#m: fics

[rekas-bitches]

This post has given me so many notifications that make me want to read these specific fanfictions, because...

Yes

I love, love, LOVE it when I can tell a fic author has integrated their specialized knowledge in a fic. I was reading a fic that at some point included the character going to visit an art therapist, and it's so clear that the author is an art therapist themself, and the details included are just immaculate and I love it. I've previously read about a character doing fencing for no other reason than the author clearly wanting to write a sport they understood. A character being given a hyperfixation on bugs just so the author can infodump themselves.

I eat it up every time, it brings such a smile to my face

[viviblack17]

Okay so I lost a dcxdp fic and unfortunately I only remember sooooo little

It's Danny taking the Nightingale as his last name and John Constantine recognise it but he has already promised he would try his best to lift the bloodline curse that the Fentons/nightingales have and he isn't happy about it

Danny might be drinking tea while talking to him. He might also be the ghost king but I do not remember.

Danny might also have like 85% of John soul and I'm pretty sure he gave it back

I also know that this conco was happening in Wayne Manor and everyone was trying to listen in but failed

Does anyone recognise this at all? Becs I have been looking all day and I can't for the life of me find it

[endursent]

WHAT IF astral express sunday would be too nervous to hold readers hand or hugging them bc his brain goes 💥 until he gets used to it and softens up to reader waa 🎉🎉

HES SO SILLY i want him to explode

【 content; sunday x reader , astral express sunday , fluff , character exploration, mild suggestiveness in one section , gn!reader 】

【 note; see sunday mention. NEURON ACTIVATED. i have neglected sunday writing for too long, it's time to sunday post more. 】

【 word count; 1.818 | read on ao3 | masterlist 】

Even after properly defining your relationship as “definitely happening”, Sunday still struggles to adjust to it—not because he doesn’t know what to do specifically, but because he fails to follow through with a lot of it. 

  As soon as he meets your eyes and feels the warmth of your skin at the same time, his brain halts in place like a deer caught in headlights—something about the affection and love in your gaze causes him to freeze, to hesitate and draw back. 

  He wants to enjoy that warmth, he wants to touch your cheek and gaze into your eyes for hours on end, examining every detail of your iris until he has it mapped better than the back of his own hand… but his heart tightens and his arms tingle when he tries. 

  He’s afraid, scared to overstep thresholds whose doors have long since opened wide for his presence. Afraid to take a wrong turn in the endless hallways of his thoughts and what-ifs.

  You don’t push him, you give him time to consider his movement and actions and proceed in the ways he feels comfortable—but you don’t let him pull back too far either. You grasp his hand as it pulls too close to his chest and he swallows when you bring it to yours, you press his palm against your chest and allow him to feel your heartbeat—quickened, excited, yet nervous as well. Sometimes, you’re also nervous. It’s okay to hesitate. 

  Mere moments like brushing his fingers against yours on accident are enough for his head-wings to shoot up into the air. You had simply been reaching for a pistachio in a bowl on a table where you sat with Sunday next to you, and he had coincidentally reached out as well. “A-ah, my apologies,” he pulls his hand back, wings lowering again as one moves halfway up his cheek in a meagre attempt to disguise the dusty red of his cheeks. 

  A small smile tugs on your lips and you take an additional nut to give to him. “It’s okay, here.” He holds his palm open for you to place the pistachio in, but instead of doing so, you peel the shell away with a click and hold it towards his lips. “Open up.”

  Five or so muscles in his face twitch as he leans back, surprised by your sudden approach and the very intimate gesture of trying to feed him—his eyes flicker to the left where Himeko is positively destroying March 7th in a card game, they’re not paying any attention to the two of you at all. 

  Sunday’s lips press together and for a moment you wonder if you might have pushed him a little too far, the red hue of his cheeks deepening as he avoids your eyes… and opens his mouth, just a little—barely enough to fit the small pistachio there.

  Your fingers touch his lips as you manage to set the pistachio on the tip of his tongue hiding only a little behind the bottom row of his teeth, and Sunday thinks he might explode. The way his upper lip lifted a little and a small drop of drool slid under his tongue—thankfully out of sight but definitely not out of mind—when your finger pushed under it to set the nut in his mouth…

  He swallows the pistachio quickly and nervously without chewing it and it almost stops in his throat before he could even realise what he was doing. Sunday might have just perished from embarrassment before the lack of oxygen would kill him were the pistachio to stop in his throat.

  Sunday hasn’t stepped off the Express in a while, he does so rather often, all things considered—usually choosing to at least peek out at the worlds you explore. After all, how can he find himself if he doesn’t look? 

  But he has never experienced a planet like this… you could convince him this is some intergalactically funded horror exhibition if you tried. Long stretches of trees and branches reach into the skies, casting dark shadows on the dull grass that covers the ground as far as one can see. The skies are dark when you hop off the train and practically drag Sunday along.

  He walks close to you, unsure if to reassure himself of your presence among the shadows, or to be ready to give his assistance were you to catch your foot on a root and crash on the ground—you’re walking so fast he can't help but think it’s just a matter of time.

  You feel something touch your thumb and look down, only to see Sunday’s gloved hand retreat. He’s looking ahead and pretending there is nothing strange happening. “Are you scared?” you wonder, tilting your head to get a better look at his face.

  A small frown tugs at his lips, so faint you could barely see it. “Of course not, but I am concerned about us getting lost—do you know where we’re going?” 

  “Kind of,” you sway your hand a little, seeing if you can fish at where he has retracted his to. “Pom-Pom mentioned there a huge city not far from where we dropped down, this world has some real good puddings if I read right.”

  Sunday merely hums in response, following you along. You did finally find the city—high buildings made of darkened wood, but with bright lanterns and strings of lights hanging between buildings to illuminate the streets in a comfortable orange. All the ambiance needs is rain (and for you two be inside a nice café) and it’s perfect.

  The streets, however, are a labyrinth. 

  You get lost only seven minutes after reaching the city, and no matter how you squinted at your phone, you couldn’t wrap your head around the map—and it doesn’t help that despite the darkness, it’s midday, and thus the streets and crowded near shoulder-to-shoulder. This place must be popular despite the gloomy atmosphere. 

  Having almost lost sight of you wandering around trying to get your bearings in the crowd, Sunday gathers his courage and stomps down his thoughts—and takes your hand. 

  You stop where you’re going and turn to look at him. “Hm? Is something wrong?”

  He still avoids your eyes, but his grip is firm. “You’re… still going in the wrong direction.”

  “I am?” you look back down to your phone and tilt it sideways. “Ah! Like this, I get it now… I think.”

  Sunday sighs, stepping closer to you as a person shoulder past your positions—and suddenly the two of you are standing far closer than planned, nearly pressed against the wall of a building that leads to the corner of the street. He can’t stop thinking about your hand against his gloved one, and he also can’t help but notice that your fingers feel cold.

  As you try to figure out the best path towards the mythical pudding, holding your phone out for Sunday to see as well, his fingers and palm engulf yours and try to move some of his heat to you. His thumb rubs over your palm as you speak and the lack of proper reaction from you, yet still laying your hand out to him, helps him find the gesture more natural and comfortable… something he wouldn’t mind indulging in more often. 

  Sunday is a very passive person when it comes to affections, he’s rarely the one to reach out first and needs a bit of a push to even come up with romantic gestures. He considers the time you spend together and the understanding between you to be much more precious and indicative of his affections.

  However, he gets an idea one time from something he saw when scrolling his phone… to leave notes around. Sunday wasn’t sure of it at first—and a little embarrassed that someone else might find them before you do—but gradually began to find it as an easy way to show his attention. 

  Sometimes, the notes have a small message on them (mostly reminding you to sleep more) but other times, there’s no message at all. He came to use it as a ‘I thought of you’ message, where he leaves a blank, small post-it on something. 

  One time you forgot to buy new toothpaste on the Express’ most recent stop and dreaded having to borrow from someone again—until you opened the drawer to fetch your toothbrush and saw a full tube with a small blue post-it on it… now you need to go over to his room and rub his cheeks and thank him for remembering your complaints about always forgetting to buy a new one. 

  Sunday is a surprisingly good caretaker, you caught some sort of cold or flu on a recent trip off the express and have been miserable in bed for days. Up and down, hot and cold, snot-filled and gross on all ends. But he sits down by your bedside and takes your temperature, lays the back of his hand against your heated skin and does all he can to help. 

  One aspect he struggled with was when you got whiny one evening and reached out for a hug…

  While you might mistake his hesitation for disgust, as you are snot-nosed, puffy eyed and half crying from misery—it’s far from what was on his mind. But Sunday feels his chest tighten at the sight of you so miserable, temporary as it is, and he doesn’t have the heart to refuse your embrace. 

  He leans down and lets you wrap your arms around his shoulders, your clammy forehead rubbing into his shirt as he stiffly pats your head and tries to soothe you. “It’s alright… your fever is going down, you’ll be okay soon, just remember to drink the water on the nightstand, okay?” he mumbles by your ear, and the more you nod and thank him for taking care of you, the more his muscles ease and he shifts a bit to lay down with you, allowing you to burrow into the crook of his neck and find comfort in his presence. 

  Sunday rests his chin over your head and rubs your back. “Would you like me to sing for you?”

  You nod into his shoulder and he closes his mouth to hum familiar tunes, the beginning of a familiar song as the vibrations in his chest rumble against you. His voice is soothing, and his singing is surprisingly soft and gentle. 

  As you drift to well-needed sleep, Sunday stays with you until he’s certain you’ve fallen asleep… and then for a while more, just long enough that he can’t imagine tearing himself away from you—or risking waking you up by rising from the bed. Perhaps it’s alright if he stays the night here, after all, he needs to make sure you hydrate through the night.

[b4ckleys]

this is like, so different from all the aus of ices parents I’ve seen before but I really want to see one where like, they live in Russia (they moved back once Ice and Sarah were both 18) while ice is in America (Sarah is somewhere around the globe being a volunteer nurse) and for one of the holidays it doesn’t matter which, Ices mother demands that the family meets up and that ice should ‘bring that maverick you keep telling me about’

The trip is coordinated yadiyadiya etc etc and they decide to have everyone fly out to Alaska since ices parents still own the family house.

I just really really want to see this SOMEONE PLEASE SEE THE VISION

[ernand-0]

Mine is Tag/Summary -> Word count.

I tend to prefer reading fic that has over 5k words. Especially those over 150k.

By this I mean, what is the most influential on your decision? E.g., for me it is the summary because I rarely pay attention to the title or stats, and only read the tags after I've liked the summary enough to want to give the fic a go.

[mairaiscarrierofthepaperclips]

Flufftober 2023 Masterlist

Handy list of my Buddie Flufftober 2023 fics, for anyone looking for a specific one.

just like our hearts intertwine. G, 1.1k Tooth-rotting fluff. Eddie leads a blind-folded Buck to a backyard surprise.

my heart will bloom for you. G, 1.3k. Secret relationship. They try to keep their cool around the Firefam. It goes about as well as expected.

i smiled because i knew. G, 1.1k Love confession. A zoo trip takes an unexpected turn. At least for Buck; Eddie absolutely knew what he was doing.

what makes life divine. T, 1.7k. Fantasy AU. Prince!Eddie and commoner!Buck.

you hold my heart forever. G, 1.8k. Halloween fic. Haunted corn maze + handholding.

i so informed you thusly. M, 2.4k. Established relationship. Domestic fluff and a broken porch swing.

the only thing more beautiful. T, 2.2k. Love confessions a la Abeula's telenovellas (i.e., shouted across a carpark AND in the rain).

so hold my heart my love my soul. T, 2.5k. Catdad!Eddie. A tiny kitten helps Eddie admit his feelings.

a madman and a minstrel. T, 2.7k. Drunken confession. Eddie secretly confesses his feelings for Buck. To Buck.

your sweetness i crave, your lips upon mine. T, 2.7k. Hospital confession. Because Buck is in hospital again, which obviously means feelings get involved.

you are my very movement, and i your wildest yes. E, 2.5k. Author's first E fic. Firelight, a blanket, and two guys very much in love.

and i always will. M, 2.3k. Morning after fic. Eddie accidentally answers Buck's phone.

you're the one i choose. T, 3.1k. Celebrity AU. Actor!Buck and boyfriend!Eddie.

finally, drops about me, on me. T, 3.1k. Baking fic. Yet another fic where love is realised in the kitchen.

all that's best of dark and bright. M, 4.1k. Nightmare fic. Comfort can always be found in the arms of the one you love.

in different kinds of solitude. T, 3.7k. Firefam fic. The 118 are sick of Oblivious!Buddie, so they make it their mission to fix it.

nothing is simple yet nothing is simpler. T, 2.7k. Hospital fic. Buck vs. Eddie Diaz and the Slutty Black Tank Top.

you're where i stand, hearing the sea. T, 2.9k. Accidental kiss. When you're so (secretly) in love with someone that kissing them seems completely normal.

night strewn salt across the sky. T, 3.3k. CoffeeshopAU. Featuring barista!Buck and nurse!Eddie.

to the depth and breadth and height. M, 6.2k. 5+1 fic. Five times Eddie makes Buck (happy) cry, and the one time Christopher does.

i am never without it. T, 3.4k. Love confessions. Buck discovers that not all bad memories are viewed as such.

to notice all the shiny things. T, 4.2k. Beach fic. Eddie is shirtless at the beach and Buck is very aware of that fact.

i wanna feel the sunshine, shining down on me and you. T, 3.7k. Accidental kiss. Because when something seems so natural, how can you not do it?

to beg a boon. G, 3k. Not Actually Unrequited Love. Buck and Eddie visit a carnival.

that show us to our love inevitable. T, 2.1k. Literal sleeping together. A thunderstorm hits L.A. and brings memories with it.

for all the words unspoken. T, 5.1k. Only one bed. The 118 go to a conference out of town.

give me the love that so freely gives. T, 2.3k. The 'wha- no!' moment. Chimney helps Buck realise (and admit) his feelings.

[212-apricity]

siren songs and stolen kisses, the bell tower

ssask masterlist main masterlist

author's note: guys im so sorry i havent updated since literally BEFORE CHRISTMAS but ive been locking in for school rn (sixth form is NOT for the weak) and the other day when i was gonna post my friends invited me to a party and i got super drunk and completely forgot🙂...BUT we're back now🥳💖🙏🗣️‼️

OH and i havent proofread this so im sorry for any mistakes or anything and also:

Y/I = your initials

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

The late afternoon sun cast long, golden shadows across the cluttered salvage yard, highlighting the rusted car parts and scattered tools that formed a chaotic maze. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a temporary refuge for the Pogues—a brief sanctuary in a world that seemed hell-bent on breaking us. I leaned against an old pickup truck, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, the cool metal grounding me. My eyes darted nervously between Pope, Kiara, and JJ. JJ’s blue eyes burned with a fire I knew all too well: a volatile mix of anger, frustration, and helplessness.

Above us, the faint drone of Ward’s plane sliced through the tense silence like a taunt, a constant reminder of everything slipping out of our grasp. Pope’s voice broke the heavy quiet first, tight and bitter. “There goes the gold,” he muttered, his gaze locked on the plane’s retreating silhouette.

JJ exploded instantly, his emotions boiling over. “Goddammit!” he roared, kicking a plastic chair with enough force to send it flying in pieces. It splintered against the gravel, the shards scattering like his temper. Pope wasn’t far behind, grabbing a crowbar from a nearby pile of tools. With a furious yell, he swung it into a stack of metal drums. The clang reverberated through the yard, each echo sharpening the tension around us. “Fuck!”

“Pope, stop!” Kiara shouted, her voice rising in alarm as she took a cautious step toward him. But he didn’t hear—or maybe he didn’t care. The crowbar came down again and again, each strike more furious than the last. JJ, Kiara, and I exchanged a worried glance. This wasn’t Pope—not the level-headed, focused friend we relied on. It was as if the pressure and frustration of everything had finally cracked something deep inside him.

Finally, Pope’s swings slowed, his energy drained. With a final clatter, the crowbar slipped from his hands, and he sank into a nearby chair, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. JJ let out a low whistle, his eyebrows raised in a mix of surprise and concern. “Yeah, dude,” he said, his tone lighter than the moment warranted. “That was… intense.”

Still breathing heavily, Pope stared down at his hands as if searching for answers in his palms. JJ reached into his pocket and pulled out his vape, holding it out casually. “Here you go, chief,” he offered, his smirk barely concealing the weight of the situation.

Pope hesitated, his hand hovering over the vape. “A little weed never hurt no one,” JJ added with a shrug, his tone dripping with nonchalance.

“JJ,” Kiara snapped, her sharp tone cutting through the moment.

“Relax, Kie,” JJ shot back, his irritation flaring.

She crossed her arms, her disapproval radiating. “You know he doesn’t smoke.”

To my surprise—and evidently Kiara’s as well—Pope took the vape. It wasn’t just an acceptance; it felt like a challenge, a way to push back against her judgment. JJ grinned, leaning back on the wreck of an old car, his expression triumphant. “Well, maybe not until today,” he quipped.

I moved closer, sitting beside Pope and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Kiara’s frown deepened, her concern clear as she tried to reason with him. “Pope,” she said judgementally, “Yeah, what’s that gonna help?”

Pope exhaled a shaky breath, the weight of everything pressing down on him. “I lost my scholarship Kiara,” he admitted, his voice breaking with defeat. “Walked out in the middle of the interview. Everything… it’s not gonna happen. It’s gone.”

My chest tightened at his words. I squeezed his shoulder gently, wishing I could somehow lift even a fraction of the burden he carried. Kiara’s face twisted in shock and disbelief. “You did that for us?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“No,” Pope replied, his tone resolute as he stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the gravel. His frustration bubbled over again, spilling into his next words. “Not for us. For nothing.”

JJ stepped up beside him, his expression calmer now, almost uncharacteristically so. “I’m here for you, Pope,” he said quietly, pressing the vape back into his friend’s hand. “Welcome to my world.”

“JJ—” Kiara started, her voice rising with protest, but I cut her off, unable to hold back my own frustration. “What, Kie? He’s right. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

A heavy silence fell over us, broken only by the distant cawing of seagulls. Pope raised the vape to his lips, inhaling lightly before exhaling a thin plume of smoke. Kiara shook her head, her eyes filled with quiet desperation. “You don’t have to do that,” she said.

Pope turned to her, his patience fraying. “Why do you care?” he snapped, his voice sharper than intended.

Before Kiara could respond, movement behind us caught my eye. “John B,” I said, my voice a mix of relief and alarm.

We all spun around to see him approach, his figure disheveled and unsteady. Blood streaked up his arms, smeared all the way to his wrists. My stomach dropped, dread washing over me like a tidal wave. We rushed toward him, our questions spilling out in a panicked tumble.

“Dude! Dude, you good?” JJ asked, concern softening his usual bravado.

“Oh my God, John B!” Kiara exclaimed, her hands hovering near him as if unsure whether to touch him.

“John B, are you okay? Where’s Sarah?” I asked, my voice rising with panic.

John B didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed on the ground, his expression distant and haunted. The sight of him like this sent my mind racing, each horrific possibility more unbearable than the last. Whose blood was it? Sarah’s? Rafe’s? Ward’s?

The sound of approaching sirens snapped us out of our collective worry. “Cops!” JJ hissed, his voice low but urgent. Without hesitation, he grabbed my waist and pulled me behind a stack of rusted metal, his grip firm and protective.

We crouched together, my back pressed against his chest as we waited for the sirens to pass. His breath was warm against my ear, steady despite the chaos around us. In that moment, amidst the tension and fear, I felt an unexpected sense of safety in his arms. When the sirens finally faded into the distance, JJ loosened his hold, though his hand lingered on my hip—a silent reassurance that he had me.

“We need a plan,” Kiara said, her voice shaky as she peeked out from our hiding spot. “This isn’t over.”

JJ glanced down at me, his usual smirk returning for a fleeting moment. “You okay, princess?” he asked softly, his tone carrying an unexpected gentleness.

I nodded, my cheeks flushing at the nickname. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Good,” he said, his voice low and steady.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

As John B’s voice echoed through the Twinkie, the tension in the air was palpable. The urgency in his tone cut through everything, even the thick fog of confusion that still clouded my thoughts. Rafe had killed Peterkin. My brother. The same brother I used to confide in. I’d never been more shaken in my life, and as much as I wanted to confront him, to get answers, I knew I couldn’t right now. The truth needed to come out, but I was still struggling to process what that meant.

I sat next to JJ, trying to hold it together. He could sense I was barely keeping it together, though, and before long, he shifted closer to me. He didn’t say anything at first, just placed a hand on my knee, the warmth of his touch grounding me. His eyes, usually so full of mischievous energy, were soft now, full of something deeper, something tender.

“Hey, you good?” he asked quietly, his voice low, only for me to hear. The way he spoke my name made it feel like we were the only two people in the world right now, and for a brief moment, I wanted to believe it.

I managed a shaky nod, though the lump in my throat made it hard to speak. “Just… a lot to take in.”

JJ squeezed my hand, his thumb brushing over my skin, the comfort of his touch pulling me back from the edge of my panic. “I’m here, baby. I got you.”

His words, simple but powerful, gave me something to cling to. I leaned into him slightly, resting my head against his shoulder. He didn’t pull away; instead, he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer. His body was warm, a steady presence that seemed to push back the cold, chaotic storm swirling in my chest. The soft hum of the Twinkie’s engine and the rhythmic sound of the tires against the road were the only things that filled the silence now, but for some reason, with JJ beside me, it didn’t feel quite as suffocating.

“John B,” JJ called out suddenly, breaking the tension. “What are we doing at the police station?”

I glanced over at John B, watching as he hesitated, gripping the steering wheel with a tightness that made his knuckles white. I could tell he was wrestling with the decision, the weight of what they were about to do.

“Somebody’s gotta tell them what happened,” John B finally spoke, his voice rough, but determined.

Before anyone could respond, Pope let out a dramatic cough from the back seat, still trying to get the hang of JJ’s vape, the noise cutting through the otherwise quiet tension.

“Easy there, Chief,” JJ teased, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. It was clear he was trying to lighten the mood, and despite everything, I couldn’t help but laugh lightly, the sound escaping me despite my best efforts to keep it together.

John B’s hand clenched harder on the wheel as we pulled up closer to the police station. I could tell he was hesitating, the reality of what he was about to do weighing heavily on him. JJ leaned forward, his hand resting on John B’s shoulder, his voice steady.

“I’m gonna be real with you, man,” JJ started, his tone serious now. “You might end up in the lion’s den, but you do not go there on purpose. It’s fundamental. Just like my old man taught me…”

At the mention of his father, I rolled my eyes. JJ’s father was a man I had little respect for—abusive, manipulative, and dangerous. JJ had grown up in that environment, a fact that always seemed to haunt him.

“JJ,” I interrupted, my voice carrying the weight of my frustration, “your old man’s an abusive liar.”

Before JJ could respond, Pope cut in, his voice uncharacteristically firm. “I agree with JJ,” he said, surprising everyone in the car, myself included. “Screw the police.”

Kiara whipped around in her seat, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You goin’ to the dark side now?” she asked, clearly judgmental.

Pope didn’t flinch. “When’s the last time the police helped us?”

John B spoke next, his voice quiet, almost as if he were talking to himself. “Peterkin looked out for me, all right? Tried to, at least.”

There was a moment of silence as we all processed his words. Despite everything, there was a part of me that didn’t want to believe Rafe was capable of murder. I couldn’t fathom it. The brother I once knew couldn’t have done something so terrible. But the evidence was right there, and it had to be acknowledged.

I closed my eyes for a moment, a wave of dread washing over me, but JJ’s arm around my shoulders gave me something to focus on. He kissed the side of my head, a gentle gesture that somehow made everything feel a little more bearable, even if just for a moment.

“Let’s just get this over with,” I murmured, my voice thick with emotion.

As we approached the police station, Kiara’s voice cracked the silence again, this time filled with concern. “I have a bad feeling about this, guys,” she said, her eyes darting nervously around the car.

Pope, still working through the effects of the vape, muttered, “What don’t you have bad feelings about, Kiara?”

She gave him a pointed look, but before she could respond, my phone buzzed again. Rafe or Sarah—neither had responded to any of my texts. I couldn’t help but feel a gnawing sense of anxiety build up again as I checked my phone, hoping for some kind of message. Anything to give me clarity. Anything to give me peace of mind.

JJ, noticing my growing frustration, gently took the phone from my hands, stopping me before I could spiral further.

“It’ll work out, sweetheart,” he said softly, his voice reassuring.

I looked up at him, meeting his gaze for the first time in what felt like hours. His eyes were full of a tenderness I rarely saw. I was grateful for it, grateful for him. It didn’t fix everything, but in that moment, it was enough.

I leaned my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes as the car bounced along the uneven road. The steady rise and fall of his chest under my cheek was a comfort, grounding me in a way nothing else could. Pope started coughing again, and I couldn’t help but chuckle despite everything.

“Here, let me show you how to do it,” I said, reaching over to take the vape from his hands. “You’re gonna choke yourself out at this rate.”

Pope, looking embarrassed, nodded gratefully as I demonstrated how to inhale properly.

“Inhale from the pen, hold it while you inhale the air, then hold that, bring it down to your lungs and then exhale slowly. You’vve got to do it slowly or you’ll choke.”

JJ laughed lightly behind me, as I repeated the words he’d said to me years ago when I asked for him to teach me, his low chuckle sending a shiver down my spine.

“Maybe you should teach him how to roll a blunt next,” he teased, his voice warm with affection.

I rolled my eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “Shut up, J.”

Before we could say anything else, we were jolted out of our conversation by John B’s frantic shouting.

“Start the car, Kiara!” he yelled, rushing up to the Twinkie.

Kiara’s eyes widened in alarm as she scrambled to the driver’s seat, shifting gears and starting the car without hesitation. The chaos that followed was instant. We all screamed at John B, asking him what he’d done. “Just drive, Kiara, drive!” John B shouted as the deputy sheriff, Officer Plumb, came running toward us, trying to catch up.

The Twinkie lurched forward, tires screeching, and as the deputy caught up to the door, Pope screamed, “Open the door, John B!”

John B quickly obeyed, the door swinging open and knocking Plumb off her feet as we sped away. The moment was chaotic, but the adrenaline of escaping gave us all a brief moment to breathe, albeit raggedly.

We sat there in stunned silence, catching our breath, the world outside feeling more dangerous by the second.

“Everybody okay?” Kiara asked, looking around at each of us.

I nodded slowly, my heart still racing. JJ was quiet next to me, his hand finding mine once more, grounding me in a way no words ever could. He didn’t say anything, but the gentle squeeze of his hand spoke volumes.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

The sun beat down on the dusty road, casting a heat haze over the Twinkie as it idled at the side of the road, parked in a secluded spot. The air felt sticky, thick with tension, as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Inside, the Pogues were sprawled in every corner, trying to stay out of sight. Y/n, lying in the backseat, could hear the occasional rustle of the others shifting, but it was quiet, almost too quiet.

She fiddled absentmindedly with JJ's lighter, flipping it open and closed in her hand. The soft click of the lighter’s lid echoed in the otherwise silent car, and she kept her eyes on the motion, trying to focus on anything that wasn’t the mess they were in. JJ’s head was resting on her chest, his hat pulled low to shield her eyes from the harsh midday sun. She could feel his breath against her, a steady rhythm that calmed her more than she wanted to admit.

Y/n glanced down at him, her fingers trailing over the brim of his hat, moving to his neck. The lightest of smiles tugged at the corners of her lips as JJ shifted, his tousled blonde hair falling over his forehead, still messy even under the hat. He stirred slightly, murmuring something unintelligible, but his position didn’t change.

“You good?” she whispered, nudging him gently.

He let out a soft, almost inaudible grunt in response, but the smile he gave her was enough to tell her he wasn’t asleep—just content. “Mmhmm... just trying to avoid the sun. Can’t let it mess up my look, y’know?” he said with a lazy smirk, his eyes still closed.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t protest. The simple, playful teasing was one of the things she loved most about him.

The soft voice of the radio broke the stillness. “Good news for residents of the Outer Banks. Dominion Power says their underwater transmission line, which will restore power to 90% of the area, should be functional within 24 hours.”

JJ’s head shot up suddenly as the sound of sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder as they approached. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, then to the side of the road. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, eyes widening as the sirens got closer. He didn’t move to sit up, but the tension in his body was palpable, and Y/n felt it before he spoke again.

He remained on her chest, but his hand gripped her hip with a tightness that made her stomach flip. The sirens passed by, the sound growing fainter until it was nothing more than a distant hum. He exhaled in relief and flopped back down with a groan, resting his head on her chest again.

Y/n let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, her fingers threading through his hair absentmindedly. She focused on the radio again, trying to push the paranoia out of her head, as did everyone else.

“And still no arrest in the shooting death of Sheriff Susan Peterkin. The state police have issued a statement regarding a local person of interest, a juvenile from—”

The radio cut off abruptly, and Kiara’s voice sliced through the silence. She was sitting in the passenger seat, her hand stretched out to flick the radio dial off with a sharp motion.

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Kiara muttered, her eyes flicking to the rearview mirror nervously. She rubbed at her temples as if the weight of everything was starting to settle on her shoulders, too.

JJ sat up, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Alright. Let’s game this out. Maybe you guys can help, you know, being the smart ones and all…” He gestured lazily toward Pope and Kiara in the front seats, but his gaze flicked back to them. “But who are the cops gonna believe? Ward Cameron, or us?”

Y/n felt the weight of his words settle in as she kept fiddling with his lighter, trying to avoid looking at him too closely. She already knew the answer.

“The accuser’s a big shot developer, kind of lord of the island, got the governor on speed dial. Isn’t that right, Y/n? Kind of person?” JJ continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He gave her a sly look as he leaned over her slightly, nudging her shoulder with his.

Y/n rolled her eyes but didn’t respond, the teasing in his voice making her stomach do that familiar flutter. “Probably,” she said with a grin, but JJ’s expression didn’t change. She tried to ignore the way his words made her heart skip a beat, instead focusing on the lighter again.

JJ raised an eyebrow and pressed on. “And the accused is John B. Who is… pretty much a homeless 16-year-old boy at the moment.”

John B made a sound of protest. “Thanks,” he muttered dryly, not missing a beat.

Pope let out a frustrated groan, rubbing a hand over his face. “Shit,” he muttered, clearly weighing the reality of the situation.

JJ continued, clearly enjoying the tension in the air. “Okay, man. Yucatán. Alright? I’m saying that’s the only option.”

Kiara glanced back at him, her brow furrowed. “What other option do you have?”

John B’s eyes flickered with something—resentment, maybe—before he sighed. “JJ, enough with the Mexican bullshit. Sarah will bail me out.”

“She did witness the whole thing,” Kiara chimed in, turning to glance at John B, her eyes softening just slightly.

John B nodded at her, a brief moment of gratitude crossing his face. “Thanks.”

Pope raised an eyebrow, his voice skeptical. “And she’s gonna snitch on her brother? No offense, Y/n.”

Y/n shifted uncomfortably, her gut twisting. She hadn’t thought much about Sarah’s involvement, but Pope had a point. There was no way Rafe would let Sarah testify against him.

JJ snorted, then took a puff from a blunt he’d suddenly lit up. He leaned back, eyes half-lidded as he exhaled the smoke slowly. “Not happening, bro. Okay? We’ve gotta get you off the island.”

Pope turned to glance out the window, chewing on his lip as if the gears were turning in his head. “The ferry. It’s the only way.”

As if on cue, sirens blared again, and JJ’s eyes widened. “Exit stage left while you still can. Before the entire island’s on lockdown.”

“Guys, get down,” Y/n whispered, her voice tight with nerves as the sound of sirens grew closer, this time much louder.

Pope cursed under his breath as the police cars sped by, their flashing lights cutting through the silence.

“Sarah’s not a Pogue, John B,” Pope said, clearly frustrated.

Y/n felt a pang in her chest, but she couldn’t tell if it was guilt, dread, or something else entirely. She hadn’t thought about Sarah and John B’s connection for a while, but the words felt like a cold reminder of the danger they were in.

JJ leaned closer to her, pressing his shoulder into hers. “Yeah, you can’t stay here, man.”

Y/n gave John B a soft look, knowing JJ was right. They had to move. Fast.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

The atmosphere in the car was tight with nerves, the faint hum of Kiara’s parents’ car the only sound as they drove in silence, the occasional creak of the suspension filling the gaps. The tension among the Pogues was thick—each of them trying to wrap their heads around what came next. JJ’s hand rested on the back of Y/n’s seat, his fingers idly tapping on the fabric as his mind raced, likely thinking about the implications of their next move.

They pulled up to the ferry terminal, the familiar sight of the metal gates and wooden booths looming in front of them. Kiara hit the brakes, coming to a halt as Pope unbuckled his seatbelt, already opening the door. Y/n glanced at JJ, who was still absentmindedly twirling his lighter between his fingers, his eyes focused on the terminal.

“You sure this is the best idea?” Y/n asked, her voice tinged with doubt. “I mean, what’s the plan if the ferry’s not running?”

JJ didn’t respond immediately, just gave her that crooked, half-smiling look, like he always did when he didn’t have an answer but knew he’d figure it out. He squeezed her shoulder, a silent reassurance. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, babe. Stay cool.”

As Pope headed off toward the ticket booth, Kiara rolled her eyes. “Why is it always Pope doing the talking?” she muttered under her breath, running a hand through her hair.

JJ grinned, leaning back in his seat and locking eyes with Y/n. “He’s got the whole ‘nerdy, intelligent’ thing going for him. They’ll believe him.”

Y/n smiled softly at that, reaching over to squeeze JJ’s hand, feeling the warmth of his palm against hers.

John B, sitting beside her in the backseat, watched Pope’s retreating figure with a furrowed brow. “You think the ferry’s even gonna be running?” he asked quietly, his voice strained.

Before anyone could respond, Pope came back to the car, looking less than thrilled. His face was grim as he walked up to the window, a crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

“Okay, alright, no,” Pope muttered, shaking his head as he leaned in the window. He handed Kiara the paper, the frustration clear in his voice, “Bad news,” he announced, holding up a crumpled paper. “The ferry’s not running. And there’s this.”

He handed the paper to Kiara, who opened it with a frown, her face falling as she processed the information. She handed it to Y/n, who read the poster in stunned silence.

John B’s face was plastered on the wanted poster. WANTED: John B Routledge. Reward: $500,000.

“Oh, John B. This is not a good look for you,” Y/n muttered under her breath, her fingers tightening around the paper. She handed it to JJ, her stomach twisting.

JJ didn’t even hesitate before speaking up. “Congratulations, John B. You’re famous.” He smirked, but it was clear he was more worried than he let on.

Kiara groaned, looking between the group. “So, now what?”

Pope, clearly uneasy, turned to face them. “We need to get him out of here. They’re looking for him everywhere. We can’t stay here.”

Kiara was already thinking ahead. “We need to go to the HMS. No running lights. No attention.”

John B shook his head. “It’s at the Chateau Kie.”

JJ leaned back, sarcastic as ever, “I wonder if the cops got that place staked out. Oh wait… they definitely have that place locked down.”

Kiara shot him a glare. “Yeah, thanks, JJ.”

Pope, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, went quiet for a moment before an idea popped into his head, "JJ," he said, his voice breaking the stillness of the car.

JJ snapped his head around, startled, as if he had been caught doing something wrong. His face twisted in confusion. "What?" he asked, his tone defensive.

Pope didn’t seem to notice JJ’s agitation. His excitement was palpable as he turned to look at him. "Does your dad still have that boat? The cigarette boat, the Phantom? The one he used to race?"

JJ clenched his jaw at the mention of his father. His heart skipped, and he immediately wished Pope had kept quiet. "Maybe," he said curtly, his voice low. He didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to think about it. But Pope’s words had unlocked something in his mind, something he couldn’t ignore.

Pope turned back toward the front of the car, clearly excited at the idea of what this could mean. "John B, you could get right up the coast, no problem. It's fast as hell. You wouldn’t have to worry about anyone catching you."

JJ felt a knot twist in his stomach at the suggestion. The last thing he wanted was to take something from his father, especially not something that felt so personal. The boat was more than just a piece of equipment—it was a symbol of everything he hated about his father. "Okay, Pope, look," JJ said slowly, his voice becoming more cautious. "It's not gonna be that easy."

Y/n, who had been watching the interaction, turned around from the backseat. "Okay, well, the surf’s running from, like, three to four," she said, trying to inject some logic into the situation.

JJ shook his head. "I don’t even know where the keys are," he muttered, frustration creeping into his voice.

Pope wasn’t deterred. "Well, find them," he said, his words almost like a command. "Just get us the boat. We’ll figure out the rest."

JJ’s nerves were starting to show now. He was trying to keep it together, but he was definitely starting to feel the pressure. "I’m thinking," he said, his words coming out a little more forcefully than he intended. "Just—just give me a second."

But Pope wasn’t having it. He was way too excited. "Why is nobody moving forward?" he asked, practically bouncing in his seat.

Kiara, who had been silent up until this point, sighed and turned around from the front seat. "Pope, can you relax?" she asked, exasperated. "JJ, how much weed did you give him?"

Before anyone could respond, John B, who had been lying down in the back seat, suddenly sat up and looked out the window. "Guys, your car’s on the poster," he said, his voice tense.

Everyone froze. Pope's hand instinctively reached for the horn, and suddenly the car was making noise, attracting even more attention from the people around them. A kid on the sidewalk pointed at the car excitedly, shouting, "Mom! Look, it’s that guy from the poster! Right there!"

"Asshole," Y/n muttered under her breath, her eyes wide as the situation escalated further.

JJ’s head snapped back around to Pope. "Pope! Turn the car on," he snapped, trying to get their attention before it was too late.

"Drive!" John B and Kiara shouted almost simultaneously, and the chaos continued.

But as if things weren’t bad enough, a guy walked up to the car, looked inside, and started banging on the window. "Hey, he’s right there!" the man shouted. He pointed directly at John B, making the situation even worse.

Kiara, Y/n, and JJ were all screaming at Pope to drive, their voices filled with panic as the guy outside the car continued to shout. John B was trying to cover his face, but it was clear that they were about to get caught.

Just as the tension hit its peak, Officer Plumb, the deputy sheriff, appeared. He was walking toward the group, clearly alerted by the commotion.

"POPE!" Y/n screamed, desperate. "Just drive away!"

Pope, however, seemed to be on a different wavelength entirely. He slammed his foot on the gas, but he hit the pedal too hard and too quickly. The car shot forward and collided with the one in front of them. The sudden impact sent Kiara and Pope lurching forward, the seatbelts keeping them somewhat in place, while John B nearly toppled over his lying position.

JJ, who had been leaning toward Y/n, smashed into her side as the car jerked. He quickly sat up, his hands grabbing her as he tried to regain his balance. "Sorry, baby," he murmured, brushing a kiss against the side of her head. His heart was still racing, and the adrenaline from the chaos was making it hard to focus.

"Pope what the hell are you all doing?" Y/n shouted, clearly panicking as the car remained stuck.

"Back up, Pope!" Kiara shouted, her voice a mix of anger and panic.

Pope, realizing his mistake, slammed the car in reverse and backed up, the car jerking backward. JJ leaned out the window, shouting at the car behind them, "That’ll bump out!"

Kiara was still screaming from her seat next to Pope. "Pope, what the hell? You’re gonna get us killed!"

"Pope!" JJ yelled, looking over at him. "I should be the last one to tell you this, but you are not okay to drive, dude. Stop!"

Pope, apparently unfazed, slammed the brakes hard. "JB, get out," he ordered, a sudden sense of urgency taking over him.

Y/n leaned in, her voice low but filled with determination. "He’s right. We’ll draw the cops. You run."

"I’ll get the rig," JJ added quickly. "Meet me at the dump tomorrow, three o’clock. Okay?"

"Yeah," John B said, nodding as he opened the door and ran out of the car.

JJ shouted behind him, "Three! Tomorrow at the dump!"

As soon as John B was clear, the Pogues erupted into shouts, telling Pope to drive. Pope revved the engine and tore off into the night, the chaos of the situation slowly settling in the rearview mirror.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

JJ, Y/n, Kiara, and Pope had pulled up outside Tannyhill, standing in the cool evening air. The plan had been hastily thrown together, but they were all committed to whatever it took to clear John B’s name.

Y/n was the first to get out of the car, her movements slow and deliberate. As she closed the door, JJ immediately turned to her, his eyes filled with concern.

"Babe, you sure this is a good idea?" he asked, his voice low, almost protective. His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of hesitation.

Y/n turned to look at him, her gaze soft but resolute. "She’s the only one who can clear John B," she said firmly. "Plus, I need to see if she’s okay."

JJ didn’t look convinced, but he knew she was right. "Last place they’ll look because of how stupid it is," he said, trying to ease the tension.

Kiara got out the drivers seat, "Okay, I’ve got a plan," she said, with determination.

Pope, way too high, shot her a look. "A plan?" he asked, a small laugh escaping him. "Yeah, okay. Let’s do a plan." his enthusiasm grew more than apparent, "Yeah! Let’s plan. Let’s plan it out!" His voice was a little too excited, clearly amped up by something else.

Kiara raised an eyebrow and turned toward him. "Can you handle a plan right now?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Pope scoffed in reply, his face growing more animated. "Course I can handle a plan right now! I’m plan guy! I’m Mister Plan-o-matic!" He stood up in his seat, gesturing wildly, then started singing, "Thinkin' of a master plan, aye! Cause there ain't nothin-"

Kiara immediately shoved her hand over his mouth. "Shh!" she hissed, trying to get him to stop.

Meanwhile, JJ pulled Y/n to the side. He looked at her seriously, his hand resting on her shoulder. "Hey, are you sure you’re okay with being here? I mean, we can leave, right now, if you want. Just say the word, baby."

Y/n gave him a small smile, her eyes warm. "No, thanks, J. I’ll be fine. I mean, since I’m basically disowned and have never been acknowledged as one of his children, Ward would 100% kidnap me or whatever if he sees me just march up to the front door." She looked at him with a small laugh, but the seriousness in her voice was unmistakable. "He knows I’m on your guys’ side, and he knows I’d rat Rafe out if given the chance."

JJ pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly against his chest. "I just don’t want you getting hurt."

Before Y/n could respond, they heard Pope’s voice calling from the front. "Kiara, I love you," he said in a loud, sudden declaration.

JJ and Y/n froze, pulling away from each other as they realized what had just happened. The awkward silence that followed was almost unbearable. Kiara immediately denied Pope’s confession, but it was clear to everyone that the situation was more complicated than they wanted to admit.

JJ looked at Y/n, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. "Should we…?"

Y/n nodded quickly, her eyes wide. "Yes. Please."

The two of them hurried away from the awkward scene, walking toward a nearby tree to escape the tension.

As they reached the tree, Y/n smiled and pointed at the trunk. "This was my favorite tree as a kid," she said, her voice soft and nostalgic. "I used to come here to think when things got too much at home."

JJ nodded, looking up at the tree. He could see how much it meant to her, as she told him stories of her and her siblings making up games and treehouses up it.

As they stood there talking, Kiara and Pope continued their own conversation. But their voices seemed distant to Y/n and JJ. The moment felt calm and almost normal. So calm that Y/n didn’t notice JJ’s pocket knife in his hand against the tree as his gaze shifted between the tree and her.

The moment was interrupted when Kiara called out to them. "Come on, guys. We’ve got to go."

As they were walking towards an awkward Pope and Kiara, Y/n’s attention was drawn to a small carving on the tree. She smiled as she recognized the familiar letters. "J.M + Y/I" carved into the bark inside a heart.

She skipped up behind JJ, giving him a quick kiss on the back of his neck as she teased, "Aw, Maybank, you sweet on someone?"

JJ laughed, looking down at her. "Shut up."

Y/n smiled at the carving one last time before following Kiara.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

After the awkward moment with Pope and Kiara, they finally made their way over to Tannyhill, where Sarah’s window awaited. JJ and Y/n approached the side of the house carefully, making sure to stay out of sight.

Y/n climbed the tree to get to Sarah’s window, knocking lightly. Sarah, who had been lying in bed, jumped at the sight of her sister, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Y/n!" Sarah gasped, rushing to open the window.

They both tried to slide the window open, but it was stuck. After a few moments of effort, Y/n finally gave up. Instead, she held up John B’s wanted poster for Sarah to see.

Sarah looked at it, her mascara smudged from earlier, but she didn’t seem surprised. Y/n asked, her voice quieter now, "Are you in on it?"

Sarah shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Did you think I was?"

Y/n smiled back. "No."

The two of them shared a moment of silent understanding, and Sarah finally said, "Okay, what’s the plan?"

Y/n took a deep breath, her thoughts racing, but she knew exactly what needed to be done next.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

part nine done!!

i love bucky barnes

ALSO OMG IF ANYONE KNOWS HOW TO DO THAT COOL GRADIENT THING ON TEXT PLEASE TELL ME IVE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO IT BUT IDK HOW TO

remember, taglist and requests are open!! feel free to send me a dm or comment on literally anything and if you have any requests for this series or literally anything else send them in!!💞💞

taglist: @harryssideboobz @onelonelybitch @jeyramarie @snowtargaryen @agnxstic

[lettertovera]

now that i’ve finished good omens GIVE ME THE BEST FICS THAT HAVE YOU READ ABOUT THESE TWO

[lovelygarbageday]

From the tags

[chodzacaparodia]

It's frustrating that you can come up with the plot of an entire fic in just a few seconds, but writing it all down can take anywhere from never to forever.

[endursent]

Hi Ma’am! I’ve recently come across your “my partner turned into a cat” series and it’s wonderful. I was wondering if I could request something similar where reader turns into their partner’s favourite animal? Preferably with Kaveh, Neuvi, and Dottore (if you write for him). If not, that’s all good. Have a nice day!

【 content; established relationship , humour , gn!reader , temporarily turned animal (reader) 】

【 characters; il dottore, kaveh , neuvillette 】

【 note; i haven't actually written for dottore before strangely enough considering how much i love him, so it might take a while for me to get his personality and mannerisms down... thank you for the ask! 】

【 word count; 1.454 | masterlist 】

Il Dottore;

Never had you considered what his “favourite animal” is, mostly because you’re convinced Dottore doesn’t have a “favourite” anything—his interests are too unpredictable and subject to change at any moment. 

  Though you should have seen it coming that one day, his experimentation would strike you—thankfully you’re not dead, you’re luckier than some assistants that have been zapped a time or two and carried out in body bags. However…

  Why are you a fat little platypus, and why does he seem so excited about it?

  You look absolutely ridiculous, you imagine—and feel, having four legs and a beak is peak body horror that is unfortunately eating at your brain right now. And yet, Dottore picks you up like one would a cat and dangles you in front of him with both an excited and thoughtful expression. “How unexpected—and interesting. I made little change to the formula…” he plops you down on the table next to the damned formula he had been adjusting… never will you inhale “experiment fumes” again. Not that you’re supposed to be doing so in any case.

  “A fascinating specimen indeed,” he pokes around your fur and you shake yourself, but he is relentless with his prodding! “One of the few mammals capable of electroreception! I wonder if you've maintained those sensory capabilities... This requires immediate testing."

  He doesn’t leave you alone for a single second that you’re like this, always either checking something—one time you were freaking out about the fact that you had no idea how to eat or drink like this… and Dottore took out a notebook and tried to get you to bite his fingers to “test the venom”... you bite a bit harder than he likely bargained for. 

  Dottore does try to “help” in his own way, while he brainstorms how to turn you back, he creates a “suitable habitat” with burrowing zones and a “pool”. He means well, but he’s also using it to observe you like a specimen so you kick up dirt and splash water on the floor and tables in spite.

  Out of anyone, Dottore is the fastest to get you back to normal… or he could, if he wanted to. But he kind of likes seeing you waddle around trying to walk with webbed feet and seeing you knock your tail into things and make weird noises. He has plenty of experience pressing your buttons and what makes you tick as a human, why not enjoy a new side of you?

Kaveh;

He’s more traumatised than you are when one moment you’re standing next to him—and the next there’s a random ass deer there. He looks around and searches for you frantically, thinking you might have fallen into a creek or rolled downhill… very unaware of that same deer following him around and trying to get his attention. 

  He does love deer, he thinks you’re unimaginably cute but also kind of silly in the way horses are silly but not huge and terrifying. 

  Kaveh almost needs you to headbutt him for him to realise that you are, in fact, in front of him and not soaking around in a nearby river hanging out with the frogs. Thankfully, he’s smart enough to put two and two together after he snaps out of it—but now he’s just confused.

  How? You had just been right there! There wasn’t even a rustle of leaves or anything!

  In any case, he needs to get you back to the city… you walk like a human in a deer suit, unused to the long four legs and strange join positions—and as soon as you enter his and Alhaitham’s home (after getting your antlers caught in the door like an idiot if you have those) you suddenly stop. 

  “What is it?” Kaveh peeps from behind you, confused as to why your ass is just standing in the doorway.

  The house has hardwood floors.

  He doesn’t realise this, of course, and gives your behind a firm push—only for you to slip and slide and nearly tumble inside like a freshly born animal. Kaveh rushes in behind you, apologising for nearly knocking you over and trying to make sure you don’t fall against anything and break things… Alhaitham would never let him live it down if he saw this.

  It’s not exactly easy to… navigate this, you’re not a small animal nor are you yourself particularly knowledgeable about your new proportions. 

  He can barely stop himself from continuously stroking your fur and feeding you crunchy things to be able to watch you munch on them. It does kind of kill the fascination he had with deer, as he’s never really interacted with them so closely until you happened to become one.

  You follow him around like a lost puppy, even as he had a very important client meeting—you didn’t let him get away… and thus, Kaveh had to improvise a bit. 

  The client, an older woman, squints at you standing slightly behind Kaveh and trying to munch on the blueprints in his hands (you haven’t had food for two hours, which is disastrous with this huge stomach you have now). 

  Kaveh clears his throat, pushing your snout away. “Yes, we can change the—no, you see, this is… yes, it’s okay, this is just… a friend.”

  He has no idea how to explain this so he just chooses not to. “Anyway… about that garden idea, if we put a patio by this side—”

Neuvillette;

You can’t believe he’s keeping you in a bowl. 

  Somehow, and for some reason, when you had accompanied Neuvillette for an evening walk along the seaside just outside of Fontaine’s walls—you had stubbed your toe on a shell that stuck out of the ground, and with a sudden zap… you had turned into a blob.

  Neuvillette looks up from his desk as he hears your soft body pound against the bowl next to him—and toss up some water that almost splashes onto the documents splayed out before him—and frowns slightly. “I know it’s not very spacious… I apologise, my love. But I don’t have anything larger at this moment, hopefully the pet store will find a more adequately sized fish tank soon.”

  He doesn’t understand how you had suddenly turned into a jellyfish, you had been behind him for a brief moment before he heard your curse (likely because you stubbed your toe) and then a poof… when Neuvillette had turned around, you were like a deflated balloon on dry land. 

  Thankfully he had created a pocket of water for you from the saltwater nearby to float in as he brought you back to the city, but the situation puzzled him greatly—how could you become such a creature? He wasn’t entirely sure you were fully conscious in that body, but judging by your frustrated movements in the small bowl, he suspected you at least had partial awareness. 

  Neuvillette doesn’t want to leave you alone while you’re like this, he’s both worried you might suddenly transform back, without any clothes—which would be terribly awkward to try and depart his office in that state—or possible hurt yourself if you broke the bowl with the transformation and cut yourself.

  Thus, thankfully after you’re given a larger tank in his office (and at home, he’s not leaving you at his office overnight alone!) there is a smaller one placed in the Opera Epiclese, next to his chair. 

  During a court proceeding, Neuvillette had to present the evidence in a firmer manner than usual, as the representative to the one being judged was being rather contrarian—which was far from productive and consumed far more time than it needed to. 

  Every time he successfully made an argument that couldn’t be refuted or argued with, you released a faint bioluminescent glow—as if applauding his expert navigations of the evidence and arguments. No one seems to notice (it’s difficult enough to see Neuvillette so high up above the stage) but he still feels a bit sheepish when you do it—you’re likely not doing it on purpose, he doubts you would know how.

  Neuvillette is very careful with the temperature and the salinity levels of the water you inhabit for the time being, he creates a careful schedule to check it every few hours as well as adjusting it depending on day and night. He’s very determined to ensure you’re as comfortable as you can be, whether you realise you’re a weird blob with tentacles or not. 

  And he hopes he can figure out how to change you back soon… as cute as it is to watch you twirl around and show off when he stands before your tank, he would rather you show off your moves as yourself—where he can properly talk to and touch you. 

[the-coffee-fandom]

Had to make a meme to describe me currently

[oneandonlyizabelle]

Holy hell. A masterpiece

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | masterlist!

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"God loves you but not enough to save you,"

summary: In the small town near Austin, Texas, you are trapped in a life of rigid expectations and silent suffering. As the preacher's daughter, you endure the mental and physical abuse of your father while your mother, bound by obedience, offers quiet love. Your longing for a father's warmth finds an unexpected solace in Joel Miller, your father's best friend and neighbor. In Joel's presence, you discover a forbidden sanctuary, where your yearning heart is met with a gentle strength you've never known.

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, pedophilia, cannibalism, human trafficking, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡

❝ to my love, Joel.

,...found you just to tell you that I made it real far, i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did.

while you were torn apart, i would still wait with you there.

don't think about it too hard, honey. or you'll never sleep a wink at night again.

and don't worry about me and these green eyes,

baby, just know that i love you. and i'll see you when you get here.

i love you forever, Joel... ❞

THE PLAYLIST! (on spotify)👰🏼‍♀️

the preacher's daughter ▪️ dbf! joel miller

MASTERLIST!🐇

Chapter 1: "But I always knew in the end, no one was coming to save me,"

Chapter 2: "Because that's how my daddy raised me,"

Chapter 3: "I watched him show his love through shades of black and blue"

Chapter 4: "He looks like he works with his hands, and smells like Marlboro reds,"

Chapter 5: "Because for the first time since I was a child, I could see a man who wasn't angry,"

Chapter 6: "Let him make a woman out of me,"

Chapter 7: "You wanna fuck me right now?"

Chapter 8: "The fates already fucked me sideways,"

Chapter 9: "Christ, forgive these bones I'm hiding,"

Chapter 10: "and that's why I could never go back home,"

Chapter 11: "I don't care where as long as you're with me,"

Chapter 12: "If it's meant to be, then it will be."

Chapter 13: "Beautiful people, beautiful problems."

Chapter 14: "You put your hands into your head, and then smile cover your hearts."

Chapter 15: "Something's bad is 'bout to happen to me,"

Chapter 16: "Tag, you're it."

Chapter 17: "If he's a serial killer then what's the worst that could happen to a girl who's already hurt?"

Chapter 18: "He's cold-blooded so it takes more time to bleed"

Chapter 19: "Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise,"

Chapter 20: "You poor thing, sweet, mourning lamb. There's nothing you can do."

Chapter 21: "If we die tonight, I'd died yours."

Chapter 22: "I'm always going to be right here, no one's going anywhere"

-THE END-

read it on wattpad!

the preacher's daughter by babyvenoms

ENJOY! and if you guys have any like visuals to this, or art that you made for this I would love to put it here, just let me know! thank you!! 🩵

[cupids-fiction]

god bless anyone who comments on ao3

[blueflipflops]

Have you ever read a really good fic then looked up the author's other works and lo and behold a treasure trove of fics that are exactly your kind of shit? Because god that is what euphoria feels like. I love you random fic writers i unexpectedly find