. You doubted that Filch, perhaps the most oblivious man to ever inhabit Hogwarts, couldn’t see the feelings that had steadily been growing between Hermione and Ron since their first year. Feelings you had yet to experience at Hogwarts, despite your desperate desire to.

As if sensing your thoughts, Hermione peered into your face before softly speaking, “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I won’t push you or anything, but I just want you to know you have an ear if you want one.”

Considering her words, you peered at the ceiling that seemed miles away. Of all the people you knew at Hogwarts, Hermione might have been the best to unburden yourself to.

You turned to look at her before speaking. “Well, it’s like this. Take Lee Jordan for example—when he asked me out, he found me after Defense Against the Dark Arts and just said, ‘Want to go out sometime, L/N?’ And that’s it! I mean, it took him all of four seconds to ask—and I don’t know…I asked him why he wanted to go out with me—which let me tell you he gave me quite a funny look because of my question—before he said, ‘Well, you’re fit and nice.’    

Hermione laughed at Lee’s simplistic answer before you continued. “Don’t get me wrong, it was a fine answer, and I appreciated the ‘fit’ part especially,” you said, winking at Hermione, “But that was the whole exchange. No real effort, no deep interest in me. It was simple.”

Hermione smiled at you, “But you don’t want simple, do you?”

You shrugged. “I guess not? Believe me, I don’t want a live performance where the man of my dreams serenades me with a homemade song listing my manifold of attractions.” This time you joined Hermione in her laughter. “I’d rather die on the spot, honestly, than endure that, but the point is I don’t want to be asked out just to be asked out. I want someone who’s thought about it, someone who’s noticed the little things about me, and lets me know that he has noticed them. I want to be wooed, goddammit!”

Hermione pealed in laughter for a solid minute before she managed to catch her breath. Smiling, she replied, “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be ‘wooed’, Y/n. Godric knows Ron could stand to do a bit more ‘wooing’ when it comes to us.”

Turning your body fully to Hermione, you took her hands into yours, earnestly. “You don’t think I’m asking for too much? Being too high maintenance? I mean, I suppose we are young and still learning after all and—”

“Y/n, no. There is nothing wrong with wanting to know if someone truly likes you and wanting them to show it.” She squeezed your hands in assurance.

“Are you positively sure, because honestly—”

“I am absolutely sure, Y/n.”

“One hundred percent sure?”

“What do you think absolute means, Y/n?”

“…Point taken, ‘Mione.”

“Now then,” she said, standing and dragging you along with her, “we really must head off to Potions if we don’t want to be late.”

Trotting behind her, you smiled at your ever-punctual friend, “Yes ma’am.”

[magicbystarlight]

Too Late

Summary: An old friend asks how you are.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: 18+, angst, injuries, mentions of torture, loss of the will to live, death of a loved one mentioned. Minors DNI.

A/N: Been sitting in my docs for years lol

The greenhouse was empty as you studied the Devil's Snare. A quiet reprieve from the ever present eyes that followed you inside the castle. You may have been back at Hogwarts, but the thought of interacting with any more of your classmates burned your throat worse than the Firewhiskey you had drowned yourself in for months.

The pity filled stares.

The sympathetic ‘How are you?’s.

The condolences.

It was all fucking performative. Ernie, Lisa, Anthony, Micheal, Susan. They all offered their support from a distance after the first week. Like if they got too close they would end up like you. Orphaned. Alone. Bitter. The only person you were sure actually gave a shit was Hannah. But after everything Hannah had been through it didn’t feel right to lean on her.

A hiss escaped your lips as you bent the wrong way to fetch a quill. The rage that had built in you over the last year boiled over any time either of the Carrows opened their mouths. It was a childish response that was dealt with harshly, but you couldn’t muster enough care to reign it in. Eventually you would either have to shut up or swallow your pride and see Madam Pomfrey. Neither were likely to happen any time soon.

The cracked bones and bruised skin were less painful than seeing the others stand silently by. They heard every crunch and agonized cry that you didn't attempt to muffle. You wanted to ensure that the ones that turned their faces knew exactly how painful every blow was.

You’d heard rumors spread through hushed dinner conversations that Neville and Ginny were receiving similar treatments, but it was nearly impossible to speak with the Gryffindors. Snape and the others had taken great care in alienating the lions from the rest of the Houses, switching the Hufflepuff and Slytherin tables in the Great Hall and restricting each House to sit only with Housemates at all times anywhere they went. It was only through slipped notes between meals that Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were able to communicate. The professors watched it all with stoic expressions, the only hint of emotion left was in their eyes that were too frequently red. You tried not to hate them, but for every night you laid awake in pain, that resolve cracked. They were supposed to protect the school. Instead, they'd yielded it to monsters.

You almost admired what Voldemort had created. He and his lackeys had constructed a near perfect system of control, one that relied entirely on fear. Fear of pain. Fear of losing someone. Fear of death. It worked undeniably well on the student populace who feared for themselves, their friends, and their families. Nothing, however, was infallible.

They failed to account for the ones like you. The ones who had nothing left to lose except their own, miserable existence and who accepted reality. You were at war. People would die. People had died. Until the day Voldemort was dead himself, life would continue to be snuffed out by his people whenever it became too bothersome. You were well aware that you were pushing on being too bothersome, the only thing keeping you from tipping the scale too far being your blood status. Just pure enough to keep their attacks non lethal. It hadn't saved your mom, but you were young and pleasant looking enough to get to keep breathing, if only for a little while longer.

The door to the greenhouse creaked open slowly behind you. You spun, wand already in hand and a Stunning spell rolling off your lips. It barely missed the tall, dark-haired boy—no, he was a man now—who was ducked in the doorway. As he straightened, your wand did not drop but you hesitated.

He looked different than he had two years before. His hair was longer, stubble spread across the face he had been so insistent on keeping smooth before. His eyes were the same shade of green, but rimmed in red. His face was gaunt and he seemed unsteady on his feet.

"What do you want?"

He shifted uneasily, eyes locked on your wand. "To see if you're okay."

A harsh sound erupted from you, one that barely resembled the humorless laugh you had meant. Okay? You hadn't been okay in over a year. Not since you were pulled from class and told your mother had been murdered. It had only gotten worse since. "I'm fucking peachy. Now get out."

"I just want to talk to you."

"Talk to me? So you can go off and give a report to your Death Eater father? Piss off."

"That's not fair—

"Fair? How horrible of me not to be fair to someone who's buddies with the people that murdered my parents. How fucking unfair.”

He watched cautiously as violet sparks danced at the tip of your still raised wand. “Papera, please,” he said with hands raised in surrender, the old nickname slipping too easily from his lips. “I’m worried about you and I—I’ve missed you.”

Once upon a time you had dreamt of those last three words. Back before the world had turned to complete shit and Voldemort was less of a threat than a certain frog-like professor. Back when the end of the friendship was still a fresh gaping wound. Back when you could have believed he didn’t know better.

“It’s a little too late for that, Theo.” Your voice shook on his name as you clung desperately to the anger that was slipping from you. It was an unspoken promise you had made to yourself that you would only break behind the drawn curtains of your bed with a Silencing Charm cast on yourself so your sobs could go unheard.

Theo took a step closer to you as the sparks weakened, hands still raised. "It's not. It's not too late."

Another attempt to laugh tore at your throat. "It's not a simple difference of opinion anymore. How many people has your dad murdered or tortured? Tell me, have you been blessed with your master's brand yet? Or are you looking to use me as an opportunity to prove your worth?"

A violet jet of light shot from your wand into the door behind him followed by the thunderous sound of cracking glass as lines began to race across the Greenhouse windows. Neither of you moved despite the threat that now loomed overhead, both locked into place by the other's stare.

"I don't have it and I don’t want that damned Mark,” he said as he slowly unbuttoned the cuff of the sleeve on his left arm and pushed it up to reveal a clear patch of skin beneath. “I swear, I didn't know.”

You didn’t want to believe him. How could you trust anything he said? You didn’t even trust the people who slept in the beds next to you anymore. You couldn’t. Trusting people gave you something to lose. You lowered your wand, the glass creaking above you. “Can you do me a favor, then?”

“Anything.”

The way he pleaded that single word had your eyes squeezing shut to block out its anguish. In another lifetime, maybe things could have been different. Maybe that love that had once existed could’ve survived a bit of teenage angst. But not in this lifetime. You were too much your mother’s daughter. And he was too much his father’s son.

A solitary tear slid down your cheek. “When this is all over, make sure I’m buried next to my mother.”

[slytherinlizzy]

A silly headcanon about how I imagine the group finally meeting up in person for the first time. (Containing F!MC)

• When the group finally has the chance to meet up after the events in Duskwood have calmed down, everyone would travel wherever Jake and Mc are without doubt to ensure their safety.

• Jake, who makes sure everything's safe in the holiday home's area Mc chose out carefully.

• Both arriving hours later than the others, just so they could go unnoticed on the streets and bus at night.

• Barely entering the house, Mc would immediately find a mess of red hair in her face, arms holding her close. They kept whispering reassuring words and small news for long moments, Jessy hardly wanting to let go of the woman. By the end, everyone was hugging everyone, only Jake standing near the front door, only letting his sisters and Mc by his side.

• Quickly overhwelmed and overstimulated, the man was extremely grateful for Mc to hush everyone and make an attempt to usher them all to sit down on the couches and chairs in the connected living room-kitchen.

• Jake going all tense because Phil was there too. Not noticing at first, but sharing the same feelings as the black haired man, Mc quickly froze down as well. She knew she would sit between Jake and Jessy either way, and that gave her another reason.

• Never leaving Mc's side, the girls would sometimes have to close the oldest Donfort out of the room if they want to have girl talk.

• All five of them giggled and spread out on the beds in the girls' room, having a huge pajama party on the very first night. Even though they were in their twenties, they were gossiping and laughing like teenagers, and even Hannah was having a great time.

• At dawn, when all of them fell asleep except for Mc, she sneaked down to the bottom floor, carefully entering the only bedroom down there. For Jake's sake, she looked for a three-bedroom house so that he wouldn't have to sleep with Dan, Thomas and Phil for two whole weeks.

• As she closed the door behind her, she saw a slumped figure on the bed leaning towards his laptop. Jake was working even there, paranoid that someone was after them. Mc was at least as worried, but she lacked these skills to fall into complete paranoia.

• They sat silently next to each other in bed, watching the rising sun, and when it hurt too much to blink, they allowed themselves to close their eyes. Just for a moment.

• Mc jolted up in a room covered with bright sunlight at hearing a huge clatter from the kitchen, while someone grunted "fuckshit". Glancing down at Jake's black strands on her shoulder, she stayed in bed, not looking for the unfortunate person who had probably woken up the whole house by then, except for this man who was fast asleep next to her.

[cherryslyce]

Second Son (IX) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: Professor Slughorn extends his invitations to the friend group. Harry and Y/N have an enlightening conversation that leads to unanticipated trouble.

Part VIII / Part X / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Oh boy, it's been a long time coming for this plot point. Blaise's characterization and role in the chapter was purely unplanned, but I just couldn't pass up the opportunity.

You could barely keep your head screwed on straight. As you sat in front of your parchment, quill motionlessly clasped in your frozen hand, you felt your head wobble a bit. Harry is sat next to your inert figure, lips parting then closing as he tries to grapple for the right words. 

“Well, say something.” His words have you snapping your head over to stare at him, your hand shaking from the motion, droplets of ink descending from your quill to rain on your notes. 

Cursing quietly, you quickly spell away the mess and sigh, “Harry, isn’t it just a little strange? I mean for a good chunk of our last year, Dumbledore acted like you were a ghost, and now he’s giving you private lessons on what? Voldemort’s childhood?” 

Nodding at your (extremely justifiable) response, he runs a hand through his hair, turning to face the window in front of your table. 

“And you’re saying bloody Voldemort was an orphan– one that Dumbledore tried to intimidate? Bloody hell, the welcoming committee for Hogwarts back then was rubbish, I mean, setting an orphan’s meager possessions on fire?” Your words are tinged with amusement and Harry’s lips curl up ever so slightly. 

Shaking his head lightly, he drops his chin into his palm, “Magical fire,” he corrected, “but yes. It was strange to see the Dark Lord look so baby-faced and innocent. But Dumbledore thinks that I’ll somehow figure out Voldemort’s weaknesses and secrets from these lessons.” 

Sobering up at his words, your voice turns grave as you take in how exhausted your friend looks, “It’s all really happening then. The war,–” you pause to glance at your surroundings, “it’s near, and everybody’s putting you at the center of it all.”

Your words are even, but Harry is able to pick up on the bitter undertone, sending you a strained smile in appreciation. Of course, Harry couldn’t help but be in the middle of it all. Wretched prophecy. 

“I wish we could run away.” The boy next to you makes no move to echo your sentiments, “Once this is all over, I want to go to the beach.”  At your last statement, he smiles and his eyes glaze over, muttering his own silent wish. 

Your wishes fall on silent ears, both of you knowing that the likelihood of making it out of the war was slim. For now, you could enjoy this moment of solace with your burdened friend. 

But it seemed that peace would not befall Hogwarts for a long while. 

It was finally the day of the Hogsmeade trip, a time of year that usually had students bustling about in excitement. This year however, the energy fell flat as many shuffled in hushed whispers, either mulling over school work or worrying about the increase in death eater attacks. 

Hannah Abbott’s mother had been murdered less than a month before, and the girl’s continued absence at school had set the tone for the following months. Lady Abbott’s demise marked a new era of the war, and becoming accustomed to death would be a tough pill to swallow for everyone. 

The thought weighed heavy on your mind even as you sat with the trio inside the warmth of The Three Broomsticks, four glasses soon being placed down in front of your hunched figures. As your eyes dart around the tavern, you accidentally snort as you look into the corner of the room. 

‘Something amusing, little bird?’

Your surprised flinch goes unnoticed by the table’s occupants as the rest of your friends take notice of the source of your amusement. You had forgotten that you brought Regulus with you, his portrait lost in one of the many pockets of your jacket. 

‘Nothing much, crowface, it just so happens that Ron’s sister and an old dorm mate of his are snogging right in front of us.’

‘Merlin, will you ever let that nickname go?’ 

Smiling into your butterbeer, you’re quick to shoot him a teasing response, ‘Never. What’s so wrong with it? You’re my crow after all.’

Regulus doesn’t respond to your comment, and you were unsure if he was annoyed or too tired to engage in banter with you, but you barely have time to dwell on it as you see Professor Slughorn approaching your table with a twitchy grin. 

“Harry, my boy!” Harry is quick to spring from his seat, enthusiastically shaking the man’s hand in an exaggerated show of excitement. You were amused by Harry’s efforts, unsure if he was trying to impress the man for networking purposes or if he was trying to siphon information from him. You suspected it was likely the latter.

Harry barely respected authority. You were sure he only actually liked Professor McGonagall, and he surely never beamed like the sun in her presence. 

His conversation with Slughorn continues and you only snap your gaze up to look at the pair when you hear Slughorn say your surname, followed by Hermione’s name. 

“You’re both welcomed as well! Ah–Nice to see you, Wallenby.” You snicker at his remark, watching Ron sour at the man’s words. As Harry sits down, you can’t help but cluelessly ask what your Potions professor was talking about, having been preoccupied by your own thoughts. 

You nearly drop your butterbeer into your lap when he tells you that you’ve been invited to a friendly supper with him and ‘Mione. It seems that the man was already collecting trophy students for his Slug Club, and you were a little flattered to be on par with your two friends in his eyes. 

The Slug Club would be an opportune time to start networking, Merlin knows the connections you’ll need once you graduate from Hogwarts.

The high from the invitation seems to swell and soar higher, the embers of delight crackling wildly in your chest as you trek in the snow with your friends. Hills of unsullied snow stretched for miles and seemed to brighten up the grounds, consequently lifting away the veil of tension that clawed at the student body. 

Your high is obliterated almost instantaneously when a high-pitched scream hits you like a bludger. A chill cuts through your core at the sound and you find yourself racing towards the distressed noise, recognizing the shouting girl to be Leanne Trembley. The Hufflepuff was furiously gesturing to a crumpled figure in front of her that you failed to notice until that moment. 

Before you can even register her words, the motionless body in front of your feet begins to shove from side to side, before being dragged into the air. As the girl is suspended above you all, you curse silently and begin to look around for help. 

She was another student above your year, and quite a well-known one at that. 

Before you can run off to find help, you jump back as she suddenly comes crashing down, the snow crunching under her in protest. Nearly tripping over yourself, you peer down and see a tangled necklace glittering on the ground near her unconscious figure, a sudden pull of magic making your fingers twitch. 

Slowly releasing your magic, you flinch back harshly as it makes contact with the magic emanating from the gaudy jewelry piece, realizing it was likely a cursed item–dark magic. The magic surrounding it was like an inky void, its vicious nature barely contained by some haphazard spellwork. 

What the hell?

Katie Bell had been tossed around like a ventriloquist’s puppet in broad daylight. But who would want to hurt her? And who the hell was passing around cursed objects? 

You don’t get any answers from the adults. As expected. Instead, you all simply get brushed off with uneasy looks.  

‘It just doesn’t make sense, Reggie. I mean you should have seen it, she was being flung around like a ragdoll, and now she’s being shipped off to St. Mungo’s for who knows how long.’ 

After you were all dismissed from the necklace incident, you decided to head to the library for some quiet time, needing time away from your friends to think. 

‘A cursed necklace making rounds in the student body? Be careful, birdie. This is likely a ploy from a junior death eater trying to impress their parents. The Dark Lord would never be that sloppy, and he certainly would never allow the victim to live.’ Regulus’ words do little to soothe your worries, but you know you also have no lead to investigate even if you wanted to. 

Plucking a book from off the shelf in front of you, your eyes widen as something flashes quickly across the other side of the gap. Waiting with bated breath, you continue to watch as it flashes back and forth. 

It was only after a few more moments that you realized someone was aggressively pacing back and forth in the next row over. 

‘Reggie.’

‘Hm?’

‘Yes or No?’

‘No.’

‘Okay.’ Yes it is.

Padding around the bookshelf, you peer into the aisle to see a disheveled Draco, mumbling to himself like a mad man. His composure was nowhere to be found and you’d never seen him look so pale. 

“Malfoy, everything okay?” Your words are filled with genuine concern and have the boy snapping his frenzied eyes to you, a sudden shock coloring his expression before it’s twisting into a sneer. 

“None of your concern, L/N. Shouldn’t you be off with Weaslebee or Potter?” His words are fueled with malice and you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. So much for being nice. 

Despite your sudden eagerness to stick your nose in the Slytherin’s business (clearly Harry’s been rubbing off on you), you knew when to stop prodding. 

“Friendly lad you are. Do head to Madam Pomfrey, you look sickly. And as always, it's been a joy.” Shaking your head, you breathe out a small dismissal before you’re cutting past him and leaving the library behind you, head spinning from the wild trajectory of events. 

You should have dropped out of this damn school the moment that troll tried to splatter your brain across the bathroom sinks. 

You have little time to simmer over your thoughts about Malfoy and his distress, spending the following days chatting with Hermione and Harry about what to expect at the first Slug Club meeting. Harry had enlightened you both on the fact that he was chumming up to the older man on Dumbledore’s request. Of course, this news had you twisting your mouth peevishly, not liking the fact that Dumbledore was plotting something and using your best friend to achieve his goal. 

You found yourself becoming increasingly off-put by the headmaster with each passing day, but you’d remain complacent as long as he didn’t push it too far. 

As the evening of the Slug Club meeting emerges, you’re left to fret over your appearance and worries with a bemused Regulus. 

“Your circling is making me dizzy. Merlin, don’t stress yourself out, little bird. It’s just going to be a small get-together, and he’ll ask you questions about your career goals and studies.” 

Reasonable enough. 

Nodding in exasperation, you fling yourself onto your bed, careful to not lay on Regulus’ frame. Your head felt heavy with stress, and you couldn’t shake off the chilling feeling that’s been bothering you since the beginning of the year.

“Reg, can I take you with me?” Your words come out a little small, and you feel almost awkward by making the request, feeling like an anxious child. 

The boy responds almost immediately, “Of course, birdie. You don’t have to ask, I’ll be wherever you want me to be.” His words are light, but genuine, clearly not affected by your almost odd request. 

Feeling immensely reassured by his conviction, you can only release a small sigh of relief, feeling your nerves settle down. 

“Thanks Reg. I suppose I’ve just been out of it since there’s so much going on nowadays.” 

Regulus hums in understanding, and you’re almost tempted to just roll over and go to sleep with his portrait clutched to your body. The feeling of wanting to stay in your blankets forever has been a persistent one for the past few months. 

Just as you feel your eyes growing heavy, Regulus’ soft voice cuts through the haze that threatens to drag your consciousness away, “You should get going, Y/N. Unless you’re feeling unwell, if so then you should change into more comfortable attire.”

“Mm, no, you’re right, I should go now.” Your mumble is entirely unconvincing, but you knew you’d regret it if you decided to abandon your plans, besides, you had other matters to attend to aside from the Slug Club meeting. 

Getting up from your spot, you quickly slip Regulus’ portrait into your pocket and make way to grab your wand. You promised Harry that you would meet up with him earlier in order to discuss something. 

Harry’s words had been vague, but the look in his eyes when he asked you had you agreeing almost immediately. You weren’t sure if Harry was struggling with a life-threatening issue or if it involved Draco’s erratic behavior, but you were curious nonetheless. 

The questions flooding your head go flying out of the window when Harry hits you with a statement that has you floored from shock. 

“I think I have feelings for Ginny.” 

You feel your eyebrows drag together in bafflement, mouth creasing down into a slight frown. Across from you, Harry seems beside himself, looking even more lost than he’d ever look in his entire school career.

Snapping out of your shock, you place your hands on Harry’s shoulders before giving him a hard shake, “When the hell did this happen?!”

The boy allows you to manhandle his body, glasses bouncing around with the movement. Perhaps if you shook him harder, the bouncing of his head would be enough to wake up his brain.

“I don’t know! It’s just that lately with the whole Dean situation, I’ve just been…well, you know.” Finally stopping your movements, you’re unable to help the laugh that escapes you. 

“You’ve been jealous then?” To his dismay, your teasing words are paired along with a shit-eating grin that has him reconsidering all of his life choices thus far. 

Shaking his head and readjusting his glasses, Harry releases a heavy sigh before going to say something again. Before he’s able to though, his eyes go wide as he reaches for your arm, attempting to tug it to the side in a hurry. 

You’re confused for a split second, but before you can question your friend, a heavy body goes slamming into your back, sending you stumbling forward. A yelp pushes past your lips and you see Regulus’ portrait go flying into the air, before tumbling to the ground and sliding a few feet away. 

Shit. You forgot that this jacket didn’t have a pocket zipper.

Swinging your head around in irritation, you’re met with a shocked Cormac McLaggen standing behind you. The imbecile had been too distracted with fixing his sweater, which was still clutched in his hands, to notice that he was rapidly stalking towards your unknowing figure. 

“Woah, sorry, my bad.” You feel your eye twitch at the apology and you barely grunt out a response before he’s stepping around you and making his way further down the hall. 

Harry goes to put a hand on your shoulder to steady you, but becomes distracted by the item on the ground, making his way over to it before you can stop him. 

“No, wait, Harry, I got it!” As you rush forward, you only make it in time to see Harry flip the frame over, his body going rigid at the sight of an unimpressed Regulus. Your hand only pauses in the air for a split second before it’s snatching the item away from Harry’s hands at the speed of light. 

The mantra of curse words that go flying through your head would be enough to send McGonagall flying off the handle.

Clutching the frame to your chest, you hold your breath as Harry continues to stare at his empty hands, eyes alight with confusion. 

Slowly turning towards you, his voice is surprisingly even for the amount of shock you could see in his face, “Why do you have a picture of Regulus Black in your pocket?” 

Gripping the frame tightly in your hands, your words come out breathless as an intense wave of unease washes over you, “How do you know it’s him?” 

Harry sighs harshly, pinching his thumb and middle finger on the bridge of his nose as he answers, “This summer, Dumbledore took me from the Dursleys to go find Slughorn at his home. When I was looking around the place, I saw old photos of him and a quidditch team. He pointed out Regulus to me.” 

Regulus’ voice echoes in your mind link at the boy’s words, ‘Slughorn has a photo of me in his home?’

Stepping back in confusion, you almost want to look at Regulus to see what expression he was donning at the revelation. 

Before the conversation can continue, a bright voice erupts from behind you, “There you both are! It’s nearly time for the meeting to begin.” 

You spin on your heel and see a smiling Hermione making her way towards you, hands tucked in her brown dress jacket. Returning her smile, you quickly slip away the portrait before she can see it, trying your best to hide how shaken up you were. 

You trusted Harry, of course. But you weren’t sure how the added information of Regulus’ existence would bode with the burden-overloaded boy. As you begin to make your way down the hall with your friends, only partially engaged with Hermione’s ramble, you see Harry shoot you a pointed look. 

Clearly, the conversation was far from over.  

The Slug Club meeting seemed less daunting now that your secret had been unearthed and, quite literally, tossed into the air. As you sit eating your dessert, vaguely aware of the way Marcus Belby was scraping his spoon furiously against his glass, you look around to survey the table. 

It was quite the random bunch, and you were surprised to see that Draco wasn’t in attendance seeing as Potions was his pride and joy. Although, you aren’t upset that it was Blaise Zabini sitting across from you instead, quite enjoying the boy’s humor despite who he chooses to associate with. Merlin knows Draco’s sardonic demeanor was overwhelming enough, you guessed it was only fair that there was Blaise to balance it all out. 

Continuing to look around the table, you feel yourself do a double take before narrowing your eyes. 

Wait–is that McLaggen? Why the hell was he here?

“So, Y/N, I hear quite the praises about you. Yes. Yes, Professor Babbling and Professor Flitwick are chuffed to have you in their classes. Is there a particular area of study you are interested in?” Slughorn’s words have you snapping your gaze away from the source of your stress, eyes growing imperceptibly wider at the attention. 

Clearing your throat, you shoot a quick glance at your friends before smiling lightly at the older man, “Oh, well I’m quite interested in runes and I’m also partial to researching ancient charms. I spent most of my summer reading old tomes and heirloom books.” About the Dark Arts, not that you would say it aloud. 

Slughorn nods quickly, pleased by your words. Observing the other occupants at the table, you see Blaise meet your gaze with intrigued eyes, while Neville shoots you a warm smile. You supposed it was better than them looking at you like you grew a third head, and you suspected that Blaise somehow could read between the lines and knew exactly what type of research you were doing.

“Why, that sounds like quite the interest! I happen to know a few researchers in Norway and Scotland who are versed in archaic charms. I’ll be sure to reach out to them, perhaps you will be able to meet them at the Christmas party.” Slughorn’s words send a beat of shock through your spine and you find yourself beaming at the man, not expecting such an opportune offer. 

As soon as you nod at his words, the man turns towards Hermione, asking her about her parents and what they do for a living. You try to ignore the awkward silence that spears through the atmosphere once Slughorn realizes he knows very little about the muggle world, choosing to instead send glares at McLaggen when you notice how much your back hurts. 

You had heard he was trying out for a position in Quidditch this year, so maybe you could ask Ron to barrel dive into him as payback. 

The meeting seems to wrap up in the blink of an eye, and you’re soon trailing through the dark corridors behind the rest of the club members. Hermione quickly parts from your side and says she needs to go check out a book before curfew, but you’re less concerned about that and more concerned about Harry’s noticeable absence. 

He was probably still with Slughorn, no doubt already enacting his plan to get information. You only hoped that Dumbledore would leave the man alone soon, or at least until the Christmas party. Opportunist you may be, but the biting nature of the real world demands that you never turn away from such a golden ticket. 

You are dragged away from your thoughts as you feel someone fall into pace with you, looking up to meet a familiar set of eyes. 

“Zabini, what can I do for you?” 

The boy’s lips twitch at your forthright words, hands tucking away into his pant pockets, “Heirloom books. I wasn’t aware you had such…proclivities.” 

Nodding your head, you manage a small smirk at the Italian, “It’s been a strange summer.” 

“It would seem so.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence and you see a few people begin to break away, leaving for their respective destinations. As you reach the grand staircase, Blaise steps away from you, turning his head to give you one last assessing glance. 

You take the initiative to wave at him, still surprised by his cordiality, “Later, Zabini.” 

“It’s been fun. See you around, L/N.” With a small smile, he nods before strutting down the stairs.

As you continue through the darkness you reach into your pocket and pull out Regulus’ frame. You aren’t able to make out his expression, but his presence is comforting nonetheless. 

‘I think I just made a new friend, Reg.’ At least, you hoped you had. 

‘Just be careful.’ 

‘I will be. But I’m sorry about earlier, I should have pinned my pocket or something. Now Harry knows.’ 

‘It was bound to happen eventually.’ 

Huffing through your nose, you set your mouth into a firm line, ‘He won’t tell anyone, promise.’ 

‘I trust you. I know you’re good at picking friends, little bird.’ 

You send a brief pulse of amusement through the mind link, making no comment about the obvious self-praise in his words. 

The next day would be an interesting one, and you were already planning out what to say to Harry, but you weren’t sure how he’d feel about you keeping such a big secret for so long. 

It was truly unfortunate that you couldn’t stay buried in your bed forever. 

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txoru @surelysherly @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel @clockworkherondale @peachyaeger @wilmasvensson @thegayhoenextdoor @l--absinthe @ok-boke

[weclassybouquetfun]

AFC Richmond check-in.

-A few birthdays - Jeremy,Hannah, Juno and Stephen.

-Some work: Jeremy Swift can be seen in the Disney Channel movie DESCENDANTS: THE RISE OF RED as Principal Merlin

Brett Goldstein will have a film playing the Toronto Film Festival. Directed by Goldstein's SOULMATES co-creator William Bridges and written by Goldstein and Bridges, ALL OF YOU borrows from their SOULMATES concept and stars Imogen Poots, Steven Cree and Zawe Ashton.

Have to get used to a clean-shaven Brett.

Hush your butts - more AFC Richmond blatherings under the cut.

Kola Bokinni will be on the celebrity edition of RACE ACROSS THE WORLD.

Moe Hashim was at San Diego's Comic Con in support of the Peacock/Amazon Prime Videos series THOSE ABOUT TO DIE (which I love. Blew past the entire series nearly in one go.)

Kwame the Lionkiller.

A nice respite from his basketball feud with Toheeb Jimoh. I wonder how well the both of them would fare against Jason on the court.

Toheeb, who has been off doing a play reunited with Hannah and Koala at F1

Saran Niles will actually be in a F1 film with Brad Pitt.

Nick Mohammed was recently seen in the Steven Moffatt dramedy (entertaining, but a tad ham-fisted) DOUGLAS IS CANCELLED.

Phil Dunster was on Chris Evans' show promoting his upcoming performance in OKLAHOMA.

Little Gus Turner won an award for his role on TED LASSO.

Hannah and Juno both celebrated their Emmy nods. Hannah for her voiceover work on KRAPOPOLIS (her Christmas special was also nominated) and Juno for her role in FARGO.

Maximilian Osinski got some love from Screenrant.

Billy Harris and Charlie Hiscock memories from their July IG dump.

David Elsendoorn just because.

James Lance looking cool and living life at the Newport Folk Festival.

[pyro-les]

To save a life - Rio Vidal X goddess of life reader

880 words - warnings: none

Based of this request

taglist: @thecavalrywife @hannah-0730 @believe-in-magic13 @jenniferjareauwife @wandasreallover @thesharkwhalewhoohooooo @acutenobody

Yin and yang, light and dark, life and death; they had many names but all of them lead to the same two people. Since the dawn of time they have had the two most important jobs, they brought life and death, maintaining the circle of life. They brought the beginning and end respectively, so similar yet so different, but as people have always said, opposites attract.

They understood each others jobs, respected their decisions and knew that the other would always be right in when they said it was someone's time. However there was one time they disagreed, both stood at the edge of a lake, watching from afar the cries of pain both emotional and physical of the witch known so famously as the witch killer. And that is why they recognised her, Rio and Y/N had been there everytime she took life, being drawn there as a part of their jobs.

But for once she was pleading for a life to be saved instead of taking one. The witch called out to anyone listening not to take him, that he hadn't even got a chance to live yet, it couldn't be his time already. And so they stood there, life and death both of their powers subconsciously fighting for control of the child. They had no choice in the matter, not usually anyway, the fates were not chosen by them, it was just nature. They could lend a hand in the process of their respective powers but ultimately it was not their choice and yet as she stood there watching the grieving mother Rio felt guilt.

"Please, don't take him. Please!" She continues to scream. Rio and Y/N started to walk closer, they wanted to help, they really did.

Looking up with tears still streaming down her face Agatha watched the duo walk closer. She hadn't seen them before but as they grew closer they became more clear and she started to realise who they were, she had heard legends of them. She didn't say much more, her eyes pleading enough, she just whispered a final weak "please".

With a breath Y/N finally spoke up "All I can offer is time.". Agatha looked at her with a small smile relief written all over her face while Rio looked at her with confusion and worry.

"Sweetheart, you know you're not allowed to. We can't break the rules." Rio spoke in a hushed tone, she seemed almost upset to say so.

At this Agatha started to worry again, she wasn't supposed to hear that but she did. "No, no, please! I'm begging please, let him live."

"She's been through enough." Y/N said to Rio, her voice was filled with pity. "It's the least we can do, the only thing we can do."

Rio sighed, she didn't want to break the rules, she didn't know what would happen if they did. But if her lover was going to break the rules than so would she, she would try and hold off her power for along as she could. She had to admit she didn't want to have to take the child, she was saving everyone pain this way, or atleast holding it off for awhile.

"Fine, I'll try to delay it as long as I can, but it won't be forever." She may have seemed disgruntled but she was glad she was helping, just apprehensive.

Y/N looked at her with a smile, she knew Rio would do it for her, just this once. "Thank you." She spoke quietly, mirroring Agathas much more loud, repetitive one.

They stayed there awhile longer, waiting for the child to be born, they had helped a bit already but they couldn't do much until they were here. They didn't have to wait long though, soon enough they watched as the witch held her child close, she was so so glad he was there, she couldn't let him go.

Y/N walked the few steps closer to the witch, an unspoken question in her eye as she slowly puts her hand out as Agatha nods gently. She slowly brings her hand to the baby's chest, closing her eyes as her hand begins to glow, a subtle pink hue bleeding into the child, the very essence of life seeping into his soul. She could feel his heart beat grow more and more steady, a stark contrast from the dull, slow pulse it had been mere moments ago. The small amount of her power left inside of him would protect him for a few years atleast, she could only do this once, she had already bent the rules enough. So she gave him as much as he could handle, as much time as she could.

She pulled her hand away after a few minutes knowing any more power would be too much for his tiny body. Y/N opened her eyes slowly and looked up to the witch, she looked much more calm now, relieved. "Thank you." She spoke gratefully, no amount of words could truly convey how grateful she was but they understood anyway.

Their job here was done, they had saved a life, one that was never supposed to exist in the first place. They had broken the rules but it was worth it.

[the-winter-spider]

But Daddy I Love Him Pt: 4 | B.Barnes

Word Count: 3kish

Warnings: physical abuse

A/N: I wanna say this will follow bucky & Steves story line in the MCU but im not going to write eveeeerrything that happens, you’ll just have to see what i mean!

Ugh hopefully they can get married before the war 🙄😇

Im going to be adding the year to the chapters because were about to do a back and forth with time jumps soon!

Masterlist

—

May 1943

You could feel their eyes on you, burning into your back as you turned the apple over in your hand, examining it. The hushed whispers reached your ears, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up at the mention of Bucky’s name. You glanced at the ring on your left hand, a small smile tugging at your lips before you turned slightly, catching their eyes. Fake smiles appeared on both of their faces as they made their way toward you.

“Y/N! Hi! We missed you at brunch!” Sarah’s high-pitched voice rang out, dripping with false cheer.

“Yeah, I wasn’t hungry,” you replied, keeping your tone neutral as you placed the apple into your basket.

“Mm,” Hannah hummed, exchanging a quick look with Sarah. “Well, that’s not quite what we heard.”

You tilted your head slightly, resting your left hand on the basket to give them a full view of the ring. “And what did you hear?”

Their eyes zeroed in on the ring, and they gasped. “Oh my gosh! I heard about Tom, but I didn’t think it was true after what Dot said!” Sarah squeaked out.

“Oh, thank God. Dot’s going to be so happy James is still on the market,” Hannah added, a hint of relief in her voice.

Your eyes met Bucky’s across the store. He gave you a questioning look, silently asking if you were okay. You gave him a pleading look, desperate for an escape from this conversation.

“This isn’t from Tom,” you said flatly.

Their eyebrows knitted together in confusion before realisation dawned on their faces as Bucky approached. His arm slipped around your waist, pulling you close before he planted a kiss on your cheek. “Hello, ladies,” he greeted, his voice smooth and calm.

The shock on their faces was almost comical. Sarah’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, while Hannah looked like she was trying to process what was happening.

“So… you’re the one who put that ring on Y/N’s finger?” Sarah finally managed, her voice a mix of surprise and envy.

Bucky smiled, his gaze never leaving yours. “Sure am. And it’s going to stay there.” He glanced back at the women, his tone polite but firm. “Anything else you were wondering about?”

They exchanged awkward glances, clearly thrown off by Bucky’s presence. “No, we just… didn’t know,” Hannah stammered.

“Well, now you do,” you said, leaning into Bucky’s embrace. “If you’ll excuse us, we’ve got some shopping to finish.”

You were almost out of earshot when you heard Sarah mutter, “What a mess.” Your body tensed at the words, but before you could react, Bucky’s voice was in your ear, low and soothing. “Not worth it, darlin’,” he mumbled, his hand tightening gently on your waist, guiding you further away from the encounter.

As you walked together, Bucky leaned down, his breath warm against your ear. “You okay, doll?”

You nodded, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Better now….thanks for rescuing me.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you as he pressed a tender kiss to your temple. “Always, sweetheart. Always.”

You continued through the store in comfortable silence, the tension from earlier slowly melting away. Bucky kept close, his presence grounding you. Every now and then, his thumb would brush against your side, a small gesture that reminded you just how much he cared.

As you reached the checkout line, Bucky looked down at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You know, they’re just jealous,” he said, his voice casual but with an edge of protectiveness. “People like them don’t understand what we have.”

You glanced up at him, feeling a surge of warmth in your chest. “I don’t care what they think. I just… I just want us to be happy.”

Bucky’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “We are happy, doll. And nothing they say or think is gonna change that.”

You paid for your groceries, and as you walked out of the store, you felt lighter, more at ease. Bucky’s arm slipped around your shoulders, pulling you closer as you stepped into the sunlight. The world outside felt brighter, and with Bucky by your side, the whispers and judgments from others seemed insignificant.

“Let’s head home,” Bucky said, his tone gentle. “I’ll make us lunch before work, and we can forget about the rest of the world for a while.”

You smiled, leaning into him as you walked together. “That sounds perfect.”

As long as you had Bucky, the rest didn’t matter.

—

Bucky and Steve both had jobs. Bucky after he finished his training was supposed to not work in order to soak up every minute before he got deployed but that of course changed after he asked you to marry him, because he now he wanted to take of you and make sure you had everything your heart desired so he was working odd jobs. You told him he didn’t have to, you had some money saved up so you would be fine but he told you he insisted. You understood that, you really did, but were you ever bored, when Bucky was away training and Stevie was out working you were never this bored waiting on them. But things are different now. Before, you’d spend your days shopping, lounging by the pool, tinkering with things in your room, or hanging out with friends—or people you thought were your friends.

Now, all of that was off the table. Not that you’d trade being engaged to Bucky for anything; that meant everything to you. But the boredom of waiting for one of them to come home? That was going to be the death of you.

You had already cleaned the place twice over, and the items you brought back from your trip home with Steve were neatly put away. Now, you were just sitting on the couch, leg bouncing restlessly as you stared at the clock, willing it to move faster. Spoiler alert: it didn’t.

“Oh, screw this,” you muttered to no one in particular after five whole minutes of waiting. Grabbing your purse, you marched to the door, your hand hovering over the handle when you heard footsteps just outside. You froze. Neither of the boys were supposed to be back for at least another hour.

Three loud knocks echoed through the door. You didn’t move. A moment later, the knocks came again, harder this time, followed by a voice that made your blood run cold. “I know you’re in there, Y/N!”

You knew who it was from the first knock, but hearing his voice confirmed it. Your father. Your hands shook as you backed away from the door and grabbed the telephone. You dialled the number Bucky had given you for emergencies, praying it would connect quickly.

“Hello!” a voice boomed through the receiver.

“H-hi, um… is Bucky there?” you stammered.

“He’s busy, working. Who’s this?”

“His fiancée.”

There was a brief pause before the voice softened slightly. “Bucky’s fiancée, huh? You want me to give him a message?”

“Can you tell him my father is here?”

You could hear the confusion on the other end. “Are you in trouble, miss?”

Your breath hitched as you saw the door handle jiggle. He was trying to pick the lock. “Just tell him, please,” you whispered, before hanging up.

The door clicked open, and you took a deep breath, straightening your dress and fixing your composure. A glance at the ring on your finger gave you a sudden surge of confidence. You could do this. You had to.

The door creaked as it swung open, revealing your father in all his imposing glory. You tilted your head, meeting his gaze with a steely look of your own. “Breaking and entering? Not a good look for a Stark.”

He smirked, his eyes narrowing as he stepped inside. “I see Bucky’s already rubbing off on you,” he said, his tone dripping with disdain. “But let’s not pretend this is a surprise, Y/N. You knew I’d come looking for you.” You could see his eyes wandering around the apartment, judging with pure disgust.

You crossed your arms, standing your ground. “What do you want?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” His smile faded, replaced by a cold, calculating expression. “You’re coming home.”

“I am home,” you shot back, voice steady despite the fear clawing at your insides.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “This little rebellion of yours ends now. You think marrying some low-life, poor labourer, wannabe solider is going to protect you from me?”

Anger surged through you, rising from your toes to your chest, until it boiled over. You lifted your right hand, making a fist before extending your pointer finger at your father. “You don’t talk about him like that! He’s anything but…he’s a wonderful man… I love him!”

Your father let out a harsh, sinister laugh as he loosened the tie around his neck. “You don’t know the first thing about love. They always told me having a daughter would be a handful. I told them no, not my daughter. She’s a Stark—she knows better than to act up.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You’re making me look like a fool!” His voice boomed, echoing through the room as his hand shot out, gripping your right forearm painfully tight. He yanked you toward the door. “I’ve had enough of this foolery.”

“Stop! Y-you’re hurting me!” you cried, trying to plant your feet, but he only tightened his grip, dragging you forward.

“Good,” he hissed.

Desperation flooded you as you clawed at his hand with your left, digging your nails into his skin. His head snapped back to you, eyes blazing. “Stop it, Y/N! I swear to—” His voice halted abruptly as his eyes landed on your engagement ring. His grip shifted to your left wrist, squeezing it hard as he yanked your hand up to inspect the ring. “What the hell is this?”

“I’m engaged,” you spat back.

“To who?”

“Bucky,” you said, voice trembling.

His nostrils flared, rage twisting his features. He reached to rip the ring off your finger, and panic shot through you. “No! Stop!” Fear and adrenaline surged as you did the only thing you could think of—you bit his hand, hard, drawing blood. He roared in pain and shoved you away with force. You stumbled backward, crashing into the entry table, sending everything on it tumbling to the floor.

“FUCK!” he seethed, holding his bleeding hand. “You stupid, stupid girl.”

“P-people know,” you stuttered, trying to hold back tears as you scrambled to your feet, your body trembling from the shock.

That caught his attention. His eyes narrowed, panic briefly flickering across his face. If people knew, word would spread fast, especially in New York. His control over you would slip away.

“Who knows?” he demanded.

“Sarah and Hannah Jones,” you managed to say through the tears. The thing about the Jones’s was that they were gossipers.

“Marty’s daughters?” he asked, dread creeping into his voice.

You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks. He stared at you for a long, cold moment before spitting out, “You’re dead to me.” With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The force of it knocked pictures off the walls, sending them crashing to the floor.

You collapsed onto the ground, sobbing, your body shaking uncontrollably. Your arm and wrist throbbed with pain, already bruising from his grip. The ache in your lower back from being shoved into the table only added to the agony. You were left alone, surrounded by shattered memories and broken pieces of your life.

The good memories of your father had officially been tainted. The stained glass pedestal you once placed him on had already begun to crack, but this—this shattered it entirely. The man who had once been your hero, the father you had looked up to, was gone. In his place stood a stranger, someone who saw you as a possession to control, not as a daughter to love.

You tried to steady your breath, but the betrayal, the pain, it was all too much. The tears came harder, your sobs echoing in the empty room. The weight of it all was crushing, suffocating, as you realised just how far he was willing to go to maintain his grip on you.

Suddenly, the door burst open again, and Bucky rushed in, his eyes wild with worry. He dropped to his knees beside you, gathering you into his arms. “Sweetheart, what happened? Are you okay?” His voice was laced with panic as he looked you over, taking in the bruises already forming on your skin.

Relief washed over you at the sound of his voice, but when you tried to speak, the words caught in your throat, replaced by another sob.

Bucky’s expression shifted from worry to fury as he took in the scene—you shaking on the floor, the shattered items on the floor, and the lingering fear in your eyes. He crouched closer, his touch infinitely gentle as he cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear.

“Doll, what happened?” His voice trembled with barely restrained anger. His eyes searched yours for some sign that you were okay, though he knew you weren’t. He reached for your shaking hands, taking both of them in his, and brought them to his lips, leaving soft kisses over your knuckles.

You tried to speak again, but the fear and pain were overwhelming. Instead, you slowly lifted your bruised wrist, showing him the damage. His gaze darkened, and his jaw clenched as he carefully cradled your hand.

“He did this to you?” His voice was low, dangerous.

You nodded, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. “He… he came here, Bucky. He tried to… I didn’t know what to do…”

Bucky’s grip tightened, but his touch remained gentle as he pulled you into his arms. His embrace was firm, protective, as if shielding you from the world. “You’re safe now,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your hair. “I’m here, and I won’t let him hurt you…. I should have been here, I’m so sorry i wasn’t here”

You buried your face in his chest, letting the warmth of his embrace soothe you. The tremors running through your body slowly began to subside, though the pain and fear still lingered. For a moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the steady rhythm of Bucky’s heartbeat and the safety of his arms.

After a long moment, he pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “We need to make sure he never comes near you again,” he said, his voice steely with determination. “I’ll talk to Steve, and we’ll figure something out”

“I need to talk to H-Howie,” you whispered, your lip trembling.

Bucky nodded, his thumb gently wiping away your tears. “Whatever you want, darlin’.”

Before you could say more, Steve’s voice echoed from the doorway. “Buck, what did I tell you about shutting the—what happened?!”

His voice was laced with panic as he took in the scene: shattered picture frames, a broken vase, the overturned telephone, and your purse and keys scattered across the floor. But what concerned him most was the sight of you, trembling in Bucky’s arms.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Steve. Embarrassment and shame flooded your chest, suffocating you. The last couple years you’ve been having issues with your Father, you’ve been able to keep the boys out of it, but twice in a week was too much and now it felt like your problems were a burden, weighing down on Bucky and Steve when they already had so much to deal with.

“Bucky?” you asked quietly, ignoring Steve’s worried gaze.

“Yes, doll?”

“I-I think I want to lie down for a bit, is that o-okay?”

Bucky’s hands gently cradled your face, his eyes soft and full of understanding. “That’s more than okay.” He shot a look at Steve that said, I’ll tell you later, then stood up, helping you to your feet.

Steve’s eyes followed your every move, his jaw tightening when he saw the bruises darkening on your arm. Steve had always hated bullies, and seeing you like this made his blood boil.

Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close as he guided you toward the bedroom. His presence was comforting, a steady anchor in the storm of emotions swirling inside you. You leaned into him, grateful for his unwavering support.

As you reached the bedroom, Bucky helped you sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ll be right here, sweetheart,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Get some rest. We’ll figure everything out.”

You nodded, exhausted both physically and emotionally. Bucky’s reassuring words were like a balm to your soul, and as you lay down, the tension in your body began to ease.

He pulled the blanket over you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before stepping back. “I’ll be right back,” he promised.

Before he could leave, you reached out, grabbing his hand. “Stay… please,” you whispered.

Bucky’s eyes softened even more. “Of course, doll.” He kicked off his shoes and lay down beside you, pulling you into his arms. You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, letting it lull you into a sense of safety.

As you began to drift off, you could hear Steve’s low voice outside the room, talking to someone on the phone. You knew he was taking action, ensuring your father wouldn’t come near you again. For now, though, you focused on Bucky’s warmth, letting it chase away the lingering shadows of fear.

In his arms, you finally allowed yourself to breathe.

[rainbowssi]

moment of silence

girls generation 9th member au

harry defends hannah and makes an statement

masterlist 💎 requests are open feedback is always important to me!

Hannah watched Harry’s concert from the backstage area as if it was the first time.

It didn’t matter how many concerts she attended, she’d always be shocked at how Harry had the talent to make it different, not two were the same. 

Fortunately, their schedule matched while she was in London for a quick photoshoot for LV and he was there with his tour. Hannah felt so happy she would be able to, at least, watch him doing his favorite thing ever in the middle of the whole chaos of their agendas. 

From where she was standing, she could have a perfect view from his left side profile that she loved so much and the right side of the stadium, which, as usual, was sold out. Drinking a good sip of her beer, Hannah wasn’t worrying about anything but enjoying that moment. 

Every time during a break, Harry would look over at her, wiking or throwing kisses, just to make sure she was being noticed and to reassure her that her presence mattered to him, and Hannah felt like falling for him even more.

By that time, the arena was alive with energy, the crowd’s roar echoing off the walls. Lights flashed in rhythm with the music, and Harry stood in the center stage, pouring his heart into the final chorus of “Golden", Hannah's favorite song. 

But Harry's body language suddenly changed and he tensed out suddenly, making Hannah frown as she drank a bit more of her beer, already warm. 

As Hannah scanned the audience, even stepping out of the backstage area a bit, making some fans scream for her, a board caught her eyes, probably the same that made Harry mad, with large, bold letters painted in black, the fan screaming "Hannah is a slut" with all her lungs. 

She knew some fans didn't like her. In fact, she'd even say they hated her. But it's not like Hannah wasn't used to people having mixed feelings about her. Like, come on, she was a k-pop idol.

But, as for Harry, the words hit him like a punch to the gut. It was his first ever time watching all the threats and misunderstood concepts of his fans in respect of his girlfriend coming to life. 

For a moment, everything else - the music, the crowd, the lights - faded into a blur, and his smile faltered. 

In the back of his head, even with the in-ear monitors on, he could listen to Hannah's voice telling him that it was okay, to let that go, but his voice trembled slightly as he finished the song, trying to push through the surge of anger bubbling beneath the surface.

As the final note rang out, the arena erupted in cheers, but Harry’s eyes remained locked on the sign. He took a deep breath, stepping away from the mic stand.

Just like Hannah did, the band noticed the shift in his demeanor, the subtle tension in his movements. The audience, sensing something was off, began to quiet.

"What is happening?" Hannah heard Harry's management team murmuring. "Why is he stopping?" 

"Is he okay?" someone else, the stylist, asked. 

"There's a fan with a board calling me a slut." Hannah said and the whole team went silent. "He can't stop the concert because of that." 

"Harry," the sound director said in the mic connected directly to Harry's monitors. "let's move on. We're almost done." 

However, Harry walked back to the center of the stage, his voice calm but firm. 

"Can we talk for a moment?" he asked the fans, taking his in-ear monitors off, making the whole team sigh. 

The crowd hushed, anticipation thick in the air. Fans near the front exchanged confused glances as this wasn’t part of the show. Hannah, on the other hand, placed a hand on her chest, trying to calm herself. 

Harry pointed to the section where he’d seen the sign. 

"You," he said, his voice steady but intense. "with the sign.".

There was a ripple of murmurs as the sign-holder hesitated, as if they couldn’t believe they were finally being noticed. The security approached, ready to intervene, but Harry raised a hand, stopping them. 

“No, let them stay.”, he told them. 

Hannah felt her heart in her throat. She wanted to tell him it was okay, that it was just some random person seeking attention. Yet, deep down, she knew it ran deeper than that - there were layers of racism and prejudice beneath the surface. 

Harry scanned the crowd, his voice carrying a quiet, intense fury that commanded attention. He couldn’t comprehend the hatred some fans had for Hannah. She had done nothing but bring him happiness and love. Why would they target someone so important to him? To Harry, being a true fan didn’t include tearing down the person he loved.

“Hannah is someone I love,” he began, his voice strong and clear. “She is so talented, kind, and one of the strongest people I know. She doesn’t deserve to be talked about like that. No one does.” Harry continued, his eyes scanning the audience. “Words matter. The things we say, the things we write. They have power. Saying something like this to someone is hurtful. It’s damaging.”

A wave of cheers erupted, but Harry raised his hand, signaling for silence. For what Hannah could tell, some people were even crying, the raw honesty in his voice struck a chord. 

“This isn’t just about Hannah. It’s about all of us. We’ve created a world where tearing people down is too easy. Where judgment is louder than kindness. That’s not the world I want to live in. That’s not the world I want my fans to be part of.” he continued. 

Harry’s gaze returned to the sign-holder, as did Hannah’s. 

“I’m not here to shame you. I’m here to ask you to be better. We all can be. Think about the kind of energy you’re putting out into the world.” he told the fan. The sign slowly lowered, disappearing into the crowd. Security moved to escort the person out, but Harry shook his head. “Let them stay. Maybe they’ll learn something tonight.”

The fact that he could still be kind after all that, made Hannah’s heart beat even faster - if that was any possible. She didn’t deserve someone like him, he was too precious for all of that. 

The fact that he could still show kindness after everything made Hannah’s heart race even faster - if that was even possible. She felt a pang of disbelief; she didn’t deserve someone like him. He was too precious for this world.

The crowd erupted in cheers, the energy shifting, becoming something brighter, stronger. Fans near the front started chanting things like “we love Hannah”, “Hannah is the best”, making Harry smile while tears glistened in his eyes. 

“Thank you.” he said. 

The band took the cue and started the next song while Harry walked over Hannah’s direction, making her notice the tears she didn't even know she had cried. He opened his arms, giving her a quick yet loving hug, kissing her cheek and wiping her tears. 

“It’s okay.” he whispered to her. “I love you.” he reassured her. 

“I love you way more.” she answered in the same tone. 

“That’s impossible.” he answered before winking at her and going back to his spot.