#i love me some hurt/comfort so we're going there hard YES

[go-hux-yourself]

Haruspex

I’m back at it with my bullshit haha :D This came about as an idea from this post about the hero showing up on the villain’s doorstep, and I kind of went with it :D

Also on my ao3 here :) My masterlist archive of bullshit i write can be found linked at the top of the blog or here.

--

His door chimed.

No one ever came to his personal quarters on this ship; or at least, not without being expected.

Hux was not expected. But it wasn’t nearly as big a shock as the state of the man himself.

“I didn’t know where else to go…” Hux muttered as he shouldered his way into Ren’s personal quarters without pretense despite the hour. Ren didn’t even try to stop him, so startled by this uncharacteristic aura of--

Well, confidence certainly wasn’t the word he was looking for. Not for the state of mind Hux appeared to be in. There were heavy bags under the general’s eyes, his uniform was rumpled, hair loose about his head, and a sort of hunted gleam shone in his eyes where there was usually cool disdain. He looked like a man possessed, and the desperation was rolling off him in waves.

“Something is-- Someone is messing with my head. With their damned force nonsense, or something to that end. I need you to make it stop.”

Ren frowned, at both the assumption, and the fact that Hux was actually asking him for help. The fact he assumed it was something force-related-- not the byproduct of too much caf and not enough sleep- and wasn’t immediately accusing Ren of being the perpetrator, was also interesting. “What makes you think someone is using the force against you?”

“It’s the logical conclusion,” Hux brushed off quickly, green eyes jumping about the room as if trying to search out some relief locked inside the durasteel walls. His gaze settled on Ren. His fingers twitched at his sides, gloveless. His hands looked cold. “Now please, just-- Work your magic or whatever it is you do, and make it stop.”

Ren frowned again. Hux never said please to him. He had to pause and center himself for a moment, and make sure this wasn’t some dream, or that he hadn’t gone too deeply into meditation and was in some weird force-hallucination that included his co-commander.

Ren didn’t feel any disturbance in the force, either around them, or from Hux himself. And Hux looked like he’d been on the tail end of extended stim use. Either that, or he was truly unhinged by some rogue variable that required Ren’s intervention. “When was the last time you slept, General?”

Hux gave him what surely couldn’t be a hurt look, but then, the man did look exhausted, and was clearly distressed if he’d come knocking on his rival’s door for help.

“I’m not crazy,” Hux stated softly with deadly calm, stopping his idle fidgeting and observances of the other man’s quarters.

“I didn’t say you were,” Ren stated, though the implication was there.

Hux was bleeding anxiety, the usually-composed man clearly frayed at the ends. That Hux sought out Ren’s help spoke to a many magnitude of things; mainly that he was more concerned with this potential ‘thing’ tormenting him than appearing weak to the man that could usurp his position.

Such a thought was a novelty Ren wanted to believe in. That Hux was exposing a potential vulnerability to Ren for exploitation-- and trusting that he wouldn’t do so in his plea for help- struck something inside the other man. That he considered Ren worth trusting at all, let alone with what was most certainly delicate information, was throwing Ren through all kinds of loops.

No one confided secrets to the knight. No one shared weakness with a literal mind-reader. If anything, people tried to throw up mental barriers against him, if they had the will for one.

Hux was one of those. But right now, he wanted the exact opposite, and it was a strange kind of power-rush for Ren, one he-- oddly enough- didn’t want to exploit. This was interesting enough on its own to merit helping the other man out.

Ren indicated his spartan couch, and Hux followed the gesture with tired eyes. “Sit down,” Ren instructed. “And tell me what I’m looking for.”

“I don’t know,” Hux told him with frustration, but he did take a seat, clasping his pale hands in his lap. His posture was straight, but forced. He was so damn exhausted it was a struggle to even keep what little composure he had left. “If I knew what was causing it, I’d have told you already.”

Hux tried to glower up at him as Ren stood before him, but the look only came off as pitiful. Ren considered his options, and decided that he would know what he was looking for if and when he encountered it within Hux’s mind. The general didn’t necessarily need to know he was going in completely blind. “What is it you’re experiencing?” Hux’s lips pursed into a thin line, reluctant. “Regardless of what you might assume about me, I’m not privy to your every waking thought, General.”

“Flashbacks,” Hux admitted, meeting Ren’s eyes defiantly with his own. “I’m seeing flashbacks.”

It sounded like he might need a trip down to medical with a psych-droid instead of a force-user, but Ren wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity to see inside the other man’s mind unhindered. The recent incursions on neutral-planets hadn’t strained the general, as far as Ren knew. And Hux hadn’t seen action on a battlefield in person since at least before Ren had come to the Finalizer. Whatever was causing him to lose sleep must be quite a thing indeed.

It wasn’t something he’d have trouble finding, anyways, as far as he was concerned. Whatever disturbing moments of galactic-warfare that was keeping Hux up at night, he knew he could wipe them from the general’s mind, or at least block them to the same end result.

“You must open your mind to me, if I’m to be successful.”

“Fine, yes. Consider it open. Just. Silence it, Ren.”

Hux’s choice of words almost brought a smile twitching to Ren’s lips. He was to be the silencer of these thoughts, just as the ship he piloted held the same name. He wondered if Hux had somehow strung those thoughts together and that’s how he’d ended up at Ren’s door specifically. It didn’t matter, he supposed, and he could probably find out from Hux’s own mind if he were curious enough.

Ren held out a hand, feeling with the force while Hux watched him and considered whether or not this was too great a risk to end his suffering; if Ren would somehow exploit this, meddle with his thoughts, warp his mind or do him even further harm under guise of assistance. Ren put down his hand and watched as Hux’s brow creased in response to the action. “This would be easier if you didn’t fight me, General.”

“I’m not fighting,” Hux affirmed stubbornly, frustrated and tired beyond belief and suddenly very fearful that this calculated risk was about to backfire and he’d get no relief. Ren didn’t need to be a mind-reader to know that. “Please,” Hux asked softly, the note in his voice plaintive, “I’m so kriffing exhausted.”

That was a word he’d heard from the general twice tonight, and it made him more determined to actually see this through to a good outcome. Ren raised his hand again, watching the other man. “It might be easier if you close your eyes.” Hux scoffed, but did exactly that as he sat there with his hands still folded over one another in his lap.

Hux’s impressive mental wall easily crumbled before Ren’s own focus, and it was shocking how quickly the general’s mind folded to his circumspection, leaving Ren with a very open picture indeed.

Hux was terrified. Or, some version of himself some twenty years back was. These weren’t the flashbacks he was looking for, nor did he expect to be immediately assaulted by them as he rifled through the general’s mind. Memories, Ren realized. Disjointed thoughts all with the same message of failure failure failure.

There were many of them. So many that he wondered how the general had been commanding the ship with such things blaring in his consciousness like an emergency klaxon. These were almost nightmares, but were once Hux’s reality, and the knight tried not to focus too hard on any single one lest he get pulled in and sidetracked.

Once Ren got past one, there was another, and then another bleeding into its place like a deck of flimsi cards, all in the background of Hux’s own consciousness that kept telling himself to ignore it-- that this was dead and done, that he wasn’t that boy anymore- and the pitiable self-assertion that he should be over this by now.

Hux’s incapability was literally haunting him. Torment long scarred-over was turned into fresh wounds again. It was a particularly cruel piece of work, one Ren wanted to remember for his own interrogation techniques, but it wasn’t impossible to find where the mental suggestion to revisit these old wounds had been hidden.

It was minor, as far as force-suggestions went, but very effective indeed. It wasn’t difficult for Ren to snuff out the suggestion, wondering who put it there in the first place, and the assault on Hux’s consciousness was gone like smoke wisps.

Hux was in a kind of dazed trance, exhausted and near-sleep, but trying to remain alert. The sudden lack of painful memories being thrust upon him was so relieving that Hux’s posture bodily relaxed. Ren watched him, feeling and seeing the relief there, and considered things about the other man he hadn’t thought of before.

This couldn’t be allowed. Whoever was responsible for planting the suggestion inside the general’s head was dangerous.

Such a subtle use of the force would be ineffective against him, but to force-nulls like Hux, it could bring the mightiest commanders into disarray if applied in the right places. And someone had known exactly where to attack Hux.

The fact that Ren had found anything at all inside his head made him justify keeping a close watch on the general, and it was barely a suggestion whispered into the other man’s mind before Hux tipped over into much-needed sleep.

--

Ch. 2 and others will be found on the ao3 post :)

--

kofi | ao3

[luveline]

For your kisses before dinner au, can I request a late night moment, not nsfw or anything just what their evenings are like? ty🧡

ty for ur request!! kisses before dinner ♡ pregnant!reader

You and Steve lie shoulder to shoulder in the dark. 

"You think they're sleeping?" you whisper. 

"I have no clue." 

You're both too terrified to move. Any noise at all risks waking up the girls. If you can avoid waking them up, there's a possibility that you and Steve might get some time alone. 

You have as many little ones as you do because you love them, everything about them, at all times of day. And sure, they exhaust you, but you wouldn't have had them if you couldn't handle it. If you couldn't manage the bad with the good.

You want to curl into a ball on top of him but the distension of your stomach makes it difficult. Baby bumps are made for homing and protection, they aren't super super fragile, but you've always been cautious and that isn't gonna change anytime soon. 

"I miss being able to lie on top of you," you confess. 

"You still could. Back to my chest," he offers. 

"Not the same." 

"If you loved me, you'd use me like a mattress topper." 

You fit together well when you're on top. Cheek to cheek, legs between his legs. Sometimes you hook a thigh up over one of his hips. It can't be comfortable for him and he's never complained, not once in all the years you've loved him. 

It's super Steve of him. He whines about all the wrong things. 

Case in point. "Are you gonna lie on me or am I dragging you?" 

"Can you? I'm too heavy." 

Steve scoffs. No matter what weight you are, pregnant or not, he insists that you're never 'too' anything. "Would you quit it?" 

"I don't want to lie on you like that. I miss being able to-" You shrug, tracing the barely illuminate line of his nose with loving eyes. "To cuddle like we're the same person." 

It's corny. Steve knows exactly what you mean. 

"We are the same person," he insists. He starts trying to turn your names into one, creating a hodgepodge of poorly strung syllables.

He has the unique ability to make you laugh at just about anything. He can get you giggling in the delivery room if he tries hard enough. 

You shift your arm where it's sandwiched so close to his and go searching for his outermost wrist, pulling it to your face for lazy kisses. His palm resting at your lips, you close your eyes and picture the face he's making. He's definitely turned his head to yours, giving you that "you're so crazy" expression he does, like he's startled you'd dote on him. 

"Wanna make out?" he asks. 

You're about to say yes when footsteps sound.

Steve eases up onto his elbow to kiss you sweetly, too quickly, before he takes the end of the blankets into his hand and pulls them over your heads. 

You know exactly who it is from the footsteps alone. Avery pushes open the door, and she sounds almost shy as she whispers, "Are you still awake?" 

"We're sleeping," Steve says back. You laugh as quietly as you're able to, tummy trembling under his hand with the motion. 

"I want to talk to you." 

That's not so funny. Steve moves the blankets back down. "About what, Avey-bear?" 

She's hard to make out in the dark, not with the light from the hallway at her back. You can see her hair, it's bed head frizz, and the ruffles of her nightie at her knees. 

"About anything." 

You snort. All your worry turns to amusement, and affection, and you make space between you and Steve immediately. You move too fast. 

"Be careful," Steve says to you softly, prompted by your little breathless sigh. Lately, your back has felt super sore, like somebody's taken to it with a meat tenderiser. 

"Come and sit with us," you tell Avery. 

She races around to your side and waits for you to pick her up. You would, of course, and you'd hug her to death as soon as she was in your arms, but you'd really hurt yourself somehow and you don't want to make it worse. 

"Come round to my side," Steve says. 

You smile at her unimpressed expression, "I can't move too much. Baby's kicking my spine." 

She gawps at you, tiny white teeth shining like pearls. "She's what?" 

It's important to note that you don't know the baby's gender. Avery says 'she' because her dad does. That, and it must make sense to her — Avery has felt the little kicking feet of two sisters before. It's sad, and silly, but for a split second you feel sorry that the only people who'd ever felt her kick were you and Steve. It had been one of the best (and then quickly one of the most agitating) feelings in the world. 

Avery, big sister extraordinaire, and biggest, bestest eldest daughter they ever made, climbs up onto the bed by herself and positions her face carefully over the hill of your baby bump. "You have to be nice," she whisper passionately, "you're hurting mom." 

You stroke her forehead. "Baby can't help it. She's growing." 

"You said 'she,'" Steve coos. 

"It's easier." You're not sure at all what the baby is. You have no premonitions. No inkling of one guess or another. 

"She," Steve says, "really can't help it Avery, but you're a good girl for trying to protect mom." 

"Thank you," you say, cupping her cheek. 

"You're welcome," she says. 

You're the kind of mom that some little kids can't abide — all you want, all the time, are hugs. You steal them at breakfast and lunch and dinner, in the car, in the garden, in the supermarket. You love to move in behind them and cuddle their unsuspecting shoulders. Lucky for you, they've all grown to return the same affection. Avery, amazingly careful of your stomach, crawls the rest of the way up the bed to the pillows and lays down curled toward you, pulling your arm to her chest for a hug. 

Steve moves onto his side and sidles up behind her. He moves his arm over your two bodies, his hand over your shoulder, his eyes glued to your face. 

"We've done this before," he murmurs. 

You and Steve and Avery and an unnamed baby. 

"Do you think your sisters are sleeping?" you ask. 

"Mm, Beth is snoring again," she complains. 

"Dove isn't this quiet when she's awake," Steve says. 

"Guess it's just you with us tonight, beautiful," you say, pulling the covers over Avery's shoulder. Swimming in bed sheets, she beams at you, really smiles, and her face seems like it's nearly too small to hold a happy that big. 

"What did you want to talk about?" you ask. 

"Everything." 

Steve closes his eyes and pushes his face into the back of her head. You wrap your arm over Avery to bracelet his arm with your fingers. If you're clinging too tight, he doesn't complain. 

[mazeinthemiroh]

bangchan boyfriend headcanons

genre: fluff

word count: 0.8k

warnings: none

requested?: yes

song rec: my universe - coldplay, bts

author's notes: in honour of chan day, here is some bangchan bf headcanons. i may or may not have cried whilst writing this. i just love him so much ;-; anyways, i really hope you enjoy this one! happy chan day <333

guys...

oh my gosh i can't breathe-

okay, okay

i don't think you understand how much this guy means to me. this guy. the most beautiful, gentle, gorgeous man in the whole world. this person who's very existence is why i am still here today. bangchan. bang christopher chan. chrissy boi

however has the privilege of dating this one should know that they are the luckiest person in the whole wide world

bangchan as a boyfriend? he puts his all into the relationship. being the leader of stray kids has taught him many things: patience, kindness, empathy, compromise, understanding. he is well equipped for any sort of human interaction, if we're being honest. he is also prone to be protective, taking a more caring role is natural for him. as a boyfriend, he will look out for you. make sure you stay out of harms way, protect you from the press, sasaengs, paparazzi, toxic fans, idols, anyone who hurts your feelings, your reputation, your image.

you are like the kids in the sense that you become chan's top priority.

speaking of the kids, you will have to get on well with them. the other members as so important to chan because they are essentially his family. so getting along with them is a must and non-negotiable, tbh

and they welcome you with open arms, anyway, seeing how happy you. make chan. you all end up being one big happy family, its lovely

but it's baffling, really. because at first, chan was a bit concerned that being in a relationship would be extremely difficult because of his tight schedule

and, much like i said with hongjoong, he's a quality time guy. he craves a one-on-one connection with someone, to really get to know them well and to understand their thoughts, feelings, and opinions. which is hard because he literally has no time at all. but somehow, magically, he manages. and much better than he thought he would

and it's because he absolutely thrives in a relationship. he finally has someone to commit to. something to look forward to. something that give shis life a new meaning. a brighter joy that he has never quite experienced before. sure, he's living his dream, but it's not easy. his life is hectic and tough and crazy and busy and lonely. and therefore he values, much more deeply than others, the feeling of companionship

to love and to be loved. that's what he desires the most. that's what he needs

because this man has so much love to give. he will hold you close to him and never ever let you go

cuddles are a necessity! he's very physically affectionate and essentially wants to be close to you in any way. he doesn't even care if he's the big spoon or little spoon. if he's. a big spoon, he feels like he is protecting you and it feels so good holding you close in his arms. but if he's the little spoon, he would feel so safe and loved and cherished as you hold him tight. he lives for any type of cuddles <3

overall, being in a relationship with chan would be extremely important for him for one key reason: you make him feel like he is at home. he finds himself being so comfortable around you; he is free to be himself, with no judgement. he feels safe with you. that's something he can never deny. you are his best friend, his family, his soulmate. a massive part of his life. he never underestimates how much you mean to him. and he never takes you for granted. not once.

dates with him would include:

studio dates - yes, i know, how predictable. the usual setting of every chan fic out there, i get it, i get it. but he loves it when you're at the studio with him. sometimes you guys work together, just quiet and enjoying each others comfortable company, ordering takeaway food at midnight, falling to sleep together in the early hours of the morning. or you guys just mess around and get like zero work done. either way, he loves it

binge-watching - he counts this as a date. he wants nothing more than after a long day working at the studio, coming home to you snuggling up in his arms in his bed while he puts on a movie or anime or tv show you guys have been watching. it's one of his favourite moments ever. it makes him feel so warm and happy

fireworks display - kinda cliché but also totally his vibe. i think he's watched so many anime with romance fireworks scenes that he's just like 'yep, we have to do this.' and it's breathtaking how perfect it all is. a beautiful moment shared with a beautiful man

i hope chan chooses happiness, above all else <3

[incaseyouart]

Top 5 Life lessons you've learned that you feel comfortable sharing?

People's negative/difficult behaviour is most often NOT because of you. If someone reacts to your "normal" behaviour negatively, or brashly, more often than not that person is hurting in some way. This realization can help smooth out interactions with say, parents, or friends seemingly always going through tough times. I.e I don't have a great relationship with my mom - I never have and I never will - and almost everything she says to me is negative and hurtful, but I realized a long time ago it's because she's hurting about a lot of things, and will likely never put effort forth to fix those things, and therefore uses me as an outlet. I can tolerate being around her because how she behaves is not related to me, but herself. So, try your best to live your life and help those around you, but try not to take brash reactions personally.

Expect nothing and appreciate everything. Super impossibly difficult to do, I know, but it does help in a lot of cases. Part of the human condition makes us arbitrarily expect certain outcomes, or quality of outcomes, with almost no context in which to set those expectations, and then when they're not met, we're disappointed or sometimes even angry. It's hard to go through life, with its many patterns, without some expectations, but when an experience is NOVEL, try not to set any expectations. Simplest example: you enter an entirely new building, and press the "up" button on the elevator, and expect said elevator to arrive promptly. It doesn't. You're now frustrated and impatient. The elevator works independently of you, and cannot know your expectation of its performance. Just be patient and appreciate when it does arrive.

Avoid being a people-pleaser and respect social boundaries. I grew up with emotionally neglectful parents, and am always trying to please people to get positive attention. But, more often than not, I've realized this just makes me appear pushy/needy/clingy, and I think my relationships are more important than they actually are. Example: I have a co-worker with whom I assumed I shared a close friendship, but I am realizing he doesn't really see us as close friends. This ties in with my expectations as well; I expect him to feel what I feel, but he doesn't, and he never will, and I often catch myself pushing for more from him. It's just going to drive him away. I need to be generous with myself but at the same time respect his boundaries. If people really love you they'll come to you, and everyone wins.

The word "FAIL" means "First Attempt In Learning". I was raised with one parent who often told me that "my best isn't good enough", and therefore when it came to school, my standard of failing was 80%. That was super unhealthy. When I got to animation school, the programs were much more difficult and I had to strangle my standards down to the regular 50%. I then accepted that sometimes yes, you might fail, but it's not the end of the world. Adjusting my standard from 80% to 50% actually gave me the space to have a healthy work/life balance and allowed me to be more successful with the subjects I cared about.

Life is too short to not be a bit selfish. Honestly, you can't care about everything. It's too stressful. This ties in with my people-pleasing personality trait, in that I used to (and still do) try to make everyone around me happy, or just try to include everything in my worry-bank (like even as I type this I'm hoping I don't offend anyone etc) but like?? "Those who worry unnecessarily will unneccessarily worry" (I forget who said that) and it's true. Don't be selfish in a BAD way, but try to limit your scope of worrying. Strike a healthy balance and worry about what you CAN fix.

Whew that got deep lol. I hope someone out there appreciates this!

[thismessymasterpiece]

Oh My God, You Think They’re Pretty!

Summary - Spencer Reid can be debilitated by insecurities at times. Never once did he fear they would be because of the love of his life... until now.

Spencer Reid x Reader (she/they pronouns used!)

Category - Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with happy ending, Fluff

TW - Spencer having implied appearance insecurities, Spencer being heartbreakingly sad (apologies and therapy bills paid in advance <3)

Please let me know if I missed anything!

Contains - Spencer having a lot a bit of self-doubt (Yes, he cries. Yes, I am very sorry.), mention of Neville Longbottom from the Harry Potter series and the actor that plays him, Matthew Lewis, and Spencer being a sad lil' bean

Author’s Note - As always, please, please do not hesitate to leave me any helpful comments or provide any constructive criticism. All I hope to do is to improve my writing and hopefully spread some comfort to anyone who may find themselves needing it. Now, if you have been here for more than a hot second, you can imagine how thrilled I was to include two of my favorite fictionals in the same fic, even if Neville made Spencer a bit uncomfy... you'll see ;) I think I made it pretty hard with this one but enjoy <3

The agent consulting on a particularly trying case, retitled Ashley Seaver, was pretty good. She certainly didn't think so but she made for quite the helpful addition to the team. What she was also good for, however, was a couple of well-meaning jokes on the behalf of one favorite resident genius. Garcia was a top-notch perp when it came to the crime.

"...And that is the whole kit and kaboodle on each of your sixty-four suspects. Nothing really stands out, they're all pretty plain," Garcia told one such genius over the phone.

"That's pretty much the main issue we're gonna have here," Reid responded as he surveyed the files she was printing for him.

"Yeah, vanilla doesn't make your job any easier," Penny joked.

"No, it does not," Spencer confirmed.

"So, um, how's it going with the agent whose father was a... y'know?"

"How'd you know that?" An inquisitive tone came over him.

"...I might've looked into someone's hidden background."

At his disbelieving silence, Penelope felt the need to defend her actions, "What? I am not gonna let some strange, new person travel with my family and not find out who they are."

"I don't know, she seems fine," Spencer reassured, looking over to the agent of the hour who was viewing a file beside his girlfriend, Y/N.

"What is that in your voice?" Garcia asked, suddenly highly suspicious.

"What's what in my voice?" He clarified, brows meeting.

"Oh my god, you think she's pretty!" Penny exclaimed.

"What? I never said that!" Reid's voice must have jumped six octaves.

"Ho, ho, you totally do!" She couldn't help but laugh aloud, "P.G. out, Lover Boy!" Garcia reached to hang up the phone before the boy genius jumped to stop her.

"Garcia, Garcia, wait!" He practically yelled.

"Yes, my love?" She retreated.

"Um..." He sounded extremely anxious.

"What is it?" Garcia pressed.

"Don't- Do me a favor and don't say anything like that to, Y/N, okay?" He whispered.

"Reid," Garcia's voice changed to a degree that even Spencer's analytical mind couldn't decipher, "what are you asking me to do?"

"Just don't say anything like that to or in front of my girlfriend," He mumbled ashamedly.

"Because?" She pressured.

"Because it is not true and I love her and I think she is the most beautiful person in the world and I would never want to hurt her feelings by letting her think I thought anything different!" He exclaimed in a rush.

Penelope couldn't help the mischievous grin that broke out on her face.

"Oh, Boy Wonder, you are sweet but I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"Why do you say that?" He sounded suspicious again.

"Well, you can still think someone is pretty in a relationship,” She emphasized.

"No, you can't!" Spencer enthused, "That's cheating!"

"Oh, sweets," Garcia impassioned, "say what you will but if you think that when you watch the Harry Potter movies with Y/N, they are watching for the plot and not one particularly delicious Matthew Lewis, you must be crazier than an unsub."

Reid pouted, hurt.

"What do you mean?" He sounded defeated.

Garcia, sensing her mistake, backtracked.

"Oh, I've said too much... P.G. out, Lover Boy!" She called again and made sure to put on a spurt of speed he couldn't beat. The line disconnected.

So, it seemed, had Y/N's lover boy.

Throughout the rest of the case, he avoided her. He shied away from her at any opportunity and flinched every single time the consulting agent walked into the same room as them.

He had put so much distance between them that Y/N could not possibly just ignore it. Problem was, cases made it pretty dang easy for him to do just that.

On the jet home, Spencer had been reading a book in immense focus. When Y/N had suggested they settle back into their shared apartment with a nice Harry Potter marathon from bed, he broke away from his book to give her a betrayed look and moved seats.

Where he couldn't run away, luckily, was at their home.

"Spence, look, we gotta talk about this."

"What do you wanna talk about?" He asked, quickly losing his satchel at the door and walking away, entering the bedroom.

"I don't know what's bothering you lately but, I'm not gonna lie, you're worrying me."

"Nothing's bothering me, Y/N," the quiet of his voice was muffled almost silent as he changed his shirt in his closet.

"Spencer," Y/N stood in the doorway, blocking his exit when he looked about to make a run for it.

"What?" He asked, meeting her eyes for the first time in days.

"Tell me what's wrong, bubs?" She pleaded, "Please! I cannot help or make it better if you don't tell me."

He remained silent and lightly pushed past her in the doorway.

"What? You don't wanna be around me anymore? Am I annoying you? Bothering you? Are you ashamed of me? Don't think I'm pretty anymore? What?" Y/N fumed as he stormed over to the bed.

"No!" He yelled back.

"Then what?" Y/N screamed.

"Well, I could ask you all of those questions and I am pretty sure I know the answers. That's what's wrong!"

"Spence... what?" Y/N deflated, pausing for a moment and looking at a loss for words.

"I was talking to Garcia," Reid whispered, falling to the bed as the fight visibly drained out of him.

"Uh huh," Y/N encouraged, remaining at the foot of the bed, hesitant to touch him for fear of making his vulnerable state worse.

"Well, she kinda told me..." He hesitated, worsening Y/N's anxiety, "Do you still think I am pretty?"

"Oh my God, Spence, what is she telling you?"

"You just answered my question with another question," He sounded heartbroken.

"Spence," Y/N threw caution to the wind, sitting down on the bed beside him and grasping both his hands in hers, "of course I do."

"Are you sure?" He wouldn't meet her eye.

"Yes," Y/N emphasized as passionately as possible, "what is Penny telling you?"

"Are you ashamed of me?" He ignored her question.

"Now you're answering my questions with your own."

"Are you going to answer my question?"

"Are you going to answer mine?"

He turned away dejectedly.

"Spence, please, just tell me. Nothing can be this bad!"

"It is!" He turned back, tears flooding his eyes and breaking her heart, "It really hurt my feelings and I don't appreciate you invalidating that!"

His voice cracked and so did Y/N's disposition. They pulled him into a tight hug and he sobbed into her shoulder.

"I am so sorry, my love," They mumbled into his neck, "I want to help and I don't mean to hurt you worse but I need you to tell me how."

Pulling away, he wiped his eyes roughly with the back of his hand.

"She told me that you watch Harry Potter with me because you think Neville is pretty and I... I thought I was the only one," He frowned, tears brimming his eyes again.

"Oh, Spence," She brought a hand to his cheek, wiping a trail of tears with their thumb, "you are."

He looked away.

"Spence, does the sheer existence of broccoli make chocolate taste any worse?" Y/N changed tactics.

"Huh?" He asked, thoroughly baffled.

"Bear with me here, bubs, and answer the question."

"Well, no, of course not," He answered earnestly.

"Exactly," Y/N grinned at his sweet demeanor, "just because I think an actor or a character is pretty doesn't mean I think you any less pretty."

"Are you sure?" He mumbled.

"Of course, they're so pretty but so, very much so, are you."

He nudged his cheek closer to Y/N's hand, still resting on it. It was answer enough for her.

"What I do wanna know, Spence," they smiled up at him, "is why this conversation even spawned."

Y/N felt his cheek warm and he blushed a deep, pretty pink.

taglist, i suppose :)

@safespacespence

dividers courtesy of the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune <3

[number-onekidqueen]

𝓼𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓼 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓰𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓼 - 𝓳𝓲𝓵𝔂

James Potter x Lily Evans

fluff and a bit of angst

Warnings: injuries, mentions of blood, banter

There is a saying that states that the true character of castles, mansions and other grand architecture always reveal themselves at night.

And Lily absolutely agreed.

While Hogwarts was absolutely stunning by day, by night it was even more magical. The gothic-style halls and corridors were spotted with shadows and alight with flickering, orange candles.

The stars of the roof in the great hall glinted like diamond dust, sprinkled across a sky only a few tones darker than the deep navy hues of Ravenclaw.

Whenever she was walking back to her dormitory, after a patrol, she always took the long route so she could gaze up at the stars. Even though she knew they were a simple projection, and she had seen them nearly every night for seven years, they never failed to give her a giddy rush of wonder whenever she set her eyes upon them.

She especially liked to see them after patrols, because it was just the thing that lifted her up and gave her enough energy to return to her dormitory.

And she only had a few staircases left.

Just a few more steps until she was wrapped in the tantalising warmth of her bed sheets and covers, her back comforted by the soft mattress.

And then, finally, she could enjoy her slumber, which would hopefully be long and uninterrupted by a drunk James bustling into their shared common room below.

She frowned at the thought.

She hadn't been aware of any parties that night, so she was quite sure she was in the clear, but you could never be quite certain with James and his Marauders. They had a habit of springing up complex and impulsive party ideas.

Finally, she spotted her door at the end of the corridor.

Whispering the password, Lily clambered into the portrait hole once it swung open for her.

All was dark and quiet in their small common room.

Feeling her way around, Lily headed for the left side of the room, aiming for her staircase to her dormitory and trying to give a wide berth to large furniture. She tried not to think of what going up the wrong staircase might lead to, as the thought made her blush.

Her feet touched the flat, carpeted surface of the first step. She slowly made her way up, creeping one step at a time, careful not to be too loud, as James had been working very hard and late recently, and the poor boy deserved some sleep.

Opening her door, Lily switched on the lamp on her dresser, kicked off her shoes into the corner and began the motion of removing her coat, when she noticed something.

Or rather, someone.

James potter lay crumpled on her bed, glasses removed, hair unruly, his grin wider than what seemed possible for human mouths to achieve.

"By all means, continue," he said with a smirk.

Lily blushed and threw her coat at his face to cover that.

"Is there a reason you're in my bed?" She questioned, frowning down at him.

"I... have a bit of a problem," he confessed, all humour gone.

Still, Lily was tired and this was her room, so she decided to tease him a little.

"What, can't get yourself to bed, Potter? Want me to tuck you in and sing a lullaby?" 

"I'll be fine for tonight, although I must ask next time," He laughed, before visibly wincing and beginning to cough lightly. 

And that was when Lily noticed.

The blood.

"What on Earth happened?!" She exclaimed, scurrying over to him.

"I-I can't tell you. But it hurts like hell, that's for sure. That's why I need your help. Because Sirius is no nurse, he can't patch himself up for love or money." 

"So Sirius is involved in these adventures of yours too?" Lily accused.

"No- I mean yes, but he isn't bashing me or anything, we're... doing stuff- I can't tell you, okay? I just really need your help to get sewn together."

"And what about Sirius?" Lily questioned, concerned, as she removed his shirt and examined his chest wounds.

"Oh, don't worry, he's fine," James replied with a grin.

"What? So only you got hurt?"

"No, no, Pads has got plenty of scars and scratches. He's just got someone to sew them up for him too." At this, he smirked.

"And you can't go to them?"

"Of course not," James exclaimed, "it's Marlene!"

Lily pulled away from studying him at this, scowling at him.

"Look, just because he likes her, doesn't mean she's the best for him in this situation. What he needs, is Madam Pomfrey, or just another nurse. Although Madam Pomfrey is young, she's still amazing and very experienced at her job and-"

"Since when did this become a Madam Pomfrey promotion?" James asked, rolling his eyes, "No, wait, let me guess, you think she's an amazing role model?"

"She's maybe the most talented healer I know!" Lily protested, blushing.

James rolled his eyes again. 

"While your idolising of Madam Pomfrey is hilarious, it's besides the point. The point is, the hospital wing is closed-"

"It can be opened in need of emergency, which appears to be the c-" Lily interrupted.

"No, it doesn't matter. Madam Pomfrey already suspects us enough. She doesn't need to know any more than she already does."

"Suspects you?" Lily's eyes widened, "James, what is this you're involved with? Are you in danger, what-?"

"It doesn't matter," James cut in, "Look, Lily, I trust you. And as your friend, I just trusted you to be able to patch me up without blabbing about anything. Can you please do that?"

Lily bit her lip, staring him in the eyes and considering. A moment later, she nodded, disappearing into the bathroom silently, where James assumed she would fetch some medical supplies.

Lily worked in silence, only blushing again slightly when her hands touched his chest for the first time, as she began to wash the cuts and scratches.

Luckily, most of them were superficial and shallow, with only the odd short and deep one, and in the end none of them needed to be stitched up, only cleaned with water, antiseptic and then bandaged.

Once she was finished, she patted him on the shoulder, stepping aside and waiting as he stared at her.

She waited for him to spring off her bed, grin wildly and with another flirty and slightly degrading comment, leave for his bedroom. 

He didn't move.

"Can you walk, Potter?" She questioned, amusement filling her voice.

"I-yeah, I think I can, sorry," he mumbled, rolling off her bed and shakily getting to his feet.

He stayed there, resuming his staring.

"You right?" Lily questioned, her eyebrows furrowing and now actually concerned.

"Y-yeah," he seemed to shake himself out of something once more, "Sorry, I'm just really tired. Thanks for helping me. I promise I'll make this up to you sometime."

"I don't know about that, Potter, but anytime. Get some sleep, and don't come in a state like that again."

She hovered for a second as he moved to the door, before she stepped forward and embraced him.

"Keep safe," she whispered, as they pulled apart.

She smiled awkwardly, stepping back into her room as he grinned faintly, before disappearing down the staircase.

And as Lily retreated back into her room, her hands smothered in James' blood, she had a realisation. 

She would do that again and again if it meant she saved him.

She would do anything to help or save James Potter.

[starjaeyun]

DRUNKEN STATE [PART 1 TO TRAITOR]

your boyfriend's drunken words and actions were all it took for you to know the truth

𖦹 Ken Ryuuguji x Fem! Reader

𖦹 warning/s : angst, cursing/use of profanity, Draken is using Reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, an au where in no one dies, everyone is aged up to 18+, betrayal, Toman lowkey being stupid, more angst, hurt/comfort <3, cheating, arguing

𖦹 I have to write this at some point in time 🤨🤚 also I'm on a Doraken x Reader brainrot so here's more for him

"Hey guys, have you seen Draken?"

the sound of your voice made Chifuyu and Takemichi jump "H— Hey! Y/n-chan what brings you here?" you raised a brow "I'm part of Toman 'fuyu"

"right right! uhm would you like some drinks? I'd get you some. what would you like? tequila, vodka— anything!"

"yeah uhh thanks have you seen Draken?"

the duo shook their heads almost immediately "oh him? no no we uhh we haven't seen him"

"you two look rather nervous. what's going on? did something happen to him? OH! look there he is" you made your way to the booth Draken was in

"wait wait wait— Y/n don't go in ther—" too late. before they could stop you, you were already inside the booth sitting beside Draken

"Love? hey are you alright?" you leaned in to press a kiss on his lips but he pushed you away making you confused

"stop it! Emma's going to think I'm cheating on her!"

you froze "what?"

"I said stop! Emma's going to—" before he could finish his sentence you slapped him. hard. you could see your hand print forming on his cheek but you could care less.

everyone's attention turned to you two, immediately running towards the booth to see the scene unfold

"how long?" confusion painted Draken's face "how long have you been with her?!"

"6 months. why?" a scoff left your lips

"did you guys know about this?" you asked the others without looking at them but they knew your question was directed at them

they exchanged looks, nodding at each other in agreement "y— yes"

"you knew and you never told me?"

"we never told you because we wanted to protect you a— and we knew your reaction would be bad. we don't want to hurt y—"

"YOU DON'T WANT TO HURT ME?! DO I LOOK LIKE I'M NOT HURTING?! I THOUGHT WE WERE SUPPOSED TO HELP EACH OTHER?! BE THERE FOR EACH OTHER!"

"WE WANTED YOU TO—"

"OH FUCK THE EXPLANATION MIKEY! I BET YOU DIDN'T EVEN TRY TO STOP THEM!"

"I DIDN'T STOP THEM BECAUSE I KNEW THEY WOULDN'T LISTEN"

"NO! YOU DIDN'T STOP THEM BECAUSE DRAKEN IS YOUR BEST FRIEND AND EMMA IS YOUR SISTER! YOU COULD'VE TOLD ME BUT NO— YOU DIDN'T!"

silence filled the room when they heard you sobbing "you're so selfish Mikey. all of you are so selfish"

"Y/n-chan we're—" you raised a hand cutting Takemichi's sentence off "stop. I now know why you two were so nervous a while ago and why you didn't want me to go the damn booth"

"Mikey" the said boy turned to you "I'm leaving Toman"

"what?" everyone stood there in shock "didn't you hear me? I said I'm leaving Toman. if the reason's still not clear to you then maybe because I don't want to be in a gang filled with traitors"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

and that happened a few weeks ago.

so here they were standing in shock as they stared at you who's now wearing a Valhalla jacket as you stood next to Hanma as if you're never a part of Toman

© raikirii on tumblr | do not repost my works

[sinnerdolly]

Break up with your boyfriend.

Summary: all started as occasional sex, until he felt something for you, and he doesn't want to be your lover any more. So... break up with your boyfriend.

Mikey, Kazutora, Baji.

English isn't my mother language, so if you see any error, you're welcome to correct me.

Mikey

At first, he was attracted by your beauty, you had only one purpose for him, fuck. A fuck toy to let stress out, a simple hole where he can come all he want. So he doesn't care about your boyfriend, even he doesn't care about your existence after ejaculate inside your walls; but ... when you started talking after sex he discovered how charming and intelligent you were. He fell for you.

And now, just thinking about that idiot kissing you... touching his property, burns his blood. He couldn't be calm, share you, unthinkable, so Mikey get hands in the matter.

“Mikey!” you moan. His huge cock beating all the right places, stretching your soft walls deliciously. While his hand pressed you against the professor's desk, with your breasts bouncing out of your uniform's shirt.

“Yes, babe” he kissed your neck, letting marks in it. “You're mine, right?” he grunted taking you from the cheeks, looking at you with a possessive dark gaze.

“Yes... ” you whispered, without knowing your boyfriend was seeing you through the door's window. “I'm all yours... Ah!” you're eyes crossed in a delicious ecstasy face, wich only the Touman's leader could make you do. “I-I'm... cumming!” Mikey smiled to your boyfriend, biting his lip while you cum around his dick.

You had been his since Mikey's gaze crossed with your figure in that park. That guy just need to know your cunt were molded to his cock, and he would never let anyone be inside your silky and comfortable pussy. Mikey's safe zone in another words.

Kazutora

From his twisted perspective, you were manipulating him, 'cause you had sex with him in a party, and after that he couldn't stop thinking about how you kiss him like if he was the most special person in the world... of your world.

But you didn't tell Tora about your boyfriend. And he found you aside the skate ramp, the asshole cornering you, on point to kiss you.

“Why are you touching her?” Kazutora's fists punched your boyfriend's face over and over until make him bleed and spit blood. “She's mine!”

You take his hand before Tora kills your boyf... ex boyfriend. He look at you, with that eyes distilling crazy which you love so hard.

“It's okay, honey” you kiss his cheek “I'm all yours, let's go to my house”

With just feel your touch he forgot his desire of warp you ex boy's face. And he follow you like the dog he is.

And maybe yes, you were manipulating Kazutora to do some things wich was wrong, like this, but you love him, that was the important part here.

Baji

Stole someone's girl was unforgivable inside Baji's codes. But when you entered in the first division, he couldn't avoid fall in love with you while seeing you fight.

Nonetheless, he tried to be away from you. Until you search comfort in his bed when Draken —your best friend— was injured by Moebius.

So he doesn't have another option than make you his girl. But Baji isn't the kind of man who force you to do something.

His plan to make you break with your boyfriend is so simple, be a better man than him. Pleasing you, loving you like the goddess you were, until you fall for him.

“Kei” you called him, in the middle of the night, the room lighting by the moon outside the window. He just grunted and caressed your back with his fingers. “I know... we're just lovers” Baji's heart stopped a sec, knowing where you wanna go with that phrase “but I broke up with my boyfriend”

“Why?” he interrupted you, anxious about the answer, the illusion reflected in his hazel eyes.

“Because when I'm with him I just think in you, Kei”

Baji was proud of himself, he had to be his best version to has you. Without violence, he could love fights but he would never hurt you.

But your boyfriend didn't accepted the reject so easily, and Kei wouldn't let anyone scared his little girl. So he did what he want to since he knew your ex boyfriend, he burned his car.

“I guess now you'll be stay away from Y/n” Baji's laugh made eccho around the place, your ex in his knees looking his car being incinerated. “Or the following burned will be you, understood?”

[jessnotfoundd]

𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞?

Pairing : cc!Wilbur x reader!

Masterlist here!

Wilbur came to my house on the last day of the tour and we spent the whole week together.

-That movie is trash- he says sitting down at my side.

-What if I wanted to see it?- I put on the best puppy eyes I could.

-Yeah, no, sorry darling, but we are not doing this.- he leans to kiss my forehead and I snuggle on his chest while his left-hand trace invisible lines in my back.

-I thought you were a better man- I said and I can feel him smirk.

-Yeah, whatever- he kisses my head and I can't help but melt.

-I might ask Tommy to see that movie, he's gonna be okay for sure.- I sit back to see him, the smirk already gone.

-Well, maybe we can make a deal- he gets his face a little closer to mine.

-No, you're never fair with deals- My smile grows.

-I was going to propose something super cool but you didn't let me even finish. So yes, deal with hurting my tall man's feelings. - he goes all dramatic.

-I can deal with that if you don't cry too loud- I joke and he pretends to cry.

-That goes straight to my heart. Hear it break- he put the right hand of his on the heart.

-Will. There is no heart- I said and he looks away.

-Stop. you're digging my grave now.- we both laugh and I kiss his cheek.

-I love you, Wilbur.- I go back to the previous position we were in and let him actually choose a movie.

-I love you too, y/n-

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

-You cook so well.- he says mouthful of cake and I laugh.

I made some cake to celebrate I'm now going to be a teacher and he was there to celebrate with me.

I sit on his lap and I feel safe, it was never this way with anyone else.

-Will- he looks at me.

-Yes, darling?- he holds me so I wouldn't fall.

-Thanks for being here. It means a lot.- I lean to rest my head on his chest. Mostly to hide how in love I was. I feel hard for this man.

-I'm always gonna be here for you babe- he kisses my head and I play with his fingers. -Now, open your mouth.- he says collecting cake on the fork he was using.

-Ugh, it has your saliva, Wilbur.- I joke. I actually didn't mind.

-And?- he takes the fork closer to my mouth. I open it anyways.

-Do you think it'll stop raining?- I ask looking out the window and he nods negatively.

-It'll be a long long night of movies.- he sings and I protest jokingly.

-Your movie's taste is so weird, just like you.-

He acts hurt again and I just laugh.

-Stop treating me that way, you're always so mean to me.- I push his shoulder.

-Shut up I make myself more comfortable on his lap and he speaks.

-Darling, I love you so fucking much that I can't help with the feeling of wanting to kiss you right now.- he says and I fix myself so I can face him.

-For real?- I look at him in shock.

-Yes, I've loved you since we were like 18-

"if you're going to break my heart, can we do it outside?-

-But it's raining- I smirk.

-That way i can go all in on my melodramatic movie moment.-

-But im not gonna break youre heart, i love you too and I've been feeling the same way for a long time now.

-Then can we kiss outside?-

-Wilbur, we're not going outside.- I laugh.

-You're so boring.- he brushes it off.

-Come here, you idiot.- I take him by the collar of his T-shirt and bring him for a kiss.

-Damn, I wanted to be the first one to go for a kiss.-

-We can pretend that didn't happen.-

-Yeah, let's just forget that one, come here.- he reaches for the back of my neck, making me go closer until our lips are smashing into each other so desperately.

[lovemayari]

Would you write a fluff Druig imagine set after Endgame where the reader is Tony Stark’s younger sister who’s hiding her grief as she’s taken over his duties (other than being Iron Man) after his passing so she’s the epitome of the quote “you take care of everyone but who takes care of you?” since he’s developed feelings for her? Thank you!

let me take care of you

editor's notes ; hi anon !!! thank you for requesting KJSDHKJSAHKADSH i kinda got off topic, especially since this is an imagine and...yeah DSKHAJKHAKJ it also focused on the events of endgame, so if you haven't watched it, yeah, there are kinda spoilers. but ngl, i think it's good to see how the y/n also cared for everyone, which can be seen throughout the fic. although not everything is canon compliant since i haven't watched avengers: endgame in a while, so let me know what you think!

wc ; 2.21k

warnings ; a few eternals spoilers ahead but not really lol ALSKFALKFHKJ avengers endgame spoilers, major character death but it's not you or druig lol, uh mediocre fight scenes KJASDHKJDAH, cursing, angst, hurt/comfort esp at the end ! a bit of fluff (let me know if i missed anything!)

summary ; druig has been with you for quite sometime now, especially in your hardest times. he's just tired of you dealing with it alone.

pairing ; druig x stark! reader (you're tony's younger sister, but not too young, kinda like the same age as natasha or younger)

want to subscribe to the daily bugle ? [join the taglist]

unbeknownst to the other eternals, sersi wasn't the only one with a human lover. druig has been visiting his lover when thanos and his children attacked earth, and being the younger sister of iron man, you went with your brother to help and defeat thanos. you were with him on titan, screaming when thanos had your brother, forcing dr. strange to give up the stone. you were with him when peter and the others started turning into dust. and five years later, druig watched as you helped your brother figure out how to bring back the others.

as it is not in his mission as an eternal, his family didn't want to intervene with the events before and during the so-called blip. he did, however, visit you in the five years that half the population were gone. despite popular belief, druig does have a soft spot…for you, that is.

"hello, my love," you softly smiled at druig as he placed his forehead against yours. you were in your office (of some sorts), doing your duties to the stark industries to help your brother and his wife, given that they now had morgan. "have you rested, dear?"

you stopped for a while, rubbing your eyes. "hi, druig. i'm okay, just catching up on stark duties. my brother has been focusing on the time travel thingy, so i need to help pepper with the company."

druig was quick to hold your hands, bringing them to his lips, making you laugh. "what are you doing, druig?"

"come with me, y/n," druig said, pressing a light kiss on your lips. his hands snaked your hips, pulling you even closer. protests died on your lips as he kissed you senseless, but of course, the moment is soon interrupted by your phone ringing.

"wait, druig, i need to answer that," druig didn't want to let you go, but he also doesn't want to risk getting you mad, so he reluctantly let you answer.

"hello, tony?"

"i figured it out."

"what?" you were in disbelief. "does it mean…?"

"yes, we're going to try and get them back. meet us at the compound, we need to plan this."

you shuddered, breathing deep. "yeah, okay, i'm on my way."

druig's brows furrowed hearing this. where are you going? you quickly stood up, gathered your things, going to leave but stopped by druig. "what's happening, where are you going?"

"tony found a way to bring them back. i'm sorry, i need to go."

"but,"

"druig," your voice was hard, removing his hold on you. "i'm really sorry, but i have to be there. i need to do this. i'll find you when it's over."

"don't die on me, y/n."

you smiled, kissing him. "i wouldn't dream of it."

needless to say, it went better than expected, especially with tony's help. you chuckled to yourself, remembering natasha's retelling about how scott turned into a baby in one of their failed attempts to time travel. but, of course, the idea of traveling to the past to get the infinity stones to try and reverse what thanos did seemed absurd enough on its own, but then again, your life as an avengers (and the partner of one of the eternals) is bound to get absurd on its own.

after clint came back successful and assignments were handed out for whose team's going to get the stones, you were off. you were going with thor and rocket to asgard while tony's team is going to new york, and nat's and rhodes' are going to morag and vormir.

"see you in a minute," natasha said, smiling at steve.

"be careful, tony," you said, smiling at him as well.

"see you on the flip side, sis."

and so, the teams went to get the stones. your team went with just a minor hitch, but if it helped thor, it's not really a bother. coming back was kind of disorienting, but you were excited…everything would be back the way it was…until it wasn't.

remembering natasha was a quiet affair with the avengers. you flinched when bruce shouted, but clint…he told you about what was said when they went to vormir. your eyes were bloodshot as they argued.

"we need to give her a proper funeral," you said, albeit quietly. "she deserves to be with family."

they all agreed, so you initiated, planning a short but proper funeral for one of your closest friends. druig hung back at the small ceremony, watching you as you cried in your brother's arms. he let you be, knowing you needed the time to grieve.

and, then it was time to bring everyone back. you pat bruce's arm before shielding yourself with your armor, and then he snapped. it was quiet for a while, but then laura was calling clint and then, they're back! everyone's back and yet, you couldn't stop this ominous feeling.

"what the fuck is that?" you asked, eyes wide. you vaguely heard the others shouting before you were trapped as the compound fell and crashed on you. your ears were ringing as you looked at the mess that is the compound and looked for any of the avengers. clint was underneath some rubble beside you so you immediately helped him up.

"we need to find the others." you nodded, helping clint as he gripped the gauntlet. you looked up, seeing nebula. you grinned, calling her but was confused��she seemed weird.

"hey, nebula, mind giving us a hand?" nebula got near you two, reaching for the gauntlet, but you knew better, immediately punching her. "wait, y/n!"

"that's not nebula, i don't know who the fuck you are, but you aren't getting this gauntlet." clint looked at the two of you, clearly confused and a bit concussed.

"just give me the gauntlet."

"never," you powered up your suit, similar to your brothers, and engaged in battle. "clint, you need to get out of here and get to tony."

"okay," you gave him the gauntlet, focusing on the fake nebula in front of you. "be safe, y/n."

you immediately battled 'nebula', focusing on her weak points from what amelia, your AI, told you. you were both interrupted by another nebula and…gamora, from the looks of it.

"y/n, are you alright?"

"nebula! wait, is that really you?"

"yes, you should go to stark, he is currently battling our father, we'll deal with her."

"thank you," you flew, asking amelia where your brother was. when you pinpointed his location, you saw thanos and your brother, steve, and thor. shit. you couldn't risk making it worse so you connected with friday's comms.

"hey, tony. you need any help?"

"y/n! shit, fuck, you need t–," you screamed as thanos used as a shield, his system failing making you fly immediately to his side. you opened his faceplate, asking amelia to scan him and was fortunate enough for just a few bruises.

you watched as steve and thor fought off thanos, as thanos almost killed thor, and as steve wielded mjolnir. you couldn't do anything…not because you didn't want to, but you can't leave your brother.

you helped him up, careful of his bruises as thor was now on the ground. steve fought him more, but thanos got the upper hand, destroying the shield as thanos summoned his army. you were hopeless, arms still around your brother as you both approached thor.

"...on your left," all of you looked at the portals…wait, is everyone…?

you breathed in relief, tears in your eyes as you looked at your family coming through the portals. everyone was back…which means…you flew with your brother, his systems functioning at least, standing besides steve. pepper is donning her own iron suit, a gift tony was reserving for their anniversary. tony looked at you, nodding.

"avengers," steve said, summoning mjolnir. "assemble!"

the fight–no, war, was on. you flew, shooting lasers and helping your brother in battle. you saw cull obsidian punched him, making you retaliate, effectively rendering him unconscious. you saw peter approaching you both as he rambled about what happened. tony was quick to hug him, you second, as he returned the hug.

"okay, we need to go and get the stones away from thanos."

it went forever, you thought, as you fought your way to prevent thanos from getting the stones. but then, he had the gauntlet and all was gone.

"i am inevitable," he snapped his fingers…nothing happened, wait…what? then you saw tony, the stones on his own gauntlet.

but before you could stop him, he looked at thanos. "and i…am iron man."

you all stopped, looking as everyone in thanos' army disintegrated. you were quick to fly beside your brother, seeing the toll it took on his human body when he snapped. you took off your suit and cried, holding your brother as everyone went to you and him. peter was crying beside you as he told tony you won, and pepper…oh, pepper. she sat beside you as you both helped tony sit up.

"hey," pepper's voice was steady but you knew how much this is for her.

"hey, pep," he tried to look at you but you shook your head, telling him it's okay. "hey, y/n."

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?"

"life functions critical," your hand goes to your mouth, stifling the sobs escaping it. he wasn't gonna make it.

"tony, look at me." you sobbed beside pepper, holding one of his hands. she held his face, smiling as tears fell down her face. "we're gonna be okay, you can rest now."

and with that, the arc reactor lost its light. pepper clutched onto her husband as she cried. you let go of his hand, standing beside peter. you didn't stop crying as everyone kneeled to honor tony. the funeral was quaint, your family grieved as you all watched tony's last message. he was gone.

months passed after everyone was back…and your brother was gone. druig came to your room after the funeral and comforted you. he let you cry on his shoulders as he held you, heart easily breaking for one of his beloved mortals. he offered to take you away from everything but you couldn't just leave. there was many things to do, especially with the company. with tony gone, you needed to step in and help pepper and of course, being iron man, your brother left a lot of duties.

you worked and worked and worked, forcing yourself into exhaustion, hoping it would take your mind off of your brother. druig always tried to persuade you but you didn't get swayed. you couldn't. the least you could do for your brother is to continue is his legacy, and that you did. and because of it, you didn't really have time for your partner, and he wasn't going to let it happen any longer.

"y/n," druig's voice was stern. "you need to rest."

"no, druig. i need to finish these reports. tony wou–,"

"no, y/n! you are one foot away from dying! i won't let that happen!"

"druig, you need to und–,"

"no, you need to understand!" his voice was firm as he gripped your shoulders, trying not to tighten them too much. "you're working yourself to death. your family is worried about you. i'm worried about you!"

"but tony–,"

"tony's gone," druig looked apologetic. "i'm sorry, love, but he's gone. and he wouldn't be happy if you died just after he sacrificed himself for you and for everyone he loved and for the whole world."

you finally let druig hug you, his clothes immediately getting wet as you cried. your hands gripped him, scared. "i'm sorry. ever since tony died, i tried to do everything he did. i couldn't let his legacy just die, he doesn't deserve to be forgotten. as his sister, i needed to take on the role, but i…i can't. tony's gone and iron man's gone, and i miss him so fucking much, druig. it hurts."

he pulled you closer, rubbing circles on your back as he assured you. "i know it hurts. i may not truly understand, but living with you mortals for a thousand years or so, i had my fair share of grieving. and, it's okay to grieve. it's okay. but, you need to remember to take care of yourself. ever since winning against thanos, you didn't stop taking care of everyone, even if it didn't concern you. darling, you take care of everyone but who takes care of you?"

his hands moved to your face, wiping away your tears and resting his forehead against yours. "if you let me, i'd gladly take care of you for all eternity."

"oh, druig." you smiled, crying still. "is this really going to work?"

"i'll make it work, my beautiful, beautiful, y/n." you laughed at his nickname for you. he smiled, seeing you a bit happy was a start. "i love you."

"i love you too, druig."

he kissed you softly, relishing in your beauty as he took your lips in his. you laughed once more as he kissed your forehead, resting his on yours once more.

"let me take care of you, y/n."

you smiled, kissing him once more. "i would be honored, my druig."

© lovemayari ; do not modify or reupload anywhere else but reblogs are greatly appreciated !

[bowandcurtsey]

Hey! Can I ask for a scenario where Yami is on a mission with Fuego, Nozel and Willian in Hino country to retrieve a powerfull magical artifact and in the middle of the mission they save F!reader, a geisha with an incomparable beauty who was being pursued by some vassals of a cruel feudal lord who claims to love her, but it's a yandere obsession because of a one-sided love. Plot Twist: This beautiful geisha is Yami's younger sister and results in an emotional family reunion between them.

Hello lovely bby! Thank you for this creative request! AHHH our first geisha related request! I'll do my best ♡( ◡‿◡ )

Fuegoleon, Nozel, William, Yami & f! geisha! reader

Yami was beyond excited to be back in his hometown. It has been over 20 years since he last stepped foot here and everything is different now.

The place he used to call home seems like a foreign place to him. The port, the boats, the shops... They were no longer how he remembered them to be. The only thing that told him that he was back in his hometown was the Hino flag waving high above the beach tower.

He traced his way back home, the routes all unfamiliar after 20 years that it took them 2 days to get to his hometown which was also just by the seashores they came from.

His house... was empty. The neighbours said it had been empty since the old couple died. Yes, Yami parents had passed on and his siblings have moved out one by one. He had no idea where their graves were.

He took comfort in being able to even step foot back to this land again; never in his wildest dream did he think that he would be able to come back here, so he told himself to be grateful for this.

"They would be happy to know that you're back," William put a reassuring hand on his friend's humongous back.

"They would have welcomed all of you with open arms," Yami chuckled a little while reminiscing his parents, "the folks loved a good company."

The four of them stayed for the night and carried on their mission the next day.

----

It was a difficult mission especially since they were in a foreign land, but thanks to Yami who could still speak his native language, they managed to get clues and directions here and there.

The 4 men found themselves in the famous red light district of Hino.

"You're sure they said the artefact we're looking for is here?" Nozel threw a judging look at Yami.

"Yeah, that's what the old lady said, braidy." Yami taunted at the fellow captain.

"Well, let's just have a look around, shall we?" Fuegoleon politely rejected a hostess that was making her advances on him.

After walking down a few streets and turning down countless of ladies, (well it was a rare sight to see 4 handsome and charismatic men walking down the red light district) the captains were about to call it quits when they heard a scream and the sound of smashing glasses.

"Let me go!" a lady was being grabbed by the wrist by a huge man who was tall and muscular, his face was full of malice towards the beautiful young lady. He even had a few underlings with him.

"It's an order by Lord Kaho." the pursuer was relentless and wouldn't budge despite hurting the poor girl.

"I believe that's not the way for a man to treat a girl," Fuegoleon had a hand on the man shoulder.

"Do you not feel shame for hurting someone that's weaker than you?" Nozel was on his other shoulder.

The two royals had no idea what the lady and the man were talking about, but it was clear the lady did not want to go with the man.

"They said to let her go." Yami spoke to the man in Hino language.

"Who are you, this is an order by Lord Kaho, to make her his bride!" the man shrugged their hands away and dragged the girl so hard that she fell.

In the blink of an eye, the man and his underlings were beaten up by the captains and they scurried away, spewing a thread of incoherent words.

"oi, you ok?" Yami extended his hand to the lady.

"Yes, I am, thank you.." You spoke with simple english, surprising the four men. You were suddenly thankful that you learnt a little from some of those foreign customers that came by your workplace, as you took the big guy's hand to get up from the ground.

-------

The captains decided to walk you safely home, despite you telling them that you were fine. You explained to them that you were a Geisha that some feudal lord took a liking to and forced you to marry him, causing a ruckus at your work place.

You ran away to hiding but he sent his men to find you. You had no idea what to do since you could no longer work because of all the problems he's caused but you didn't like this Lord Kaho and didn't want to marry him.

"Actually we're here because of the rumours that there is a magical artefact hidden here. While you could help us find it, we could protect you from this evil lord and we promise to help you find a way to leave this place." William suggested after listening to your pitiful plight.

"I did think of leaving as a last resort, but this is where I grew up, and I lost my brother at a young age, if I leave, my brother would not be able to find me if he comes back.. He's the only family I have left."

"We promise to help you, so you could stay in your rightful homeland." Fuegoleon smiled at the lady before him, her beauty was dazzling, but she resembled someone he couldn't quite put a finger on..

"We haven't got your name, by the way." Nozel nodded at the alluring lady before him, "I'm Nozel and they are William, Fuegoleon and Yami."

"Ah, Yami, you have the same name as my brother." you smiled at Yami elegantly.

The four man paused in silence as the 3 of them stared at Yami, who stopped in his tracks, eyes widened at the lady before him.

"And your name is...?" he spoke softly, his tone was eager yet afraid.

It couldn't be. He thought to himself. What are the odds? Why didn't he think of it? Her familiar ki, her face, she resembled..

"Y/n,"

Yami's lips parted but no words came out. It was impossible. He was never lucky in his life. His life was just full of a series of unfortunate events and-

"Y/n Sukehiro."

Fuego, Nozel and William knew immediately that she was actually Yami's sister. Their minds were blown; Yami had been searching for his family only for her to be right in front of them all along!

They turned to Yami, whose face was wearing such a wide smile, but his eyes were clouded with tears. He was so stupefied that his brain malfunctioned for a moment, unable to process the happiness that he was feeling; the happiness of finding your loved one after 20 years of being apart, not knowing how they were, whether they were dead or alive, just holding on to that thin thread of hope, hoping that you would meet again someday.

Yami felt like his legs were not going to take his weight, his tongue was already unable to speak but his arms acted on their own, reaching out and pulling the girl in front of him into an embrace.

"A-are you okay, Yami?" you squeaked at you felt like the air was being squeezed out of your chest from his huge biceps.

"Miss Sukehiro," William smiled with such a warm and joyful smile, "His name is Yami Sukehiro, he's from Hino too."

Your reaction was the exact same as your brother. Silent with widened eyes, mouth agape as you felt your nose sour and your vision clouded with tears.

You started sobbing as the landslide of emotions crashed upon you. The dam of 20 years was broken; your tears couldn't stop flowing and your chest felt so tight. You grabbed onto the back of his shirt pulling his as close to you as ever possible.

------

After what seemed like an eternity, you both finally pulled back and had a good look at each other.

"how have you been, Y/n?" your brother's eyes were red, "I heard about mom and dad from the neighbours.. what happened?"

Yami felt the grieve that he had been burying deep in his chest rising to the surface again.

You took a deep breath and exhaled, knowing that you both had so much to talk about, "Why not we head to my place and we can talk over dinner?"

You both looked towards the other 3 gentlemen, waiting for their response.

"We're actually here to find an artefact..." Nozel spoke up.

"Yeah he's the party pooper," Yami shrugged, "But he's not wrong, I am here for work.."

"But I'm sure the king would understand.." William nodded, "let us call him and report on this and maybe Yami would take an off from the mission to catch up with his family. Afterall he's lost her for 20 over years.."

"I have to agree on this one," Fuegoleon said, "anyway it's getting dark and we need a place to stay. Let the siblings catch up and we will continue our search tomorrow. We could use an extra help anyway and y/n is local so she would be helpful."

----

Over dinner, the other 3 captains helped themselves to the food while you and Yami caught up with each other. He told you how he was swept away to Clover Kingdom and was part of their army called Magic Knights, his team was called the Black Bulls....

You told him about how mom and dad passed and how your siblings moved out in pursue of their jobs and careers or family and lost contact after the great war of Hino.

You didn't want to leave because you thought there should be someone left behind to clean your parents grave and also if there was a chance that Yami would return.

You really thanked the heavens that you did; you were eternally grateful that you could be reunited and at least know that your brother was well and alive. You couldn't wait to bring him to see your parents and tell them of the good news. They would be smiling from up in the heavens.

As you both stared at the night sky above your heads, you told your brother: "the number of times I stared into the dark night sky, hoping you were somewhere out there and looking at the same sky as me... tell me this isn't all just a dream.."

His huge arm wrapped around your shoulders, "it's not. And now that I'm here, I'll be sure to protect you from anyone that tries to bully you. I can't wait to punch that Kaho dude in the face..."

You both laughed. Those lonely and quiet nights would now be lively and filled with warmth forever.

-end-

[luveline]

a special friend, part nine | fred weasley x reader

summary you buy Fred too many biscuits, tell him some uncomfortable truths, and try to make sense of how much you love him [8k]

warmings fluff, hurt/comfort, mental health issues, implied/referenced self-harm, self-harm is talked about in depth but there is no graphic description of the act itself, body image, talk of sex but nothing graphic, she/her pronouns used for reader, fem reader

chapter list here

"You don't have to do those," Fred says from the table, a biro in hand. 

You take the washing up liquid into your hands and pour it onto the rough green scrub of a sponge, stomach pressing into the lip of the countertop. "It's okay." 

"I'll do them after I finish this," he says anyway. 

"Please let me do them." 

Fred bites the end of his pen – which you've warned him against doing, lest it explode in his mouth – and raises his eyebrows without looking up. You take that for a go ahead. 

The water is blisteringly hot. You pull down the shutter on the boiler next to the sink and set the heat lower though it won't make much difference now. 

Your hands start to sting, but it's a sting you like. It's familiar. It hurts. 

Fred hums under his breath at the table. He's a diligent book keeper. You're too stupid for it, and he'd never let you anyways. You're surprised he's let you do the dishes, hadn't said, Ghost, no. Go watch your show.

He goes through phases. Sometimes, it's as though he doesn't want you to do anything at all. It gets to the point where every time you shower he's offering to wash your hair. 

When you'd asked George about it, he'd only said, "He loves you." 

"I know that." 

"I don't know what you want me to tell you." 

What did you want George to tell you? Maybe that it's something every boy does.  

But no, you don't think so. You're just lucky. 

Eventually Fred seems to realise what he's doing and gives it a rest. Like now, a few days ago he might've taken the sponge from your hand, kissed your head and bumped your hip to get you to go sit down. But you're very much in the after of his over-caring, so he doesn't protest. 

Plus, when you say please, Fred's always been a total goner. That hasn't changed. 

"Are you-" You cringe as a plate clinks against another cruelly. "Are you getting on okay with the pens?" you ask, looking over your shoulder. 

Fred grins at you. "What do you think it says about wizards that we have to refill our quill nibs every ten seconds? All that mess and time wasted when muggles were using these ten years ago."

"I think…" You set the last dish on the drying rack. "It says we're misguided. Like a self-inking quill," you say slowly. 

Your thoughts have felt thick as molasses all day, and you turn back to the sink to try and finish the dishes and feel abruptly weird. Not upset, but a sinking feeling.

"Like a self-inking quill," you repeat, hoping to catch the thread. 

"We invented a charm before we even thought about something as simple and convenient as a pen," Fred says, saving you. 

"Yeah, exactly." He always knows what you're trying to say. 

You shut off the tap and watch the water drain down the sink. Your hands are wet and very warm against the countertops edge. 

"Come and sit with me," Fred says lightly. 

You blink hard, wipe your face with your wet hands and exhale. 

"Are you-" 

"I think I want something else to eat," you say. 

Fred is quiet. You turn to him and he's smiling at you, pen flat on the table. "Yeah? Dessert?" 

"Yes, please." 

"Alright." He sounds legitimately excited. 

Fred gathers his papers and slides them between the leaves of his fancy leather planner before standing and meeting you in the middle of the kitchen. His hand reaches for you unconsciously, squeezing your shoulder and encouraging you toward the cupboard. 

"What do you fancy?" he asks, opening the cupboard. It's not bare but certainly not full. 

Your options are pretty lackluster. He has tins of sweetened fruit, condensed milk, rice pudding. He even has a tin of tapioca, but none of it looks very exciting.

"Do you even like tapioca?" you ask. 

"No, I don't." He hums unhappily. "I'm embarrassed." 

"We could go to the shop." 

"At this time? Would anything be open?" 

"Tesco's." 

He looks down at you with obvious fondness. "Tesco. What is that, a type of dog?" 

You leave to search his bedroom for something to wear that isn't your pajama bottoms. "Freddie," you murmur, picking through the clothes you keep at the bottom of his cupboard, "have you seen my skirt? The paisley one?" 

"Is it the purple one?" 

"Yeah. Like a red-purple." 

He disappears and returns with an armful of clothes from the radiator, dumping it unceremoniously on the end of the and pulling out your skirt with a triumphant smile. "Here. I like this one. I remember the first time you wore it." 

"You do?" 

"Yeah, of course I do. You don't?" 

You nibble the inside of your lip and sit down on the bed to pull on a pair of tights. Fred's gaze wanders to your thigh. You watch his expression change from happy to nothing to happy again. 

You stand up to put on your skirt. "No, I can't remember," you say apologetically. 

"The first time we kissed, you were wearing that skirt." 

That seems as appropriate a time you're going to get to ask for a kiss. You sidle up to him and he looks down at you knowingly, reaching out for your shoulders. Long, kind hands fit over the slopes of them. 

"You know you… you really confused me," you tell him. 

He throws his arms completely over your shoulders and pulls your chest to his. "When?" 

"That day. Our first day." 

His lips quirk up into a cheeky smile. "Right." He leans down for a short kiss, perfectly chaste. "How did I confuse you? I promise I didn't mean to," he says softly. 

"You- you said our relationship wouldn't be-" 

"Appropriate," he says, again so softly. His smile is sympathetic. "Yeah, I remember. I remember. God, I'm sorry. It was a bad attempt at flirting." 

"It worked." 

"I wanted to follow you as soon as I said it, but you didn't seem like you cared. When I did follow you I was worried I got all the signs wrong, I could barely speak." 

He's relaxed despite the anxiety of the situation he recalls – it had been the most heart-racing half-hour of your life. You would love to think he'd felt the same. But now there's the vast proof of your affection for each other. All that hesitation is funny to look back on. 

"Why were you worried, Freddie? I mean," you giggle self-consciously, "I was obvious, wasn't I?" 

"No you were not."

You wait for him to expand, confused. 

"You were especially hard to read. You're still hard to read now, only I've gotten better at it. Or that's what I'd like to think." 

"Oh." 

Fred cups your cheek. "You think you're obvious?" 

"I thought so. I thought you could tell that I liked you." 

He holds your head in place and kisses the opposite cheek, a perfect press of his lips. 

He rubs your cheek and then moves away to pull on one of his mum-made jumpers, offering you your cardigan. 

"I couldn't tell. I mean, we'd been friends for so long at that point I assumed all your affection was just friendly, and you kept surprising me." He smiles like this is the best thing in the world, that being surprised might mean the same thing as winning the lottery. "You looked lovely. You knew you looked lovely." 

You try not to feel embarrassed. Taking pride in your appearance is still new, and it feels like something you shouldn't do. Like you're not allowed.

"You're pretty," he says simply. "And when you know it, you get this glow." 

"I do not." 

"You do!" 

"Like a pregnant woman?" 

He laughs. You push your slippery feet into your shoes. "No, dummy. Not like a pregnant woman. Are you ready?" 

"Do you know where the Tesco's is?" you ask curiously, taking his outstretched hand. He squeezes your fingers. His touch keeps the creeping anxious nausea of side-along disapparation at bay. 

"I was just gonna go to the town centre, by the charity shop. Where you bought that nice dress." 

"You bought the dress. I only wore it." 

He smiles. "You okay?" 

You nod and squeeze his fingers in turn. 

Suddenly you're slammed between places, knees buckling as your feet slide from the worn light wood of the Weasley flat and onto the uneven tar of an alleyway. It's bitingly cold and the alley is dark, streetlight leeching toward you both but not quite reaching. 

Fred checks you over silently. 

"It's cold," he complains immediately afterward, pulling you down the alley and onto the main street. 

It's as blinding as it always is. You let him steer you down the pavement, through couples and commuters. You almost bump head on with a girl wearing big huge headphones that you've never seen in person before, and you can't help following her with your eyes. 

"Tesco is the blue one?" Fred asks. 

"It's a small one here. By the pharmacy." 

"Where was that?" 

It takes you an abundance of long cold minutes to locate the shop you're looking for, and when you do Fred marches you inside. You stand just past the automatic doors and he steals your hands to rub between his own, fretting about how chilly it is today and how neither of you had worn a coat, and maybe he can buy you one. 

"I don't need a new coat. Can we go look at the fruit?"

It's impossible to find. You walk down skinny aisles of tinned foods, cold drinks, crisps. 

Fred grabs the end of your cardigan and anchors you to him. "Hey, biscuits." 

There's a lot of biscuits. 

"What ones should we get?" 

You move next to him until your thighs are touching, to his evident delight. He throws an arm over your shoulder and gives you another nice kiss on your cheek. "How about we get all of them?" 

"We can't get all of them." 

"How about just all the ones we like?" he asks hopefully.

You think about your purse in your pocket, how you never spend money on yourself. If Fred wants biscuits, he should have as many as he wants. 

You lift your head toward his and grin. "Yeah, okay." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah," you laugh, "go get a basket, loverboy." 

His turn to laugh. His hand drags over your shoulders as he pulls away, and you stand alone in the aisle and wait for him to come back. There's so many biscuits. Cookies with white chocolate chips and dried raspberries, hobnobs with caramel centres, jammy dodgers, jaffa cakes, Welsh shortbreads. There's classic digestives, rich teas and even the fancier Border's biscuits, the ones you only see at Christmas time. 

"Hey gorgeous," Fred calls as he returns. 

"Hey," you say gently. 

"Did you choose any?" 

You only hesitate for a moment before picking up the Border's and placing them delicately in the basket. Fred beams but doesn't comment. You refuse to think about anything as you pick up the shortbread, plain and chocolate chip.  

"Nice," he says. Fred picks up the jaffa cakes with an assessing eye. 

"You've never seen them before?" 

"Don't think so. Do you like them?" 

You shrug. No matter your answer, you don't want to discourage him from trying them. "They have orange jam in the middle. You'll like them." 

He nods and puts them in the basket. He goes to keep you moving and you plant yourself. 

"Fred, you gotta pick some more."

"I like what we have." 

"Fred-" 

"I'm gonna buy you your weight in chocolate, ghost. We have enough biscuits." 

You don't let him buy as much chocolate as he'd promised. He picks out a tray of truffles. You kneel down and search through the children's sweeties and find a bag of white chocolate buttons covered in sprinkles.

"Freddie," you say, thrilled, "have you had these before?" 

He bends down to meet you. You must look strange, two grown adults crouched in the middle of the shop, but neither of you has the wherewithal to care. It's often like this with him. You exist in your own world. 

"Don't think so," he says, taking them with his usual gentleness and dropping them onto your growing pile of treats. 

"I used to love them." 

"I bet they're amazing," he says earnestly. "These sweets are all literally covered in sugar. Sugar's supposed to go inside them, not on them." 

You select some of the aforementioned sugar covered sweets and drop them in. "They're sour." 

"Me and George gave Ron an Hour Sour once that we'd charmed to last three days." 

You gawp at him. 

"Don't look at me like that." 

"Did he-"

"Cry? For most of the second day." 

You're suddenly seeing him in a new light. "That's awful." 

"We felt really bad. Genuinely." 

He helps you back up to your feet. 

"Did you lay off him for a while?"

"A whole week." 

"Awful! That's awful. You're such bullies." 

There's not a trace of genuineness in what you're saying. Fred is the nicest person you've ever met in your entire life, and George is the second. 

"I know," he murmurs, eyes on the label of a whistle lolly. "How's it a whistle?" 

"It just is." 

He's stricken. "But how?" 

"You'll have to find out." You chuck two in the basket. 

"We need to find your fruit. And a real dessert." 

Fruits are found. Desserts contemplated. You end up with a tub of neapolitan ice cream and a cake to heat up in the oven. 

You slide the basket off of Fred's arm and pretend to look very cold. There's no way a shop this small will have clothes, but Fred has no way of knowing that. 

"Do you…" You put on your best act. If you just all out asked for something Fred would never believe you. "Do you think they have coats here?" 

"Let's go look," he says quickly, nodding his head to the side. 

You part your lips as if thinking about it and then shake your head. "My legs are tired. We should go home." 

Conflicted, he calculates his options and then picks the one you'd known he would, the chivalrous, much too thoughtful one.  

"I'll find you something. You can wait here, alright?" 

He leaves, his smile charged with promise. As soon as he's disappeared in the direction of the cleaning and bathroom supplies you turn to the tills and pay for all your stuff. There's so many things that you need two bags. 

Fred appears a little while later, at first apologetic and then unhappy. 

"Did you just pay for that?" 

"I didn't steal it," you say wryly. 

He wrangles the bags out of your unwilling hands and sighs. "They didn't have any jackets, sweetheart, I'm sorry. You can have my jumper." 

"I'm not really cold. Sorry." 

He squints. You squint back. 

"You sneak," he says finally. 

You spin on your heel so you're walking backwards and he follows you out of the shop. "Good trick, right?" 

"Good trick," he agrees. 

You laugh. It feels good in the cold air, with him, to let your head dip back just a touch and look up at the sky. There's too much light pollution to see any stars, but the sky is pitch black. You could fall into it. 

-

George Weasley bursts into his brother's bedroom and launches himself on top of him. 

Fred seizes up and forces his face further into his pillow. "Ow, ghost." 

"In what world would Y/N ever do anything like this?" 

Fred frowns with his eyes closed, grows incredibly still and then turns his body onto the side. George slides off of the bed and onto the floor with a terrible thump. 

"You fucking prick." 

"Shut up." 

George pouts on the ground for a moment before rising into a sitting position. Directly in his eyeline is a photograph of said ghost, smiling and posing with more life than George has ever seen you display in front of a camera. 

"Where is ghostie?" 

"She's went home." 

"She lives here." 

"She does not live here," Fred grumbles unhappily. 

"Oh, sorry. I just thought, from the state she left the living room in last night that she was paying rent." 

"Fuck off," Fred says with no heat. "Be nice. It was mostly me." 

"Where was my invite?" 

"I was hoping something would transpire that you'd rather not be involved in." Fred doesn't sound bitter. He sounds strangely upset. 

George tilts his head to the side. "Disgusting. Still should've invited me." 

"There's cake left." 

George stands and leaves for the kitchen. He eats the leftover cake cold, a winner's breakfast if he does say so himself, and pops the kettle on. His twin soon emerges, unhappy and still obviously tired. 

"Your hair's too long," George says.

"She likes it like this." 

George licks his fingers clean of icing and opens the cupboard for two mugs. "Ghost would like you bald, I think. Love makes you blind. And plain stupid." 

"Angelina wouldn't like you bald." 

"Angelina has self-preservation. Is tea okay or are you dying?" 

Fred waves his hand. "Anything. Whatever you're having." 

Quite right. George makes two identical cups of tea and plants them on the kitchen table. He offers Fred a small spoon to fish out the tea bag and retrieves the milk from the fridge. 

"Why did she go home?" 

"She can't always stay here. It's not healthy." 

"Sure it is. Married people sleep together every single day." 

Fred drinks his tea, winces at how hot it is and then sets it down. "There's loads of biscuits in the cupboard." 

George raises his eyebrows and goes to look. "Oh, yes. This is more like it. More obscene spoiling?"

"Y/N spoiling me." 

"No way! She never buys me anything." 

George tips enough biscuits for a family five onto a plate and places them grandly at the table. He must've eaten half in the time it takes Fred to wake up, and when he does he doesn't seem happy. 

"Listen," George says slowly, "if there's something you wanna talk about, I'll try not to laugh. Swears." 

"How generous of you." 

George knows what's wrong, he just doesn't want to say it out loud. 

"Does it happen with you and Angelina? Um. Dry spells?" Fred asks eventually. 

"All the time. Girls are different, mate. They're not always on."  

"What if she thinks I'm ugly?" 

"I've always been the more handsome of us." 

They both laugh at their joking. 

Fred eats a biscuit forlornly. "I read this thing," he says slowly. 

"Now why would you do that?" George asks. He means it. He's told Fred a hundred times to ignore all the magazine's and muggle health journals. 

"About low moods. Affecting your sex drive." 

George wrinkles his nose. 

"She's never… we've never not been on the same page about it. And I know if she's upset about something she won't tell me, so I thought maybe she's upset and not telling me and that's why she doesn't want to-" He shrugs rather than say it. George is grateful. He doesn't ever want to hear about his brothers sex life. 

"You were having your honeymoon phase," he says simply. It makes sense. Eventually, the newness wears away, though the fondness remains. 

Fred drops his face into his hand. "I was worried you'd say that." 

"Don't make me spell it out for you, Forge. I really don't want to. It feels like talking about Ginny's sex life with Harry." 

"You talk about-" 

"No." 

"I think maybe I'm being very narcissistic." 

"You definitely are." 

Fred rubs his eyes with both hands. "She's getting into her head again." 

This catches George's attention. Perhaps he doesn't always know what Fred's thinking. He puts his tea down heavily and asks, "What?" 

"I'm worried she'll start all the picking and things." Things is a very nice way to say that you'd been hurting yourself. George doesn't blame him for avoiding the specifics. It's never a nice thing to say out loud. 

He breaks a biscuit in half, dropping half in his mug and half in Fred's to soften. "Are you alright?" 

Fred scrunches up his face. "What?" 

"Are you okay?" 

"What?" 

"Fred." 

They stare at each other. Fred looks very stressed. George hates it. 

"Ghost isn't going to start hurting herself again. I don't know why you're thinking about it, but that's not happening," George says, sympathetic but firm. "It's been a while since she did. It's been almost as long since she wanted to. She told you last time, yeah?" 

And you had. It had been a bit of a shock to George when he'd heard it, though it was his own fault for eavesdropping. Fred had been stationed at the front of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes peddling the last of the Peruvian darkness powder and George had been a ways away feeding the pygmy puffs. 

You'd been taking it easy behind the counter top at the back. Quiet for a few days, nothing they hadn't been through with you before, your mood wavering. Your footsteps had been close to silent as you'd made your way to the front and stopped at Fred's side. There had been silence for a while, and then he'd seemingly noticed you and said, "Hey. What's the matter?" 

George had glanced up. You'd looked impassive in the face but frenetic in the hands, your fingers curling and unfurling around nothing. 

"Freddie," you'd said, very softly. 

George had wanted to wrap you up in a hug then and there but Fred's more of a problem solver, though he'd softened to match you considerably quickly. 

"What?" he'd asked. 

You'd thrust your hands towards him and he'd taken them delicately. 

After a while, you'd said, "I don't feel very well." 

"Yeah? What's the matter?" 

"I think I want to-" You'd looked down at the floor. "I think I might do something stupid." 

"Okay," Fred had said. "Okay. Why don't we go upstairs and I'll make you some tea? We'll talk about it." 

"Right," Fred says now. "It's been a while, but that doesn't mean she'll never do it again." 

"If she does or she doesn't, it's okay. We can deal with it. I know it fucking sucks, Freddie, but she'll be fine. She always is."

They must have had a hundred conversations about you by now. Not always serious, and never in anything but a loving light. George thinks back to your time at school together when conversations about you had been often, and then your time at school without them, where Fred had talked about you more than anything else. 

"Are you okay?" 

Fred bites his lip. "Or course I am." 

"It's a lot to worry about." 

"This is really awkward." 

"Since when? We talk about everything." 

"Not my feelings." 

"Shut up," George says, standing up to ruffle Fred's awfully long hair. "Seriously. I would do anything for Y/N, but I would do double for you. You have to tell me if you can't handle it." 

That pisses Fred off to no end. He's defensive instantly. "She's not something to be handled." 

George glares at him. "Did I say her? It. If you can't handle it." He hadn't meant you. You're not a problem to be handled. You're a person, and the things that hurt you tend to hurt his brother too. George just wants to support him, and you, through the worst of it when he's needed. 

Fred stands up to join him at the sink. "Why did you put a biscuit in my tea?" he mutters crossly. 

"Hardly the worst I could've done." 

"Pathetic excuse for a prank. We need to get back into practice." 

"It wasn't a prank, Fred," George says, chuckling. "I thought you were going to eat it." 

"I didn't notice you put it in to eat it." 

George shrugs. "Shows how perceptive you are. Ghost is fine. You're fine?" When Fred nods, he continues, "You're fine. I'm great, I'm moving out." 

Fred takes a long time to catch on. "You're what?" 

-

You sleep in on Monday and have a heart attack when you wake. 

It's already nine in the morning. You should've been at the shop hours ago, and Fred's gonna have to open by himself because George- 

George is at Angelina's, because it's a national holiday.

You relax and drop back into the sheets. Your bed has never been as comfortable as Fred's, though maybe that's the lack of him rather than any mattress differences. You turn onto your side and smile at the picture of him on your nightstand. He moves, a darling smile stretching over his face and his hand twitching out toward you. He looks about as in love with you as you are with him. 

You kiss your fingertip and press it to his face.  

You miss him. It's only been two days. It feels like two weeks. 

Lately, you've been rejecting Fred's advances. Kisses end at kisses, cuddles stay cuddles. He hasn't said anything about it and neither have you. It's hard to explain. You've felt very heavy on the inside, and so you feel disgusting on the outside. Your sense of self is precarious at best and troublesome at worst: it can't withstand how you feel.

But. You love him. He's very handsome, and he's very nice in bed. 

You miss being close to him like that. 

With a plan, you shower and scrub down every inch of your body, cover yourself in nice smelling moisturisers and oils until your skin is soft to touch, and dab some concealer over the slight bags under your eyes and the worst of your scars.

You know Fred looks at them, sometimes. 

You wear a sweet blue dress that you know he likes and pull on a thick pair of wool tights, and then you apparate into the flat. 

There's no point bothering with shoes. You won't need them. 

"Freddie?" you say. 

Nothing. There's no washing machine whirring, no TV humming sound. Not even the faint gurgling of the boiler. The flat is appropriately cold. 

You stop at the thermostat on the way to his bedroom and turn it all the way up. Your feet slide over the chilled slats of the wooden floor and you almost slip outside of his room, giggling to yourself as you push open his bedroom door. 

He's asleep on his stomach. 

Selfishly, you'd like to wake him up. You crave his compliments, his affection worse, but he looks really lovely like this. You do as you'd done what feels like a hundred years ago now and climb over his hips, cautious not to rouse him, and settle in the space between his sleeping body and the wall on knees. 

You drop your hand onto his back. The quilt has fallen to below his shoulders. He's shirtless, the pale stretch of his upper back adorned in dark freckles and fine blonde hairs. 

He's warm. You steal as much of his warmth as you can, leaning down to kiss his freckles, the scarcest brush of your lips across his shoulders, and stroke the hair away from his neck as you do. You follow a path up and around to just under his ear. 

He comes to life like a flower blooming at day break. His limbs loosen and stretch outward. You massage his shoulder where it rises under your hand. 

"Y/N?" he murmurs. 

"Yeah, it's me." 

Impossibly, this puts him further at ease. 

You rub your nose against his neck. His breath catches and you laugh at the sound. "I missed you," you confess.

This garners his attention properly. 

He pushes himself up. "Baby," he says, blinking at you. "You look pretty." 

It's exactly what you'd wanted him to say and you'd been hoping he'd say it, but his praise still shocks you into silence. He says it so genuinely. 

You're about to thank him when he continues, "You're lovely. Look at you," he says. Even tired –  rough and croaky with sleep – his voice drips affection. 

You place your hands in your lap and bite back what's likely the most lovesick smile any girl has ever smiled. "Thank you." 

He leans over to take your hands. "You're beautiful. I promise I'm gonna kiss you like I mean it, just let me brush my teeth." 

You nod excitedly. 

He stands, wobbles, laughs at himself and carries on out of the bedroom and away to the bathroom.

You call after him, "What happened?"

"Got up too quickly. Sweetheart, it's not our anniversary, is it?" 

You laugh and lay down in the warm space he'd left behind. "What do you mean?" you ask, heartbroken. "You forgot?" 

"Funny." 

He laughs. You consider taking off your tights and then decide that's definitely too forward. There's no real signs that he actually wants to mess around just yet, and it is rather early. 

He appears suddenly and smelling of mint, face shining with dampness. "Yeah, that's exactly where I want you. Stay there." 

You stay. 

Fred shrugs into a new t-shirt (slightly disappointing, but you're sure you can persuade him out of it in time) and then makes his way to you, pressing his knee between your legs. He's less careful than he could be as he lowers his weight onto you completely.

You huff and giggle at the newfound pressure. 

He takes the time to get comfortable, legs between your legs. You're conscious of every contiguity you share as his elbow digs into the space between your upper arm and your chest and his hand drops to your face. He looks much more awake now, brown eyes wide and trained down on you, unflinching.

His hand falls to your cheek. He has really nice hands, sharp-boned knuckles and trimmed neat nails. The bottom of his palm and the tips of his fingers warm your skin. 

"I can't believe how pretty you are." He ducks down and kisses you. You aren't expecting it and you don't have time to respond as he pulls back and says, "I love you." 

Your chest feels fit to burst. "I love you too." 

"I know," he says, almost whispers. He takes another unsuspecting kiss. "But I love you more." 

"Stop moving when I try to kiss back," you complain. 

He steals another kiss to spite you. 

You look up at him and he looks down at you. His fingers ghost down the side of your face lightly.

"I love you more," you argue quietly. 

"That could never be true." 

"You wouldn't think so." 

He marks a line of three quick kisses from the corner of your mouth to the space under your jaw where he stays, arms needling under your neck in a sudden, sweet hug.

He drops his face beside yours and holds you. 

"I missed you. Was everything okay?" 

"Yeah. It was fine. We just watched movies and stuff." 

He hums. "Did you have a good time?" 

"I missed you, but I did." 

"And you're feeling good today?" 

You don't want him to worry that much about you. "Yeah. Feeling great, handsome. Just missed you." You turn your face to his. "Missed you," you murmur. 

You breathe one another in for a stretch of time, eyes shuttered closed. 

"I'm gonna fall asleep on you, you're so comfortable," Fred says. 

You tighten your arms where you've wrapped them around his waist. "That's okay." 

Another gap of loving quietude. 

"Ghost, can I ask you something?" 

Your heart stutters. "Yeah, ask me anything." 

He nods and his nose whispers against your cheek. 

The distinct smell of toothpaste lingers between you. You open your eyes and find it, the tiniest hint of white at the corner of his mouth. It's a struggle but you manage to pull your arm between your two bodies and wipe it away. 

"Toothpaste," you explain. 

"Thank you… Baby, are you happy?" 

"Of course I'm happy. You're the best thing that ever happened to me." 

His smile squints his eyes. "But are you happy? Are you having a bad time again?" 

"No, Fred, I'm-" 

"It's okay if you are. It's okay. I just need to know. I need you to tell me." 

"I'm fine, baby," you say, pleading. You clear your throat. "I'm fine." 

He rolls his weight off of you. You worry he's annoyed, that he's seen straight through you and knows you're a liar. 

Fred doesn't look mad. There's only patience. 

"I want to know how you're feeling," he says, each word as careful and tedious as a string of silk. "Because I want to be with you while you're feeling it. I think about you being sad by yourself and it kills me. You know?" 

"Yeah, I do," you murmur. 

He casts his eyes away from the ceiling and back to your worried face. 

"I haven't been feeling very well," you admit. If it's this important to him to know, then you'll try to be as honest as you can be. 

You turn onto your side and he mirrors you, two halves of the same heart, a mess of rumpled sheets between you, and reach out to stroke down the length of his cheek. He doesn't seem surprised by your admission.

"I've wanted to hurt myself a lot lately," you continue. You can barely force the words out, your mouth suddenly dry as a cotton ball. 

"Why won't you tell me?" he asks. There's a real heartbreak there, laid underneath his dulcet, comforting tenor. "I don't want you to think about that by yourself." 

"If I was really going to do something, I would tell you. I swear, Freddie. But I'm not." You think about the kind of honesty he's asking you for. "I don't think I will," you add, uncertain. 

His eyes flit to your chest. He's not really looking at you so much as looking through you, thinking. 

He smooths down the skirt of your dress absent-mindedly. "I'd like to know if you're thinking about it." 

"Do you get why that would be hard for me?" 

Fred looks at you properly. 

"I feel like- like such an attention seeker as it is," you say with an edge of bitterness.

"You're not." 

"But that's what it does. It forces you to watch me, and look after me, and worry about me." 

"It doesn't, ghost. I've never been forced to do any of those things. I love you." He takes your hand with purpose. 

"I know. Do you know what I mean?" You're begging him internally to understand. 

Your whole life you've found ways to hurt yourself. Your whole life you've been looked down on for it. You hate that people think they know why you do it, that they could understand it from just one look, and that they think their attention of all things would make a difference. 

"You're not an attention seeker." A crease appears between his brows. 

"What if I am?" you ask, and hide your face in his pillow. What if you've gotten so good at rationalising it that you're lying to yourself? 

"I don't believe that for a second," Fred says. He tugs your body towards his, arms curling around you in a steadying hug.

He peppers kisses across your forehead and then dips his nose against the skin by your hairline, murmuring, "Ghost, why'd you have to punish yourself for everything? Even the things you haven't done? Hurting yourself– I don't understand it. I don't, and I'm not sure I will, but I understand you." He kisses your head again. "I would never hold it against you. I would never think it was for attention, and if it was I wouldn't care.

"I'm asking you to tell me because I want to hold your hand through it, that's all." 

"What if it's too much?" You're starting to feel a little bit numb. 

"It won't be. You've never been too much." 

You flatten your hand over his chest and breathe until your heart has stopped pounding. It takes a while. Fred hugs you all the way through it. 

"I came here trying to seduce you," you say finally, laughing in hopes to soften the serious mood. 

"It's insulting to me that you think I don't know that," Fred says, smirking. "I know your charms, lovely girl. Give me another kiss." 

You lift your chin, lips tickled by his hot breath. He kisses you slowly, so slowly, hand spreading over your shoulder and pulling you tighter against him. Your lips are burning by the time he encourages them apart. 

You sigh into him. Everything feels better, even if it isn't fixed. He's a surefire balm over all your aching. 

"Are you okay?" he asks gently. 

"I'll tell you," you say, too shy to look at him. If I'm feeling awful. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

He tries to kiss you some more but the guilt fizzes and you dodge him, pressing your lips to his cupid's bow.

"I'm sorry." 

"Stop it," he says with a quiet fierceness. "I don't need that." 

He kisses you. You love to be kissed. You let him touch you and steady you, let the unyielding wave of his fondness for you wash over your worrying. Hurting yourself – and the want to hurt yourself – can take up a lot of your life, and it can feel all encompassing, but it isn't. 

It can be really, really small. The life you've made, and the person you share it with, has made it smaller. Made it a detail. Like a crop of freckles, like a smattering of heavy-handed but undoubtedly healed scars across your outer thigh. They're there forever, but they're hardly the most important thing about you. 

It hits you like a freight train. 

You push Fred back very gently and sit over him. It's probably not your best angle but you don't care, taking his face into both of your hands. His cheeks are warm to the touch. His brown edging of lashes flutter as his eyes flick between your mouth and your own eyes, indecisive, curious. 

"I wish I could tell you," you say, thumbs brushing under the soft semi-circles of his under eye, "how I felt about you." 

He smiles in confusion. "Sweetheart, you tell me all the time." 

"'I love you' doesn't really cover it." 

He brings his own hands up to cradle your face. You laugh at him and squeeze his cheeks, the mess of your arms tangled and too close as he pulls you down, down. 

"I get it. Sometimes I look at you and I can't speak." 

"You've mentioned that," you say. You're trying for casual and sounding much too happy, not nearly as wry as you'd wanted. 

"It happens all the time." 

You want to pinch him and crawl away from him, scold him for teasing you, but you have the horrifying feeling that he's being honest, and if he is you're literally gonna have to kiss him until you die. 

"Fred," you whisper. 

He laughs softly and pulls you closer still. "I'm not kidding. I try to talk to you but I can't. It was worse when we were younger," he confides. 

"Really?" 

"I was hopeless. It was awful." 

"I couldn't really talk," you say. 

He stares at you open-mouthed and then bursts into laughter. "That's not funny," he says urgently.

You worm your hands behind his ears. "You're laughing." 

"You surprised me." 

"I mean, it was a little funny. I just never spoke-" 

"I'm glad you want to joke about it, but really, it's not funny," he says lightly, still laughing, "it was- well." Fred encourages your face to the side so he can kiss your cheek. "You've heard it all before. I love you. When you don't want to talk and when you do." He pouts at you. "Especially when you do," he adds, like it's a secret.

"Wait a minute. You've hijacked me." 

"Have I?" 

"Yes, you have! I was trying to love on you, and you-" 

"Love on me-" 

"-steamrolled over me, Fred." 

"Oh no." 

"Fred." 

"Alright, sorry," he says, dropping his head flat into the pillows and his hands to his chest. "Tell me how great I am." 

"You're amazing," you say earnestly, brushing all the hair back from his face. "So sweet and… so kind. Handsome." 

He laughs infectiously, the sound all sticky and low like he's been eating honey by the spoonful. 

"'Nd you're funny, sometimes," you add.

He curls his hands around your hip before abandoning that pursuit and pressing his hand flush into your abdomen and then upward. He stops a few inches from your chest and rubs a small, soothing back and forth. 

"People say that about me," he agrees. His delivery is lackluster, any bravado lost to what sounds like distraction. He looks up. "You're okay." 

"Yeah, I'm okay." 

Fred goes quiet. His eyes track over your face and you can't find it in you to break the silence. You think he might be having a moment, and it makes you wonder about all the stuff he thinks about when you're too busy in your own head. 

-

Although Fred has missed sex with you, you don't end up messing around. The opposite, your much-needed heart to heart has left the both of you similarly weak-limbed, and for hours you don't do anything but lie down together and talk. Most of the serious stuff out of the way, Fred picks your brain for the little things he's missed. 

You've been sad lately, you haven't talked as often, and though he'd never ever tell you, he has ached for the sound of your voice. To hear you mumbling about the shape of his nose, incensed over the rising price of milk, or even giggling giddily over his hands tickling the length of your arm, these are all things he would give anything for. 

You do remember eventually what you'd set out to do, and you say, "I really was trying to seduce you. I'm sorry we haven't, you know. Sorry I've-" 

"Hey," he says, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter."  

"I've missed it," you say, and then cover your face. "Oh."

"Have you?" he asks smugly, leaning down to rub his nose against the naked slip of skin below your ear. 

You move your hands and grin at him. "Freddie." 

It's imbued with a lot of meaning. He understands what you're saying. Not to be full of himself, but it's evident how much you like sleeping with him, he's not stupid. He likes it in equal amounts. 

"It's not because I don't want you, I just don't feel pretty," you say, and then wince. 

"You don't?" Fred doesn't give you time to answer. "How could you not think you're pretty? You're the prettiest girl on the planet. " His light-hearted tone hides his worry. 

Thankfully, you're in good spirits today and your mood doesn't drop. 

"I don't know. I think it's just how I've been feeling. 'Low moods affect your sex-drive,'" you quote, smiling sheepishly.

He laughs abruptly enough to startle you, thinking of what he'd said to George, those exact words. He loves you so much maybe your brains have started to merge. 

"Here I was worried you'd gone off me," he says. 

"What?" you ask shortly. "No! I just- it's only-" 

"You don't have to explain," he says, kissing your shoulder. "It really doesn't matter. I know you know how much I like it-" the effort it takes not to blush here is incredible, "but I'd also hope you know that it's never going to matter to me as much as how you're feeling does. Never." 

You groan and hide your face in the curve of his neck. Your answer vibrates against his skin, "Stop it. I don't want to have serious talks anymore. I feel like I'm on fire." 

"You are pretty hot," he says agreeably. 

"You're hotter." 

Then, in the straw that breaks the camel's back, you lick the tip of your finger, press it to his chest and make a hiss like boiling water.

"Oh my god," he says, hand cupping the back of your head. "Oh my god. I love you. I love you more than anything. Stop hiding, we need to kiss now." 

"I can't kiss you, you'll burn me."

"If it were the other way around, I'd kiss you. Just saying." 

"Hm," you hum sarcastically. 

He wraps his arm around you and pats your back. "We could never fuck again and it wouldn't matter," he continues his earlier point. 

"Enough," you groan. "Please, Fred." 

"I just want to make sure you know." 

"Consider it known." 

"Consider it known," he grumbles to himself. "Consider this known, doll, I'm gonna force you into serious, uncomfortable, excruciating talks about our feelings for the rest of our lives." 

He can feel your smile stretch over his neck. "The horror," you murmur. 

He thinks about asking you to move in. Fred had known as soon as George said he was moving out that he wanted to ask you to move in with him. It would be the next chapter of your lives. 

You say something too quiet to hear to hear into his skin. Fred would bet every bit of wealth he has that he knows what you said. He decides the conversation can wait for another day. 

He has some words of his own he wants to press into your skin. 

He mouths the first round against your forehead. "Love you too." 

[noxtivagus]

HWJFLFJFJNS

Anxiety

[carlsainz]

Hey, I love you writing! Can you write something about dating luke and you get in a fight and his brothers are there to comfort you and get mad at Luke and forcing him to apologize to you! Thanks 😊

that's so sweet, thank youuu <3 i love seeing there are people who enjoy the silly little things i write

this is not proofread

luke had been acting weird all day. he isolated himself and you just went to a boat ride with his brothers, since he was strange and refused to talk to you or anyone.

at night, after dinner, you, luke and his brothers were just chilling and stargazing when luke snapped in front of his brothersb.

"why didn't you tell me you and brendan have been a thing?"

"what?"

"you heard me," he said, sounding really mad.

"ok first of all, i didn't owe you any explanation of my previous dating life," you started. "and second, i never told you because it wasn't nothing special, it wasn't even a thing. we were just needy one night and that's it, you didn't even join umich when it happen."

he covered his eyes with his hand. "y/n we're friends, brendan and i. you should've told me!"

"why are you so worried about it? i'm with you now, not brendan."

"because i wish i knew! that's why," he got up from his adirondack. "i wish you had told me before i saw a picture of someone with you and brendan kissing in the background."

"luke hughes i won't say it again," you started, hard tone. "it was literally a year before i met you. what i did is none of your business, do you understand? are you seeing me throwing a tantrum about any of the girls you've kissed before me?"

"you could've shown some respect and told me, you know. now this is puck bunny behavior, don't you think? going from a friend to another?"

"what did you just say?" you asked, getting up too.

"you're not deaf, y/n. and what's the next thing, huh? cheating on me with one of my brothers?"

"ok guys this is not good so luke, you should go to your room breathe a little bit, this is only going to hurt you two."

luke just mumbled "whatever." and left, while you sat again, shocked that luke directed those words to you. it was just so cruel you couldn't even think straight.

"hey y/n, are you alright?" quinn asked, benting down in front of your chair.

"i- i don't think so," you stuttered. "q, he knows i would never do that and yet he said that."

"i know, i know, i'm so sorry for this, i'm sure he didn't mean it," quinn responded with a soothing voice.

"yeah, i think he was just mad and out of his mind," jack agreed.

quinn and jack stood up in front of you, jack saying "come here." you got up too and they hugged you very tightly, comforting you while you cried over luke's words. after some time just hugging, they released you and you wiped your tears, sniffing.

"thank you boys, i love you," you said. "guess i'll just sleep in one of the other spare rooms, can one of you get luke out of the bedroom so i can get my things please?"

"sure, he needs to hear some things too," quinn said. "just wait five minutes and them the room is free."

with that, they left the backyard and you were there, the words still haunting you.

meanwhile, the boys carried luke to quinn's bedroom so they could get some things clear to him.

"first of all, you're an asshole," jack started.

"yes, you are," quinn agreed. "you were a jerk to her and for what?"

"but she literally kissed and did god knows what with one of my best friends," luke protested.

"yeah, and so what? did she cheat on you?"

rolling his eyes, luke replied "well, no but-"

"but nothing, luke. she did nothing wrong and you can't say shit about it," quinn said. "now insinuate she would cheat on you with one of us was so cruel, you have no idea now but you'll regret it, probably for the rest of your life."

"god you're so idiot, i'm holding myself back from punching your stupid face right now," said jack.

"you two are making it sound so bad," luke commented.

"because it was bad, dude. are you dumb or what?"

luke sat down and started thinking about the things he had said. and he also said that was puck bunny behavior. god he was such an idiot.

"now go apologize to her," jack said.

"yeah, we know she has anxiety and this is terrible to her mind," quinn added.

"fuck me," luke mouthed and stood up. "where is she?"

"probably taking a shower or in some of the spare rooms."

"do the right thing now, hughes," quinn said.

closing the door behind him, luke started searching for you inside the bedrooms and found you in less than a minute. "baby?" he said after knocking on the door.

"go away."

"please, let me apologize."

"no luke, go away."

"at least hear me, please," he begged. "i didn't mean any of those things, i- i guess i'm just scared of losing you because i don't think i'm good enough for you or even pretty enough. nothing justifies what i said to you but i'm so sorry, i was just jealous and afraid of losing my girl."

you didn't say anything but he could hear you sniffling and that made him feel like the worst guy in the world.

"i will never say that again and never ever make you feel bad about things you did before we started dating, okay? i'm so sorry and i love you so much," he said.

you opened the door, making him feel even more guilty after seeing your red eyes. "you really meant that?"

"of course no, baby, i was just acting like an asshole and for that i am sorry."

you just kept quiet, looking into his eyes. the only thing you saw was truth, so you just sighed and hugged him, instantly feeling his arms around you. he started kissing your head, repeating i'm sorry between the kisses.

"please don't do that again," you begged.

"i won't, i promise."

you just stood there, hugging until you started yawning.

"we're fine but i really think we should sleep in separate rooms tonight."

he agreed because it was your will and you went to bed. however, he could feel the exact moment you laid down with him in the middle of the night and wrapped your arms around him.

[doctorslove]

Breathing Exercise

Summary: Just a little comfort fic. The Doctor tries to soothe your anxiety which has been really bad.

Tenth Doctor x Reader

Gender not specified for the reader

Words: 695

You look at the Doctor from the couch you're laying on. He's reading something while he's standing, resting his body on the wall. He looks so concentrated, it makes you wonder what he's reading about.

Maybe you should ask him to read it out loud. Maybe it would help your mind let go of all of the things that keep bothering it. Your anxiety has been so bad today that it has given you a headache. You keep thinking about little or big things over and over and over again. Worrying and coming up with scenarios...it's exhausting but it doesn't stop no matter how many times you have screamed inside your head “shut up”.

“Doctor?”

“Hm?” he says and lifts his head to look at you. You think about how cute he looks with his glasses on.

“Will you come sit with me for a bit?”

“Of course,” he replies, smiling sweetly at you. He moves closer, joining you on the couch, leaving the book he was reading, closed, next to him. “Is something wrong?”

“I'm not feeling very well,” you whisper.

“Sweetheart, come here,” he says softly and pulls you close to sit in his lap. He places his one hand on your back and with the other he cups your cheek. “Talk to me.”

Your eyes start to water. “My anxiety has been killing me today. It makes my head and stomach hurt. I can't make it stop, I'm so tired today. I feel like there is a weight on my chest all day today and it's making it hard to breathe.”

“Is it something specific that's been bothering you?”

“Nothing and everything at the same time.”

You feel his lips touching your forehead. “I'm so sorry, my love.” He runs his fingers through your hair and speaks again. “Would you like to try breathing with me? So we can slow down a bit?”

You nod and he gives you a reassuring smile in response.

“Okay then,” he says, rubbing your back. “Let's just start breathing together. Don't try to change your breath yet, just focus on how you're breathing right now and how you're feeling. No changes. We're just noticing.”

“Alright,” you reply.

Notice how you're feeling, huh? Well there is definitely chest pain. And stomach ache. You're feeling a little dizzy and your breathing is pretty fast.

After a bit the Doctor interrupts your thoughts.

“Let's try to slow down now. We'll breathe in from our noses, hold it, and then breathe out from our mouths. Got it?”

“Yes,” you try to smile as he takes your hand in his.

“Okay... Breathe in for: four...three...two...one,” he says looking straight into your eyes as you're taking a deep breath. “Now we hold it for: four...three...two...one...And now we breathe out from the mouth for: four...three...two...one...”

You blink slowly at him after your exhale and he kisses your cheek.

“That was so good, sweetheart, let's do it again.”

You repeat the breathing exercise again and again, until you start feeling better. You notice that your body has started to relax. The pain is almost gone from your stomach and your thoughts have transformed from worrying to just counting: four...three...two...one.

“Now this is the last one, breathe it out as a sigh.”

You look at him and you smile.

“Come on, make some noise,” he jokes and it makes you laugh, before you sigh deeply like he said.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“I think I do.”

“I'm so happy to hear that, love,” he says with what you think is the brightest smile in the world.

“Can you do me a favor?” you ask him.

“Anything in the world.”

“Will you read to me?”

“I'd love to, sweetheart,” he says and kisses your hand.

He grabs the book he was reading and opens it on the first page. He wants you to understand the story so he will start reading from the beginning. It's little things like that, that make you love him even more.

You rest your head on his chest and close your eyes; his soft voice starting to fill your ears.

Everything is going to be okay, you think.

[demonfamilytherapist]

Diavolo's lack of character progression is one of the main reasons I ignore the canon story. His flaws were easy to ignore at the start when his role wasn't so prevalent. But know? I can't engage in the story lessons because my MC would never tolerate such bullshit without snapping.

Oh, we're locked in a karaoke bar and forced to sing? And you're telling me THE PRINCE can't break the magic curse? Yeah no, I'm calling bullshit and using a pact to order brother to tear down the door.

Boogieman in the hotel? Again, you're the strongest demon out here it should take you a second to deal with that. I'm not traumatizing my boys even further.

Place at the Student Council? So I can see you even more? HAH! Fuck you.

And that's without touching any event stuff and lesson 16 with the whole "Your death is in the past let's celebrate my birthday!"

I try to be fair to all the characters, including ones I didn't like initially. But... Diavolo makes it hard for me. Also, it's super late and a frog won't shut up outside my house, so I apologise for any lack of coherency here.

I think as a character, Diavolo can be very interesting. I have a whole OC that exists to draw attention to his privileged and lonely life and also romance Levi I would like to see him get more genuine development, but it's tough when you've only got 20 chapters spread between 14 characters. As he is now though, I struggle to see his appeal as a romance option. I feel as though he has the potential to be a good leader and he genuinely seems to not want to hurt anyone, but... well, you know what they say about good intentions.

The karaoke incident seems like part of a larger writing issue where the powers of the demons (and angels) are generally pretty inconsistent. Diavolo can make an entire fake sun but can't break out of a karaoke room, Levi can't climb a wall or run 100m without getting winded but he presents a significant physical threat to us in early chapters, everyone is generally as strong or weak as the plot demands them to be.

But the bogeyman incident. I love Solomon but Solomon and Diavolo both got on my shit list for that one. MC was protected by Luke's blessing, but Asmo, Belphie, and Beel shouldn't have had to face their traumas/fears (also Asmo's being played for laughs kind of but... it's his very real insecurity) for the sake of our test. Satan at least had both Lucifer's and MC's support through his. It's weird that the one test that actually amounted to a real challenge was more of a challenge for our demons than us.

And the student council. What are we going to do? What is our actual role planned to be? Are we going to be another accessory member like... all the brothers but Lucifer, with no real voting power but random responsibilities? Are we expected to be another Diavolo yes-man?

I feel like throughout the whole story, Diavolo is shielded from consequences, especially by Barbatos. The first time he seemed to have a mistake shoved in his face was S2, where Lucifer suffered the consequences of Diavolo keeping secrets (Yes it wasn't directly Diavolo's fault, but if Diavolo had been more transparent from the start Lucifer could've helped out in the research or possibly recognised what was happening to him). In S3 he seems to sort of grow from it(?) and tries to get closer to some of the other brothers as a king and a friend (see: while the karaoke incident was a little BS, he did at least try to protect Levi and MC...). But it's quite inconsistent and in S4, it seems he's back to his old ways again, taking pictures of Lucifer in clothes he's quite clearly not comfortable wearing, ignoring all signs of how uncomfortable he is, and acting without consideration for others.

Of course, all the characters suffer from this to some extent. The issue with a seasonal otome game like Obey Me! is that the writers likely didn't know how many seasons they'd get when they started S1, and quite possibly still don't know how many seasons they'll get since the game is still quite popular. Diavolo I think just gets the worst of it.