#recs and tropes

[orcboxer]

those first couple weeks after escaping a time loop have gotta be disorienting as all fuck. all those little cues that used to tell you what's about to happen are now triggers that cause you to brace for something that isn't coming. you have to relearn the permanence of death -- hell, you have reacquaint yourself with the entire concept of finality altogether. everything keeps changing but it never changes back and you keep having to remind yourself that this is normal. "it won't reset anymore," you echo to yourself, over and over and over, like a broken record, like you're still trapped in a loop, like someone who escaped the time loop but was doomed to bring it into the future with them

[choccy-milky]

nowhere in hogwarts is safe to snog 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨🤺 one of my fav scenes from @myokk's oneshot "clumsy" which you can read here! its about seb and mc being stubborn idiots in denial of their own feelings while also pining after each other the entire time 🥰 GO READ IT!!💖💖

[two-sibyls-tall]

Some of My Favorite Batfam Fic Tropes

In no particular order:

 - The batfam have their own language of chirps, trills, tweets, and whistles, and they use it in front of other ppl (civilians, the jla, whatever) and the other ppl go “what the actual fuck”

 - Bruce throwing the batarang at Jason Todd’s neck actually Does Damage(TM), and eventually the other members of the family find out and lose their shit

 - “Hey Tim?” “Yeah?” “Where’s your fucking spleen :)” “Lost it.” “LOST IT??”

 - Damian calling his brothers Akhi :)

 - “How many kids do you HAVE??” -The entire Justice League

 - Jason going to Titans Tower, seeing Tim, saying “is anyone gonna parent that” and then not waiting for an answer.

 - Literal Toddler Tim Drake informing the Batfamily that yes he knows everyone’s identity, and really if you didn’t want people to figure it out you should stop showing off your extremely niche skills during patrols Nightwing.

 - “Dude your son is a crime boss.” “Ex-crime boss :/”

 - A Batfamily member hearing someone talk about their civilian identity (bc, yknow,, they’re famous) and just having to Deal With It because what the fuck else are they supposed to do??

 - The Justice League hearing about Batman and assuming he (& his family) are demons or vampires or some other cryptid, and then meeting him and finding out he’s just Some Guy.

 - The batfamily learning the origin of the name Robin

- The Justice League meeting the Batfamily and specifically learning who Red Hood is, and one of the heroes nervously asks “Didn’t the second Robin.. die?” and Jason just goes “yeah lol”

Edit // If ur seeing this original post by itself, I already posted a fic rec list related to these tropes :)

[qlossytbh]

im so FUCKING stupid and i accidentally forgot to add tags and i deleted the anon request this fic was inspired from so i will paste it here

“Could you please write one about having a team night round Rossi's but you and Spencer had had an argument before so it was tense between the pair of you so you try and flirt with one of the out of town agents to try and get his attention?”

𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧- 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you and Spencer don’t usually get along due to your constant fights to prove who was better. But when the two of you are paired on a case together, hidden feelings start to arise towards the surface.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 enemies to lovers type beat (?), academic rivals (?), fem!reader, typical criminal minds content, jealous spence, mentions of a guy that gets a little too handsy

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 4.6k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i get a little carried away with request oops. i don’t think this is exactly what you were asking for but

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had come to no one's attention that you and Spencer were fighting— again..

The BAU team was currently hunting down a murderer that was attacking teenagers at a local campus in the city of Chicago, and all that Reid seemed to be doing these past few days was getting on your nerves.

Wether it was searching the crime scene, analyzing the possible behavioral patterns of the UnSub, or setting down a profile, you and Reid could not stop bickering, driven solely off the desperation of beating each other with whoever could piss the other off more.

You thought Spencer had this aggravatingly, annoying need to prove he was always so much smarter than everyone else, using his wide variety of big intellectual words just to show off.

He, on the other hand, truly couldn't stand how you'd always butt into every conversation you deemed necessary attempting to seem smarter just to get yourself on top of a case. Your ego had been Spencer's main problem across these past few months, but it was slowly driving him off the wall and he found that with each passing day, he was finding it harder to work with you.

The initial conflict seemed irrelevant right now— something about Spencer purposely embarrassing you in front of the the team back when you had just started out in the BAU. Even if it was unintentional, the anger stuck.

You had been so embarrassed, feeling your insides pool with irritation as you questioned why he felt the necessity to correct you so publicly— in front of people you still didn't know.

With time, it slowly morphed into a constant competition to prove who was smarter, quicker on their feet, more widely intellectual than the other, always finding ways to one up each other in conversations— anything.

You were smart and you couldn’t blame him for seeing you as a competition the second you stepped foot into the BAU.

The rest of the team was growing sick of the two of you always whining and bickering. It could be the smallest, stupidest fights— or something so weighty, the two of you wouldn’t speak for days.

However, the two of you got into a fight yesterday when landing in Chicago.

It had been stupid

It started when you "accidentally" slammed the taxi door in his face, genuinely not realizing he was getting out of the cab on the same side you were, even though a side of you thought he deserved much more than a slammed door to the face.

Later on in the day a heavier argument spewed, given since he accused you of being ‘unprofessional’, which had incredibly pissed you off. It was the one thing that truly got to you, and Spencer knew this.

Since then, none of you had spoken to each other and the rest of the team could practically feel the tension. Hotch rounded the table, pressing his hands together.

"So, let's lay it all out," Hotch announced. "Who's starting?”

You and Spencer both volunteered simultaneously. You shot a glare in his direction, which he easily disregarded as he stood from his seat at the table

"So far, we know were looking for a male between the age of 20-25," You cross your arms across your chest and look over at the board with a huff, accepting your defeat.

Your eyes scanned through the evidence and pictures at hand. While Spencer continued his analysis, hands shoved deep into his pockets, you squinted at the words scribbled onto the case file. "The killer seems to have a target preference given how all four victims have been female college students between the ages of 18-24"

"So, do we know which kind of killer were dealing with here?" Morgan asked, flipping through the case files.

"If I'm not mistaken, the last victim presented a alteration in the Unsub’s M.O in comparison to what we've been observing so far, which could ultimately mean we could be dealing with a disorganized offender acting out on—" He stated, turning towards the board, but when your eye caught a part of information in the file, you were quick to interrupt.

"Actually, you are mistaken," You reached over, grabbing the file in front of you in one swift movement and flipped the page as you stood to your feet. Spencer froze and turned towards you.

"Excuse me?" He inquired, clearly unamused at your antics. You briefly looked up at him, only sparing him a brief glance.

"You're wrong. The Unsub isn't disorganized," You jutted your chin towards the board. "We're actually dealing with an organized offender."

Morgan glanced over at JJ, quietly cursing to himself knowing that this was probably payback and not heading in any favorable direction.

"Sure, this specific victim wasn't as calculated and precise as the other," You started. "Up until now, the Unsub seemed to be killing all of these girls with long, tedious methods, such as torturing them, which clearly shows us he feels no remorse and actually finds pleassure out of killing them. Organized crimes are premeditated and carefully planned, so that would explain why we found little to no evidence at the scene yesterday and organized criminals, according to the classification scheme, can tell right from wrong—"

"—But our buddy here doesn't care," Morgan finished off, looking up at you. With a nod, you continued

"Precisely. The pattern of our victims also leads us to believe that he's seeaking some sort of revenge on the girls, since they're all from the same background." You pointed to a few post-it notes on the board. "Right here it says that all four girls belonged to the same frat house on campus—"

"Yet our recent victim did not," Spencer butted in with a shurg, facing you smugly. With an unamused glance, you took two warning steps towards him, maintaining your composure.

"Well, Dr. Reid, if you read the autopsy report you'd see that the newest victim died from a blunt force to the head," Annoyed was an understatement as to what you were feeling towards him at that precise moment. Your eyes narrowed while you managed to keep on the most innocent smile you could. "That means that the attack was out of some unplanned rage, which caused him to lashout and therefore break his regime."

You took one more step towards Reid, suddenly dangerously close to him. Intimidating people wasn’t something that came hard, much less with Spencer.

Something inside you fed off that vast satisfaction that arose when he'd get activated with you. Seeing his breaths go shallow, his whole posture to stiffen along with the habitual furrow in his brows felt like your daily dosis of serotonin.

"If you payed more attention to these case files, you'd also see that the newest victims was our previous victims best friend, so there still is a connection just not the one you've been blindly looking for.”

With that you slapped the files into his chest and stepped back, referring back over to the board.

Spencer gapped at you, opening his mouth before clamping it shut immediately. He fumbled, grappling at the papers on his chest and looking down at them in embarrassment. You felt yourself smile with satisfaction at how his movements became sloppy. "I— I would've said that if you let me finish my analysis and let me actually read these papers."

"Or you can just admit you're slow—"

"So!" JJ butted in, quickly cutting off whatever fight was about to implode in-front of them. "We’re looking for someone connected throughout the campus that would somehow want some sort of revenge on these girls? Correct?"

"Yes." You and Spencer stated simultaneously. You bit back a comment, swiping your tongue against your lower lip, annoyance filling every single nerve in your body while he let out a noise similar to a scoff.

"Here's the plan then," Hotch said, ignoring the two of you. "Prentiss and I will give the Chicago police force the profile. Morgan and JJ, deal with collecting possible witnesses; anyone at that campus who knows anything that may deem useful."

You stood, glancing over at Spencer. When he met your eyes you quickly looked away, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

"Reid, Y/L/N," Hotch said, finally acknowledging the two of you with a steady gaze. "You two will assigned search the crime scene to see if any evidence was left behind—just protocol checking, but we need to be sure nothing was left unseen."

You opened and closed your mouth, intending to protest about the pairing but deciding strongly otherwise.

With the intention to remain professional you nodded in agreement. As hard as you found to do so, you waited patiently for the other members of the team to draining the room until only you, Morgan, JJ, Spencer were left collecting the remaining of your things.

As Morgan was grabbing a few of his things with JJ patiently waiting by his side, you walked up to her with a devious smile. "Hey Jayj, wanna change partners?"

"I am right here." Spencer answered.

"I dont care," You shot back, causing him to angrily shove more of his files into his satchel. You turned back to Morgan, practically ready to get onto your knees and beg him for sympathy. "Please Morgan, trade with me— I'm begging you."

"We don’t get to choose who we get paired with,” He started, looking down at you unamused. Your face fell, deadpanning at your friend.

“If you're going to complain about being paired with Reid none of us wanna hear it," Morgan groaned, dragging a hand across his face. You opened your mouth to protest, but he rudely cut you off by pointing an accusitory finger at you. "The two of you have been yapping at eachother faces since we got here."

"We have not!" You both shouted in unison. You angrily turning around to face Spencer, warning him with a glare. “Stop that!"

"It's always something with the two of you," JJ shook her head in disappointment. "You're lucky you two are the smartest members on the team cause we would've had you seperated months ago,"

JJ finished grabbing her things and glared at the two of you. Morgan grabbed his things as well, before turning to you. "Either you sort out all of this sexual tension you've got going on or you keep your mouths shut and get along!"

"What!?" You gaped, taking aback by Morgan's accusations. "Thats not—We dont—"

You fumbled with your words as your cheeks grew hot. You stammered, trying to hit back with something, but inevitably found your mind blank. You huffed, snatching your bag and rushing towards the exit of the conference room "I hate you."

"No you don't princess." Morgan stated as you walked past him and shoved his arm.

"And you boy genius," Morgan said looking at Spencer and tossed her bag across her shoulder. "That goes for you too, either get laid, or shut up."

With that, they left the room leaving a sputtering and angry Spencer struggling to regain his composure after the absurdity that had left his collegues mouth. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and grabbed his final things, leaving the room in a frenzy.

You pulled the cars ignition once you pulled the car into the Campus buildings entrance. You put the car in park as you umblucked your seatbelt, which Spencer started doing not long after you had, following your suit. The ride had been completely silent, none of you wanted to speak to eachother, worrying that if you did another argument would start.

All he did during the ride was read some of the case files while you intently focused on the road. Your hands gripped tightly at the steering wheel and every once and a while you'd sneak small glances at him— not because you cared or anything, you just wanted to see how much more information he was getting ahead of you with.

The building was secluded off to the public and the entrance was swarmed with countless police officers and agents. As you climbed out of the car, you pulled your glasses onto the top of your head and slammed the door in one swift motion. By the time you got to Spencers side of the door, he was still inside slowly collecting his things, which pissed you off. You waited impatiently for him to climb out with a huff.

For what seemed to feel like forever, he finally opened the car door and started to climb out as you waited impatienly. "You look like you're doing that on purpose."

"Getting out of the car? Yeah, I am actually" He stated, finally stepping out. A snide remark came up your throat but wasn't able to leave your mouth given how Spencer towered over you once he strightened himself out.

He unintentionally stepped way too close for your personal preference, but your boundaries melted somewhere in your consciousness.

You craned your head back just slightly, allowing yourself to look into his eyes. Spencer swallowed thickly, suddenly painfully aware of how close the two of you were. An unfamiliar voice reeled the two of you back to reality. "Dr. Y/L/N?"

You practically jumped, swallowing down the urge to yelp. You stepped away from Spencer, blinking rapidly as you cleared your throat. "Uh yes!—“

"Thats, uhm, me—“ You slipped your glasses off and put them into your bag anxiously. "Dr. Y/L/N."

You turned to the Agent in front of you, who held his hand out with an irksomely pearly white smile. You gazed at the man, and you had to admit he was easy on the eyes— a little too stereotypically attractive for your taste.

"I'm Agent Mirthwood, head of the Chicago police department, Aaron Hotchner specified you'd be here to help with the case," You took his hand and shook it. "Wasnt expecting a doll like you."

Spencer didnt miss the way his eyes raked across your body, taking in every part of you with careful detail. You were wearing a silk black button up, along with a blazer that matched the skirt that hugged your skin tightly. Spencer would have to be blind to ignore how every piece of clothing you had on hugged every inch of your curves perfectly, so obviously, whoever this guy was, he was going to be staring.

How couldnt he?

You laughed nervously and Spencer, despite his profiler background, couldn't tell if it was becasue you were uncomfrotable or flattered. Either possibilities made his skin crawl.

"Charming," You noted, not really wanting to give him any more material to chew at. "So, mind leading the way?"

"Not at all." He grinned, placing his hand on your lower back and guiding you towards the building. Spencer followed behind pathetically, feeling his hands clench and his jaw tighten while he watched the guys hand linger where they didn't belong.

Once inside the building, you and Spencer looked around your surroundings, checking over a few areas of the marked numbers and rerunning the supposed series of events in your heads. "This is where the first victim tried escaping,"

You and Spencer simultaneously looked over to the glass window that had been merely cracked. "Can't believe how a murder took place and the campus director didn't even close the place down for more than five days."

"Agent Mirthwood, you said that the floor above us was where Anya Colins was murdered, correct?" You asked, looking over towards the locker. Spencer stood beside you with his hands shoved into his pocket.

"Over in classroom seven, yes” He responded. His eyes flickered towards the pop of your hip. “Call me Ben,"

You looked over your shoulder momentarily, shooting him a polite smile. Spencer bored his eyes into the side of the agents face, slyly enough so that he wouldn’t notice.

"Could it be possible that we take a look across the flooring, you know, check inside any of the clases for some clues we may have missed?" You said, lifting your chin and facing Agent Mirthwood. He smiled bumptiously at you.

"Why I'd be delighted to accompany you and help you look out for whatever it is you're looking for—"

"Actually," Spencer butted in, somewhat protectively if you let yourself assume— given how the tone of his voice had grown territorial. "Hotchner specifically implied we stick together as the pair we were assigned, and we usually work best when just the two of our heads are looking around."

You furrowed your brows, looking up at Spencer with confusion. His tone alarmed you momentarily, and at first you wanted to grow defensive because who was he to boss you around?

You took in the familiar line-out of his clenched jaw and how his shoulders broadened ever so slightly. You noticed he had chosen to stand between you and Agent Mirthwood, and suddenly it dawned you and hit you harder than a ton of bricks.

Spencer Reid was jealous.

Despite the weird feeling nagging at your chest, you couldn't contain how a smug smile began to appear onto your face. Somehow this newfound information cave you a newfound cockiness— you finally found something you knew had the upper hand on.

"Actually Ben," You dodged Spencer, making a B-line for the broad man you had only recently met. You tried looking as innocent as you possibly could, the look you always used to get men right into the corner you needed them in. "I'd actually love having your company. I'm gonna need someone watching over me up there."

Spencer froze, looking back and forth as the darkness in this guys eyes only increased and suddenly— he panicked. Spencer was panicking because he genuinely thought you were going to leave with Agent Mirthwood and he wouldn't be able to watch over you or him, or anything you did with him—

Then he saw it. The way you turned, shooting him a challenging glare over your shoulder towards him.

"You wouldn't mind, would you Dr. Reid?"

“I—“ His fists tightened as he stared at you, stunned. Something underneath his gaze was warning you that you were pushing him close to his limits and you loved it.

“One of the victims was attacked up there and then dragged herself all the way down here,” You watched the agent explain broadly.

“That must’ve been horrible,” You added an almost feather like gasp to your words. He knew damn well that you knew what this officer was saying was nothing but false due to how the crime scene was framed.

“Yeah,” Ben took a step closer to you and Spencer couldn't even stop himself when he pried through, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him territorially.

“Bosses order. The rest of you keep looking around to see if anything looks out of place."

Spencer dragged you all the way up the stairs and into the empty hallway on the second floor. You struggled to keep up, complaining pretty vocally that your heels were screwing up your rhythm, especially in comparison to his long and hurried strides. You finally dug the palm of your foot into the ground and yanked your arm away.

"What the hell is your deal!?" You clamored, knowing you had him cornered. He turned, pushing his lips into a straight line and looking at you in complete silence.

“My deal!?" He shot back suddenly, gesturing towards you in an exasperated motion. “You barely know the man and you're willing to walk somewhere with him alone..!”

You scoffed. "Oh please, like coming up here with you is any better."

"You don't run the risk of getting potentially murdered by me." He said, trying to prove his point.

"You sure about that?"

Spencer looked at you and something shifted behind his eyes. Your face was furrowed with nothing but pure anger as you huffed widely. Spencer opened his mouth and closed it once again, hesitating whether to say what he was about to.

"You're being unprofessional." He blankly stated. Your mouth fell agape.

There was that fucking word again— You felt about ready to murder him. There was adrenaline coursing through every nerve of your body at this point.

“What did you say?” You almost whispered.

“I said you’re being unprofessional.” He stated nonchalantly. You gaped at him before tightening your fist and resisting the urge to punch the crap out of that smug look.

“I’m unprofessional?!”

“Yes,”

“That’s because you’re making it hard for me to work with you!”

He rolled your eyes at you and became indignant.

“Stop doing that!” You barked.

“Im not doing anything,”

“You keep treating me like im stupid,” You pointed a finger at him. “Stop acting like you’re so much better than me when you are not.”

Spencer clamped his mouth shut, seeing you blaze with anger. “Ben would be a way better company than you,”

“Why do you keep saying his name like that?”

You huffed. “Like what?”

“Like—“ Spencer stopped, sucking in a sudden breath as if he hasn’t been breathing since he walked up here with you. “Never mind,”

You scoffed. “No come on,”

You took a dangerous step towards Spencer, now only a few inches away from his face. “Say it,”

“Because I think Ben, pissed you off the most when he had his hands on my—“

Spencer quickly grabbed your face in between both his hands and slammed his mouth onto yours. You inhaled visiously through your nose as you melted immediately under his touch.

Everything froze right then and there as he pulled away quicker than he had leaned in. Your face still remained cupped gently in his hands while your grip was tight on both his wrists as you stared at him, mouth low in shock. A shaky breath left his mouth, and fear was pooling around in his eyes.

You could feel your own chest heaving as you looked back and forth at his eyes, still not grasping what had just happened between the two of you. Spencer towered over your small frame, holding you as if you were the most fragile thing in the room. It felt like there was a rope pulling between the two of you and it was right about to break. His thumb grazed your bottom lip and you could practically hear the chord snap.

All the anger drained your body instantly as you caught yourself pulling him onto your mouth with just as much desperation as he had previously done. Your movements were hurried and frantic, as if both of you were scared that at any point this new found standing point would stop disappear and distance would be put between the two of you. The last thing you wanted was for his body to be any farther away from you than it currently was, and not understanding why you suddenly felt that way, angered you even more.

His mouth hungrily moved against yours as his grip on your face tightened. Your hands snaked their way into the back of his soft curls and pulled at them roughly, emitting a groan from his mouth onto yours.

Out of all the times you'd provoked a groan from Spencer Reid, this had been your all time favorite.

In frantic movements, Spencer pushed you against the nearest wall, hearing a rough thud come from behind you but never once disconnecting your lips from his. His hips pushed against your in one rash motion, causing you to whimper softly against his lips, which reached the deepest parts of him

His hands traveled anywhere and everywhere you'd let them. They ran down your waist and stopped at your hips giving them a rough squeeze which only caused you to squirm once again and pull at his hair ever rougher.

Everything was messy and hurried but so unexplainably wonderful.

"Tell me to stop and I will," He muttered over your lips.

"Don't—“ You warned, panting desperately for him to grab you in ways you could have only dreamt about. You needed to feel his hands rake across your body as if he owed it. “Please, don’t”

Spencer’s heart shuddered as he could visibly hear the desperation in your voice. How you were practically begging for this just as much as he had been. How you melted under his touch so effortlessly.

Before Spencer could move any further, a voice cut the two of you off. “Hey, guys!”

You pushed Spencer off yourself with a little more urgency than you had initially intended. You ran your hands through your hair frantically and pushed your skirt down, which had accidentally— not so accidentally— been pushed up. Spencer on the other hand, settled with a simple, subtle gesture of grazing the corner of his lip to remove some of the nude pink lipstick that had smudge a bit onto his face.

He cleared his voice before turning to whoever had called out, but before he could say anything you quickly interjected. “Morgan? JJ? What are you doing here?”

Spencer could’ve allowed himself to smile at the sound of the quiver in your voice and how your body was still distraught by the adrenaline.

Morgan eyed the two of you and it didn’t take any time at all for him to realize what had happened. The shuffled hair, the puffy lips along with all the wrinkled clothes. Not to mention how both of your chests heaved heavily.

“We have an advance on the case but it seems like you two are busy with something…” JJ stated, looking over at Morgan from the side of his eye.

“Or someone,” He added. You tried to find some sort of defense in your favor but came up with none. You didn’t want to even look Spencer in the eye, so you quickly turned and headed for the staircase, when you approached Morgan, he whistled lowly.

“Someone got a piece of genius boy and enjoyed it—“ You smacked the back of his head.

“Hey!” He groaned, looking back at you while you strutted down the stairs, barely being able to keep your balance steady.

i am planing on doing a spicy part two😝

[arcanegifs]

fuckgirl cait and loverboi vi you will always be special to me

[thatskindarough]

I’m not sure about anyone else but I personally have a pretty hard time finding Aziraphale centric fics. Crowley centric fics are really easy to find, stuff that splits C/A evenly is also pretty easy to find.

So I think we should start a thread of Aziraphale centric fics (or at least ones where he gets to take a major role in.)

I’ll go first:

These are the Soul by Mikripetra—This is my comfort fic I love it with my entire being.

Starmaker and Starlight by Nohaljiachi—This one just made me very happy then very sad. It focuses on Aziraphale before the beginning, coming to be friends with the starmaker (angel Crowley)

Prax In Terris —by Oatmeal Addiction I love this one because it captures the spirit of good omens perfectly. Genuinely if s3 was a fanfiction this (and the other fic in this series) is what I’d want it to be. Now it is not exactly Aziraphale centric, it does split time pretty evenly with Crowley and Muriel, but I love Aziraphale’s role in this, and he gets to be really interesting and stubborn. (Maybe not for all readers who dislike face value interpretations of the FF though.) It’s a wip about the second coming and I’m very curious where the author is gonna take it.

If you want, please feel free to add any Aziraphale centric fics to this post and also please shamelessly self-rec your own fics

(Edited to add the author names and also to say thank you for everyone recommending things, it makes me and I’m sure other Aziraphale fans very happy!)

[ash-and-starlight]

“Zuko?” He put a finger under the seneschal’s nose, rested the back of his hand against Zuko’s cheek. A puff of air, a touch of warmth. Sokka could have sobbed out of relief, and when he registered the emotion it frightened him. 

The Mercy of Magpies Ch 6 out now!!

this is your sign to go read about hot middle aged men on the brink of deat <333 brought to you by the incomparable @ranilla-bean and betaed by @faux-fires

Chapter Post || Cover || Map and Characters || Ch 2 || Ch 3.1 || Ch 3.2 || Ch.4 || Ch 5.1 || Ch 5.2

[thearchercore]

recently read the lestappen lemans teammates fic and i gotta say there's something about charles and max leaving f1 and still feeling like something's off about their lives outside of it just to realize deep down they just miss each other, like that trope just HITS

[wanderinggoddess]

more silly crossdressing merlin, inspired by misrule and red velvet & almond blossom

[urdepressedslut]

You’re Mine, Sunshine ❝part five❞

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Getting to know each other better doesn’t go according to plan. Bucky has to comfort you and fix the mess he made. Will you forgive him?

♡ Warnings: self hate, mentions of parent death/family death, panic attack, heavy angst, fluff, literally sobbing i love them

Part 6

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au

It was almost becoming a mantra, reminding himself daily that he needed to keep things strictly professional. He just didn’t realize how hard it would be. You were so easy to be around, it was a different change of pace with you, he felt he could actually think— slow his mind down around you.

He had tried to digest the thought many times.

I could be her friend, nothing more.

Would it be unprofessional though? He tries to think how Pierce would react to that. He feels completely and utterly confused— the devil and angel on his shoulders battling constantly.

Even then, he was already a bad friend— if that. He was keeping something from you— something extreme. He had caught himself thinking of where you could be in the house— the part of him deep down wanting to tell you. He knew he should, but he knew that’s not what Pierce wanted. If anything, Bucky didn’t want to mess anything up— or he’d never see you again. The thought shouldn’t of scared him as much as it did, but he didn’t like it.

That’s where he found himself in the bathroom of his room, staring into his own eyes through the reflection. He had showered and caught himself trying to find a nice shirt amongst his clothes— immediately he stopped. He had to take a moment to take a deep breath and remind himself how ridiculous he was being.

It had been so long since he actually cared about his appearance. But as he was scanning every line and wrinkle on his face in the mirror— he knew he was doomed. Suddenly he felt insecure, and for once it wasn’t about his arm. His mind was consumed with the thought if he was good enough. While he felt overwhelmed, because he had never worried about such a thing. Well, in awhile at least.

You had kept yourself busy in the library for most of the day, and while you looked to be buried into the books— your thoughts were of him. You couldn’t ignore the giddy feeling that his words gave you— his want to get to know you better. Maybe, just maybe— he wanted to be your friend.

Just as you were about to get up and leave to seek out Bucky, you heard the sound of the library doors opening. A smile worked its way onto your face, excited to see him— though you had just seen him not that long ago.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the space, and soon revealed a handsome looking Bucky. Your mouth hung slightly open, his appearance looking sharper than usual. He was wearing his classic black shirt, and had the black leather jacket over— along with his jeans that hugged him just right in all the areas. He wasn’t dressed all that different, so why did he look so good.

You cleared your throat and broke your stare— yes he looked good. But you shouldn’t stare.

“You look great James, I wish I would’ve put something better on.” You laughed nervously, looking down at your t-shirt and shorts— along with your different colored socks.

Bucky on the other hand, thought you looked fine. He was pretty sure you could wear pretty much anything and look good in it. He also shook off your compliment, thinking you were just being sweet like you always were.

“You look fine, (Y/n).” He assured you.

Truthfully, standing here in front of you now— Bucky wants nothing more than to go back upstairs, choosing to avoid getting to know you better. He wasn’t sure why his walls were coming down so easily, but he hated it. Oh he hated it— he hated you.

“So…” You started, walking back to your seat. Bucky followed after and took his spot from the nights before. “I know this kinda takes the fun out of this but— I had a list of questions.”

Bucky shook his head but chuckled lowly, not surprised at all.

“Of course you do.” He acknowledged, and you scratched the back of your neck nervously.

“Uh— but there are rules! I made them up of course— but there aren’t many.” You rushed out, sitting crisscrossed in your seat.

Bucky exhaled annoyed, but couldn’t really argue otherwise. This was his idea. Was it to distract you from going out? Yes. But a part of him really did want to get to know you better.

“Alright, what’s the rules?” He asked, crossing his leg over the other— leaning back in his seat.

“Okay the first one— you have to answer the question that’s asked, no matter what.” You told him, watching him raise his eyebrows.

“Easy.”

You giggled, remembering how fast the conversation ended last time because he didn’t want to answer. This would be harder than he thought— but you wouldn’t call him out on it.

“Second rule— Can’t ask dumb questions.” You told him, and he chuckled again.

“That’s the second rule?” He chuckled, and you nodded your head.

“Yup.” You confirmed, “Okay— who should go first?”

You were ready to jump right into it, while Bucky was still thinking about your rules— rethinking his decision to do this.

“Why don’t you start doll, since you apparently have a list.” He spoke sarcastically, and you couldn’t stop the heat from rising to your cheeks at the nickname.

He never called you that before, and you didn’t know what to think of it.

“Um… okay yeah,” You thought about your first question, deciding to go easy on him at first, “What’s something you like to do on your free time?”

Bucky squinted his eyes, expecting a more personal question from you. He also had to think for a second— what did he like to do? He used to have hobbies at one time, but he couldn’t recall any in the moment. He felt he was a pretty boring person. There was one thing.

“I like to read sometimes.” He answered, and you smiled at that.

“Really? You don’t seem to spend a lot of time in the library for someone who likes to read.” You joked— knowing he was rather busy with his job as a bodyguard.

“Well, if I had free time— I’d probably be here.” He pointed out, slowly melting into his seat, his muscles relaxing against the couch.

“Okay your turn.” You told him.

Bucky didn’t want to admit it, but he as well had a list of questions for you. Things he was dying to know about you.

“What do you want to do in the future?” He asked, and you looked at him with furrowed brows.

“Huh?”

“What’s your dream job— like, what do you want to do for the rest of your life? Besides read.” He added at the end, making you giggle.

You thought about your answer for a moment, smiling to yourself when you came up with one.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever stay in one spot, there’s so much I want to do. But whatever happens, I wanna volunteer places. I want to help people— help them heal, cope. I just wanna do good.” You explained happily.

Bucky was not surprised by your answer by the slightest— of course you wanted to be helpful. It only made sense with your bubbly personality. He cleared his throat, fighting down a smile.

“Your turn again.”

You nodded and took a second to think of a question again, closing your eyes in thought. An idea popped into your head and you were hesitant about it. Last time you’d brought it up— he left.

“What’s your family like?” You asked anyway, keeping your voice soft in hopes he’d feel more comfortable.

Bucky tensed immediately and just glared at you for a second. His jaw clenched, and his eyes squinted at you. He was annoyed at you pestering him with this question— he’d answer every single one but this one. He’d play dirty if you were.

“My family… isn’t around anymore.” He answered quietly, his anger lacing his words.

His tone had you swallowing nervously, and deep down you regretted asking him. You didn’t mean any harm by the question, and you immediately felt bad. Your heart hurt for him, the way he didn’t have a family.

“I— James I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t o—”

You tried to apologize but got cut off.

“My turn.” He interrupted, sitting up in his seat now. His whole body tense again, his relaxed muscles no more. “Why does your Father hate you?”

He couldn’t stop himself from letting the words out, but as soon as they passed his lips— he was ashamed of himself. His face softened immediately at your face dropping, the way your fingers started to fiddle anxiously with the hem of your shirt.

You were shocked— at a loss for words. You probably deserved his anger, but you weren’t expecting such a harsh question. You felt your chest tighten, and suddenly you weren’t in denial anymore. Everything you’d ever thought— the nights you wondered if your Father really did hate you. You pushed away with a laugh, knowing he could never. But now as someone else witnessed it, and pointed it out. It ought to be true— and you felt sick.

“Um… He’s just having a h-hard time with the passing of my…” You tried to take a deep breath, feeling your throat tighter than usual. “Hard time with my mothers passing is all.”

You repeated from the first day meeting him. Your head pounded— your ears thumping loudly. Your fingers were numb and you felt like you couldn’t swallow.

Were you having an allergic reaction to something?

You tried to take another deep breath and felt your chest stop expanding. Your eyes widened in panic for a second.

Bucky felt so shitty— he couldn’t control himself for a simple question. The fact that you had answered it anyway broke his heart. He watched as your eyes darted around, in search of help. The way he could start to hear your breathing— the way you were beginning to wheeze.

“(Y/n), you ok—”

“Excuse m-me for a s-second.” You rushed out, stumbling out of your chair and towards the library doors.

Bucky was concerned for you, standing up immediately to go follow you. He was so ashamed of himself, angry that he let himself lose control like that. He had sensitive topics that just brought up a defensive side in him. The image of your face as soon as he had said the words was burned into his brain. You didn’t deserve that— you had been nothing be sweet since you two had met.

Making it up the stairs, he started down the hallway— body tensing in alert at the sight of you sitting up against the hallway wall. He rushed forward, kneeling down to your curled up form, scanning over you for injuries.

“(Y/n), what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He asked frantic, he noticed your hand clutching the area above your heart.

You shook your head, but seemed confused— and only panicked more when you couldn’t get the words out right away.

“I c-can’t breathe!” You wheezed out, your hand not clutching your chest— reaching out to grab onto Bucky.

You held onto him like he was your lifeline.

“I-I think I’m having a-an allergic reaction.” You panted, fisting Bucky’s sleeve in panic.

Bucky didn’t know it was possible for his heart to break anymore— but he swore he heard the cracking sound. He felt it drop to his stomach, his own throat tightening with emotions. You were having a panic attack— and it was because of him. You had no idea, and yet here you were still clinging onto him when he was the cause of it all. He was disgusted with himself.

“(Y/n)— you’re not having an allergic reaction. You’re having a panic attack.” He explained to you clearly, holding onto your shoulders, trying to bring you comfort.

You nodded in understanding, feeling lightheaded from lack of oxygen to the brain. Tears began to escape your eyes, you felt helpless— you felt like you were dying.

“James…” You whimpered, “I’m s-scared!”

Again, he felt his non existent heart break again— falling into his stomach. He felt sick watching this go down, wanting nothing more than for this all to be a nightmare.

He had experience with panic attacks and luckily knew what to do— he just couldn’t get over the fact that he caused it.

He grabbed your hand fisting his sleeve and put it above his heart. You lifted your flushed face, your bloodshot eyes watching your hand. You could feel the strong thump of his heartbeat, the feeling soothing against your palm.

“I want you to try and breathe with me, okay? I want you to match my heartbeat. You feel it?” He asked you softly, his voice gentle like honey.

You nodded your head, trying to focus on slowing your breathing— stop your chaotic mind from spiraling.

“In… and out— In… and out.” He started breathing, and you struggled to match him at first, but as your eyes met with his— you felt your heartbeat start to match his rhythm.

His eyes were comforting and warm. You felt safe in his hold— and you could already start to feel your everything relaxing.

“Good, just keep breathing with me. I’ve got you— you’re gonna be okay.” He assured you, rubbing your shoulders up and down soothingly.

You knew you’d be risking it, but you slowly moved forward— wrapping your arms around his bulky frame.

Bucky tensed up at first, a part of him knowing he should push you away— this wasn’t professional. But he knew he couldn’t— not after what he did. He relaxed, and wrapped his arms hesitantly around your back, hugging you tight against him. He could feel your quick heartbeat thumping competitively against his. He could feel your breath fanning his neck— as you rested your chin in the crook of his neck.

He hadn’t felt such affection in so long— he had missed how much he craved the protection— the security he felt being in someone’s arms.

Now, in Bucky’s hold— you felt at peace. You knew he’d never let anything happen to you. You still trusted him with your life.

“Doll,” You smiled weakly into his neck, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t of asked you that— I’m an asshole.”

You held onto him tighter— enjoying the embrace while you had it. You were sure it would never happen again.

“It’s okay James, I’m sorry too.” You weakly replied, your body drained of energy. “Thank you, I feel a lot better now.”

He wanted to scoff. You wanted to thank him for helping you out of a mess that he caused. You had the right to scream, punch, kick him. But he knew you’d never do that— and that’s what killed him.

He didn’t know how to respond to your thanks, and stayed silent instead. Holding onto you— never intending to let go until you did first.

“I’m tired James.” You mumbled sleepily.

“I’ve got you doll.” He whispered, easily standing with you in his arms.

He slowly and carefully carried you to your room, setting you down gently onto your bed. He was having déjà vu— memories of when he first carried you to bed that one night.

He lifted the covers, tucking you in. He watched you for a second, examining your face like you were a piece of art. His eyes danced all the way from your chin— passed your lips— to your eyes. Before he could stop himself, he was reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair out of your face. You sighed and leaned into his touch, and this time— he didn’t fight the smile down. He gazed down at you warmly, genuinely smiling for the first time in awhile.

“Stay with me.” You mumbled sleepily, just as you had wanted to that one night.

Bucky took a deep breath, staring down at you with sudden tenderness. He shook his head, ridding his mind of the thought.

“Okay.” He told you, watching you give a small smile in your sleep. Snuggling your face into the pillow.

Although both of you didn’t really get to scratch off every question of each others list— you both felt more connected after today. You just wanted someone, someone constant in your life. Bucky needed more light in his life— like you.

You both needed each other more than you realized.

🤍 taglist is officially closed for this series 🤍

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[unabashegirl]

Enticing 49 — ceo hs

Harry, a private billionaire and devoted father, hires Y/N as his son's nanny. Her kindness stirs unexpected feelings. Will love overcome his guarded life, a jealous girlfriend, and the mystery of Oliver's mother?

Author's note: Yesterday, I thought I hadn't posted chapter 48, but I noticed I had posted the same chapter twice after a fellow follower pointed it out. Thank you for letting me know.

⭐️ I'm still trying to gather $1600 to pay for my medical school. Please consider donating it. I'm desperate. I would really appreciate it. --> Ko-Fi ☕️

⭐️ I’ve created a Patreon collection with ALL the chapters of Enticing available for $15 (54 posts). This is an option for those who are tired of waiting and want instant access. Otherwise, the usual $3 subscription is still available with access to the other one shots.😊 ----> Patreon

⭐️ --> enticing masterlist <---

It was a damp and chilly day in the heart of New York City, a late November afternoon pregnant with the promise of impending festivities. Christmas lurked just around the corner, casting its enchanting glow over the city that never sleeps. Harry, having just ventured home from the office, found himself stepping into an apartment that echoed with the quiet hum of transition.

The majority of their possessions lay encased in cardboard, snugly packed away, anticipating the journey to a new residence. Y/N's apartment, a temporary sanctuary, had been earmarked for a new role as a vacation rental property. The couple was poised to relocate to their new abode before the advent of Christmas, and certainly before the arrival of their imminent bundle of joy.

Harry, as he traversed the threshold, observed the in-between state of their living space—a tableau caught between the echoes of the past and the whispers of the future. The walls, witnesses to laughter and shared secrets, seemed to murmur tales of times gone by.

The living room, bereft of its usual assortment of trinkets, projected a curious amalgamation of unfamiliarity and warmth. A solitary chair, adorned with a throw that had borne witness to countless movie nights and stolen kisses, beckoned in solitude. The room, now devoid of life's chaos, stood as an expectant canvas, yearning for the brushstrokes of a new chapter.

In the kitchen, once alive with the aroma of shared meals, the dance of packing materials and neatly folded dishcloths unfolded. The refrigerator, once a tapestry of joyous memories held in place by magnets, now stood bare. Yet, within this emptiness lay the promise of a blank canvas, ready to be adorned with fresh memories.

Harry, feeling a sudden yearning for connection, reached for his phone, dialing the first contact in his favorites. A single ring later, her melodic voice spilled through the receiver.

"Hi honey," she sang, her words a comforting melody.

"Hey. Where are you?" Harry inquired, his eyes wandering to the cityscape outside.

"We're out for a stroll in the park," she replied. "Thought it'd be nice to enjoy the crisp air. And, uh, we might've stopped for some hot chocolate. Oliver insisted.”

"Oliver insisted, huh?" Harry playfully retorted, a smile gracing his lips. The sound of their voices, a lifeline in the midst of change, offered him solace. "I had no idea that Oliver could form full sentences.”

"Alright. It might have to do something with me and his sisters' cravings," she explained, laughter lacing her words.

“How come I wasn’t invited?” Harry asked as he began wrapping a scarf around his neck.

“I thought you would be coming from work late,” she replied. "We're still at the park, wandering around. Would you like to join us?”

“Already on my way.” Harry ended the call, donned his coat, and embarked on a journey to join the two most important people in his life.

As he navigated through the park, the cold air nipping at his cheeks, Harry scanned the surroundings, searching for the familiar figures of his girlfriend and son. The chill seemed to fade in significance against the warmth that swelled within him at the prospect of joining their spontaneous escapade.

Finally, he spotted them near a quaint Christmas market, Y/N cradling Oliver in her arms as they admired the festive decorations. Harry approached with a grin.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, Oliver reaching out towards him with a delighted grin. Harry scooped him up, planting a tender kiss on his rosy cheek. "Hey, little man. How was the hot chocolate?” he inquired after a quick peck on Y/N's lips.

“Yummy. Even though I slightly burned my tongue.” Harry chuckled and reached for the stroller. “How was the office?” Y/N initiated small talk as they navigated the bustling streets.

“Good. I finally had the chance to set up a visit to the office in London, but after our trip to Anguilla.” Harry had orchestrated a week away from the New York hustle before the impending move and the holiday season. Work had taken a toll on him, and he needed a brief respite. “Did you pack already?”

“I did. I even checked that you had packed everything too. You hadn’t packed a swimsuit.”

“That’s insignificant. Could have skinny-dipped,” he quipped, winking at her as she took charge of the stroller. “You ruined the fun.”

“Harry!” she exclaimed, laughter dancing in her eyes. "Let’s stop at the deli. I want to get some things for my mom."

"What time is your mother getting here?" Harry inquired, trailing behind her as she led the way into their local grocery store. Y/N’s mom was set to stay for a week, graciously offering to look after Oliver during their travels. Harry welcomed the gesture with open arms, recognizing it as a chance for Mrs. Johnson to indulge in a well-deserved vacation.

"In about two hours or so. I just want to fully stock the fridge, so she doesn’t have to venture out or do any unnecessary walking," Y/N explained, pulling a shopping cart into position.

With their shopping complete, they made their way to the checkout counter. The cashier greeted them with a friendly smile, scanning each item before placing them in bags. Harry paid for the groceries, and they exited the store, the bell chiming softly once more.

The night air was crisper now, and they huddled together, the warmth of their shared breath creating a cocoon against the cold. Bags in hand, they started the short journey back to their apartment.

As they walked, the city sounds surrounded them—the distant honking of a taxi, the muffled conversations of pedestrians, and the occasional rustling of leaves caught in a gentle breeze. The weight of the bags added a comforting sense of purpose to their steps.

Reaching the apartment building, they rode the elevador, the bags swaying with each movement. Unlocking the door, they stepped into the warmth of their home, the scent of groceries mingling with the familiar fragrance of the apartment.

"Mission accomplished," Harry declared, setting the bags on the kitchen counter. As they unpacked the groceries, the quiet simplicity of the moment settled over them—a shared task, a cozy home, and the promise of moments yet to unfold.

The clock was ticking towards nine in the evening when the security intercom buzzed, signaling the arrival of Elizabeth and Delilah, Y/N's younger sister. Elizabeth had chosen to take the latest train, and a mix of excitement and nerves accompanied her journey. Bringing her daughters together was an endeavor that had tugged at her emotions.

The elevator doors chimed, signaling their arrival on the top floor.

"Y/N?" Elizabeth's voice echoed through the foyer. Y/N swiftly untangled herself from Harry and Oliver, walking briskly to her mother. "Look at you!" Elizabeth exclaimed, enveloping her oldest daughter in a warm embrace. "You are absolutely glowing!"

“I’ve missed you!” Y/N said as she pulled away and then turned to look at her sister.

"Delilah, it's been too long. How have you been?" Y/N's voice carried a genuine sweetness, As Y/N greeted Delilah at the door, there was an undeniable warmth in her eyes, a genuine attempt to bridge the gap that time had created between them.

"Busy, you know how it is," Delilah replied vaguely, avoiding eye contact. The air in the room hung heavy with unspoken tensions, as if the weight of their past differences loomed large. Y/N tried to steer the conversation toward more neutral ground

"Well, we're so glad you could make it. How's school?”

“Fine” Y/N struggled with the tangible discomfort of trying to reconnect with a sister determined to keep an emotional distance. "Is this your house?" Delilah inquired.

"My boyfriend's," Y/N replied.

"I've told you it's just as much yours as it is mine," Harry chimed in, approaching with a drowsy Oliver cradled in his arms. "I am very pleased to finally meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N."

"Please call me Elizabeth, Harry."

"I would shake your hand, but I'm a bit tied up with this one," he said, motioning to the almost one-year-old sleeping in his arms. “Thank you for coming. I am sure it’s not easy to drop work and school for a favor. I’m very grateful”. Elizabeth smiled, “You must be Delilah. It’s nice to meet you too”.

“Thanks” Delilah couldn't help but feel a sense of surprise as her eyes inadvertently lingered on Harry's features. His natural beauty struck her, catching her off guard. The way his curls fell effortlessly, the strong jawline, and the warmth in his eyes all seemed almost too perfect. She had seen her sister with attractive partners before, but there was something distinctly captivating about Harry. It left Delilah momentarily stunned, her initial coldness thawing as she found herself acknowledging the genuine charm of Y/N's boyfriend.

"Come in, please. Dinner is served in the dining room," Harry welcomed them into the living room. "I'm just going to put him to bed, and I'll be back."

"Mom, please leave that there. Harry and I will take it upstairs," Y/N said, observing her mom struggling with her purse, a carry-on, and a duffle bag that appeared to belong to her younger sister.

"Harry and I? You better not be carrying heavy things, Y/N," Elizabeth warned as she placed all the bags beside the staircase.

"I am not," Y/N smiled, gently grabbing her mother's hand, a reminiscent gesture from her childhood. Elizabeth's face lit up with memories as she marveled at her oldest daughter. "I promise," Y/N added, reassuring her mother.

"Pregnancy is really suiting you, honey," Elizabeth commented.

"Are you excited to be a grandma?" Y/N asked, throwing an arm over her mother's shoulders as she guided her towards the dining room.

"I can't wait. Have you guys set a name?"

"Isn't it too soon?"

"You look big enough to have her tomorrow," Delilah remarked under her breath, intentionally hurting Y/N's feelings and confidence. Elizabeth glanced at Delilah with a disapproving look, silently urging her to be more considerate. Y/N, though hurt by the remark, maintained her composure as they all gathered at the dining table. The room was filled with a warm glow from the flickering candles, creating a serene ambiance.

As they settled into their seats, Harry reappeared, having successfully put Oliver to bed. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of Y/N and her family. He was at peace that it had finally happened and that he had been given a second chance, but more importantly that he got the change to finally meet her family.

Dinner was a mix of casual conversation and catching up on the time they had spent apart. Elizabeth, despite her initial reservations, couldn't help but be drawn to Harry's genuine charm and warm hospitality. Delilah, on the other hand, seemed to have a small crush on her sister’s boyfriend.

"So, where are you guys off to?" Elizabeth inquired, savoring a bite of the dark chocolate pie that Y/N had expertly prepared.

"Anguilla. Eastern Caribbean," Harry replied, a warm smile accompanying his words. "Thought it'd be nice to take a little break before the hectic months ahead."

Elizabeth's eyes twinkled with delight. "That's a wonderful idea”.

"We leave tomorrow, but don't worry, the fridge is fully stocked, and I made sure to buy all your favorites," Y/N chimed in, casting a reassuring glance at her mother. Elizabeth chuckled, appreciating the thoughtful gesture.

As the evening progressed, everyone ascended the stairs to the apartment. Harry, gracious and understanding, bid his goodbyes, excusing himself to provide Y/N with a private moment to reconnect with her family.

Y/N, her heart filled with a mix of nostalgia and anticipation, led her mother, Elizabeth, to the guest bedroom overlooking Central Park. "This will be your room, Mom," she announced warmly, pushing the door open to reveal a freshly cleaned space with a picturesque view. "This is the room with the best view. You just wait and see tomorrow." Harry had efficiently brought up the luggage Elizabeth arrived with, and Y/N continued her considerate tour. "There are fresh towels in the bathroom and a robe in case you want to get cozy," she shared, patting down the feather duvet. "Your room is right across, Delilah."

The room Y/N had selected for her sister held a special significance, as it was the very room she once occupied during her time as a nanny. Every detail had been meticulously arranged, with freshly cleaned linens and neatly folded blankets. Elizabeth followed behind, observing her eldest daughter as she removed the numerous decorative pillows from the bed.

"I picked this room for you because the sunrise is from the back, you won't be disturbed by the early sunlight. And, of course, the blackout curtains make it even more comfortable." Y/N explained, gesturing to the window that framed a peaceful view.

However, as the atmosphere settled into a semblance of peace, Delilah seized a moment alone with Y/N to express her disdain. "You seem to be enjoying this domestic scene quite a lot, playing house with your rich boyfriend," she sneered, her tone cutting through the otherwise serene atmosphere. Caught off guard by the sudden hostility, Y/N took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts before responding to her sister's unexpected critique.

As Delilah's sharp words lingered in the air, Y/N felt a wave of discomfort wash over her. Despite the celebratory occasion of her family's visit, Delilah seemed determined to cast a shadow over the reunion. Y/N tried to keep her composure, offering a soft smile and attempting to steer the conversation toward a more positive direction.

"Well, it's not about playing house or being rich," Y/N responded, her voice steady. "Harry and I are building a life together, and we're excited about the future." She chose her words carefully, hoping to diffuse the tension that hung in the room.

Delilah, however, remained unyielding. "Building a life or being carried away in someone else's?" she retorted, her skepticism apparent. Y/N could sense an underlying resentment, a sentiment she hadn't anticipated. The transition from their childhood dynamics to this newfound reality appeared to be a source of contention for Delilah.

“Carried away? I have a job and a career. Sure, Harry probably makes more than me, but that doesn’t mean that I am just a trophy wife or girlfriend in this case”

Delilah's expression remained skeptical, a visible furrow on her brow. "Career or convenience?" she challenged, her tone biting. Y/N took a moment to collect her thoughts, not wanting to escalate the situation further.

"I'm not sure why I'm bothering to explain this to you. It's clear you're too immature to understand or be happy for me. I thought after all this time, you might have changed a bit," Y/N shook her head, frustration evident in her tone. "It's obvious this isn't about me and Harry. This is about what happened a few years ago. It's time to grow up and move on.”

---> Chapter 50

[marzipanandminutiae]

book recs that are like "sapphic vampire enemies to lovers!!!" make me LESS likely to read the book (and I specifically picked those descriptors to be exactly my own reading tastes, to be clear)

that's all good to know! I like knowing it! but tell me. SOME ASPECT. of the plot. I beg you.

a list of representation and tropes is not a book summary

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Dislocated joints are actually very fun whump concepts. Think about it:

First you have the initial injury. Be it a dislocated shoulder, hip, knee, all potential locations are dehibilitating, losing the use of that arm or being unable to walk, etc.

Also that every time the whumpee tries to move the dislocated limb they risk making it worse and intensify the pain.

Then... then you have treatment. Forcing a dislocated joint back into place is NOT FUN. Not for the whumpee, not for the caretaker. And if someone inexperienced tries and messes it up... oh boy oh boy we making it worse!

And of course you have all the issues that might come about after the joint is fixed, such as strained muscles, sprained ligaments and tendons, nerve damage, vascular (blood vessel) issues, stiff joints/osteoarthritis... the list goes on.

Anyway thinking about this bc someone I know irl dislocated both their knees on separate occasions, (and it took like four medical professionals to put it back in place). Also I remembered a scene in Mom's Night Out (2014) where Sam dislocates his shoulder and instead of letting a medical professional set it he slammed. His shoulder. Into a wall. And shoved it back in place. In the storming emergency room. In front of the receptionist. I cringe every time.

[buddierecs]

near death experience buddie fics

all of these are general audience, teen and up or not rated (no smut) make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

still by: brewrosemilk "for the first time, buck longs for a bullet wound to treat. dirt to dig at. a door to break through. something. there’s nothing. “your guess was correct, diaz,” the bomb technician tells them, as he gestures to the orange circle. “you’re standing on a large sensor plate, wired to a detonator. It’s incredibly important that you don’t move. don’t shift. when you put your weight down, it was like cocking a gun - you take your weight off, this thing is powerful enough to take the entire house with it." word count: 9.3k important tags: angst, humor, love confessions, first kiss all that we intent is scrawled in sand (and slips right through our hands) by: withmeornotatall "buck and eddie get trapped together, time is running out, and eddie doesn't want to die alone" word count: 6.9k important tags: earthquakes, major character injury, whump, hurt!eddie diaz, love confessions, first kiss, getting together take this heart, put yourself in it by: smilingbuckley "on his way to eddie's, buck gets into a car accident. he asks ravi, who happens to be a responder to the scene, to call eddie so he can confess his love before it's too late." word count: 1.8k important tags: car accidents, getting together, angst, whump, blood and injury, hurt!evan buckley, worried!eddie diaz across the stars by: ummrys "nasa astronaut evan buckley is presumed dead and abandoned on mars. despite everything, he lives to tell the tale." word count: 75k important tags: space au, based on 'the martian', pre-relationship, hurt!evan buckley, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, grief, slow burn, love confessions if i should fall by: elvensorceress "a accident leaves the love of buck's life dying in a hospital, leading him to evaluate the life he has, the life he wants, and where his heart belongs" word count: 23k important tags: injury recovery, angst, hurt/comfort, feelings realisation, getting together, pining!eddie diaz, demisexual!eddie diaz when your world is on fire by: smilingbuckley "the 118 responds to what should be a normal house fire only to find out that one of their own is stuck inside and believed to be dead." word count: 6k important tags: major character injury, hurt!eddie diaz, burns, explosions, established relationship, presumed dead, grief, hurt/comfort i love you (it's ruining my life) by: smilingbuckley "thinking they're about to die, eddie confesses his feelings for buck to chimney... except they don't die, and now he has to deal with chimney's inability to keep secrets" word count: 6.2k important tags: love confessions, secrets, misunderstandings, light angst, getting together, team as family, emotional hurt/comfort, pining!eddie diaz when we grow up, our shadows grows up too by: dylaesthetics "buck and maddie find themselves on the brink of death, but only one of them can make it out alive." word count: 7.9k important tags: protective sibling, feelings realisation, maddie buckley ships buddie, worried!chimney han, worried!eddie diaz something about sacrifice by: rogerzsteven "buck and eddie are trapped in a call, both of them being injured. buck does everything he can to save eddie, even if that means risking his own life." word count: 5.7k important tags: hurt/comfort, whump, hurt!eddie diaz, injury, angst, major character injury cliffhanger by: pansys_goth_gf "buck and eddie get into a car crash and wait for help to arrive." word count: 3.4k important tags: car accidents, major character injury, love confessions, pet names take in all the colors before they fade to gray by: roisindubh86 "eddie confronts buck, has a realization in the middle of an argument, and just when he thinks it can't get worse, he gets a call from texas that pulls the ground from beneath his feet, figuratively spoken. (the universe is watching. if the two firefighters don't get their act together, the next collapse will be the literal kind.)" word count: 37k important tags: pining!eddie diaz, feelings realisation, friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, family feels, hurt!eddie diaz, getting together

[d3adlyromb3ar]

✩ ‧₊˚ these roses have thorns

— pairing. megumi fushiguro x fem!reader

— synopsis. he hated you. you hated him. it was simple really, all those years of competing to be the best had only driven you two as each others biggest rivals. time passes as it’s been years since you’ve seen each other. suddenly, you both reconnect and wonder why you hated each other to begin with.

— word count. 3.2k

— contents. enemies to friends, (lovers implied), language, angst, fluff, minor injuries, minor family issues, indications of bullying, megumi is such a dork

— notes. credit to @saradika for the dividers 🤍

main masterlist

“You’re so incredibly irritating.”

Megumi rested his forehead against his palm, trying his hardest to block out your high pitched squealing voice.

“Do you think I wanted to be paired up with you? Nope. Not at all. If it were up to me, I’d drop out of this class altogether!”

Your voice strained his ears, his temples aching with the sensation of an oncoming headache.

“Can you just stop talking.” He mumbled.

“No actually. If me talking pains you so much, I’ll keep doing it.” You sassed, crossing your arms.

“God, I can’t stand you.”

He huffed and stood suddenly, not giving you another glance and marching his way towards the classroom.

“Where are you going?”

“To find our teacher. Gonna ask him if I can do this project on my own.”

You rolled your eyes but stayed silent. You could feel your cheeks red, you wondered if people could see smoke coming out of your ears from how infuriated you were.

Megumi stopped in his tracks, turning around when he didn’t hear your snarky reply. Truthfully, he was waiting for it and was shocked when it never came. He furrowed his brows at the sight of you pouting, rooted in your same spot.

“What? Don’t seem so upset, I’ll be doing you a favor.” He said, indicating that you’d appreciate his gesture. No longer cursed with his presence.

He never quite understood why you hated him so much. All he knew was that you were competitive, and so was he. At least when it came to you, he wanted to be better than you at all things. Your reactions becoming his favorite thing when he outsmarted you.

“Whatever.” You mumbled, turning away from him and stomping off the school grounds.

Megumi oddly decided not to meet with the teacher, choosing to tough it out— and do this project with you. It would be too much of a hassle to explain to the teacher why he wanted to work alone.

Days later, you and Megumi were sat underneath a tree within the schools courtyard. He was leaning back against the base of the bark, while you were focused on your notes in front of you.

Your harsh erasing on your notepad had Megumi glancing over to you. He had to bite his tongue when you swiped the shavings in his direction, some of which landed on his uniform pants.

“Okay lemme check this again…” You muttered quietly to yourself, flipping through a textbook in a haste.

He just watched, holding back a laugh at how ridiculous you looked. So panicked and stressed for absolutely no reason— he assumed you were working so hard only to prove you were doing more than him for the project.

Which truthfully, you were. But he had an idea for later.

A frustrated sigh from you grabbed his attention, breaking him from his thoughts. His eyes suddenly focusing on your tongue wedged between your lips, the way it was poking out as you scribbled notes.

“Y’know, you can poke a hole through the paper if you write hard enough.”

“At least I’m working on the project.” You shot back.

He narrowed his eyes, leaning forward and snatching the notepad out of your hands— causing you to gasp.

“Hey! Give it back!”

“What’s all this nonsense anyway— we won’t be needing any of this information. Wasting your tim—”

“I said give it!” You said through clenched teeth, reaching for the notepad, only for him to hold it farther out of your reach.

“I mean, are you even reading out of the right textbook?” He questioned, trying to make you feel incompetent.

You clenched your jaw, your cheeks rising in heat once again.

“If you don’t give it back, I’m going to—”

“Oh you’re threatening me now? How adorable.”

You pressed your lips together tight, the comment both annoying and flustering you. You decided to ignore him and the fluttering in your stomach— pulling out another notepad from your backpack and flipping to a fresh page.

Megumi watched in fascination as you started rewriting all your notes you had previously written. He chuckled, earning a shake of your head. Clearly over his antics.

“God, you’re so stubborn. Doesn’t it hurt your head?”

“Shut up. Let me work.” You snapped, not lifting your gaze from your notes.

He chuckled again, your reactions only spurring him on.

“Are you even a real person?”

This had you snapping your head up, giving him a bitchy look. Although, Megumi wasn’t phased— he held your glare with pleasure.

“Are you? I swear, sometimes it feels like you’ve been sent to this planet just to make my life a living hell.” You hissed.

“Yeah, you wish you were that special.” He mumbled.

You held his satisfied expression for a few more seconds before breaking the stare, focusing back on your work.

“Let me work, please.” Your voice was quieter than before.

“Aww, did I hurt your feelings?”

“No, now please— let me fucking work!” You raised your voice, your grip on your pencil extremely tight.

He chuckled before letting himself go silent, oddly enough— he let you finish the days work in peace. He’d have to hold himself back from talking every time he caught you sticking your tongue out in concentration. He’d have to force himself to look away every time you brought the eraser end of the pencil up to your lips, letting the pink end rub over your mouth.

It was funny, he suddenly realized. Your presence was wasn’t totally awful when you were quiet.

Another day had passed, and the due date of the project was finally here. It was hilarious how he hadn’t done much of anything to the project— not that you’d let him. It wasn’t just the day of the project turn in date, it was also the day of his mischievous plan.

It was the end of class, Megumi sat silent in his spot as the teacher said his final words to his students. The bell rung and before you could level move an inch from your desk, the teacher was calling your name.

“(Y/n) (L/n), please see me after the room is cleared.” He told you.

You nodded but couldn’t help the confusion wash over your features. Immediately thinking of why he’d want to pull you to the side. Had you done something wrong? Certainly not.

Megumi met your gaze one last time, his eyes locking with yours. You glared at him, noticing the way he had a smug look on his face. Before you could change your expression, he had turned and left throughout the doorway.

Slowly, you made your way up to the teachers desk.

“You wanted to speak with me?” You asked politely, maybe a little nervously.

“Yes. It’s been brought to my attention that there were some issues with your project.” He informed you.

You wondered what possibly could’ve been wrong, the teacher had already told you and Megumi that it was the best of the grade.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“Miss (L/n), I’m very disappointed in you. You are one of my brightest students, and for you to deliberately make your classmate Megumi do the whole project himself— well it saddens me.”

Your teachers words had your eyes wide, your mouth hanging open in shock. He didn’t. He wouldn’t. Megumi wouldn’t have gone this far, would he have?

“Mr… I… Listen there is a misunderstan—”

“I don’t need to hear your excuses. Just know that you will be taking a zero for this assignment.”

“But you don’t understand… I did the pro—”

“Lying to me isn’t helping your case Miss (L/n). I just want this to be a learning lesson for you. Megumi was quite upset about this whole ordeal, and I expect you to respect your classmates better from now on.” He finished, standing up and leaving the classroom.

You were left standing in front of his desk still, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Your chest ached at how hard you were breathing, the rage you felt threatening to burst.

You left the classroom, cheeks red and hot. If there was any moment in time where smoke would be bursting out your ears— it would be now.

Just as your foot passed the doorway, you heard an all too familiar laugh. One that had your breathing rising, fastening in pace.

You turn towards the dark haired boy, walking quickly up to his smug face.

“You’re such a dick! I can’t believe you would go this far!” You yelled.

He crossed his arms, his form calmly leaned back against the lockers.

“Just following through with my mission to make your life a living hell.” He repeated from a previous conversation.

You stared at him with disgust.

“Are you really that fucking upset over what I said?”

“I’m not upset about shit. You just need to know who’s always going to have the last laugh. Who’s always going to be on top— because it won’t be you.” He stated.

“I know you hate my guts, but making me take a zero for this project? That’s too far, you don’t get to interfere with my schoolwork. I work too damn hard for you to mess it up!” You defended.

He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but feel bad. He didn’t realize the teacher was going to give you a zero. He assumed a little scolding at least. He realized that maybe he’d taken it too far.

“Y’know what, you win.”

Megumi looked at you with confusion at your admittance.

“You’re better than me at everything. You’re the high and mighty one and I’m just a piece of shit. I get it, I do. Now please do me one fucking favor— and leave me alone.” You pleaded, your voice quiet at the end, thick with emotion.

Megumi couldn’t say anything in the moment, and instead watched you walk away— your head down. He did all this for a quick laugh, to see your reaction and all— so why did he feel terrible instead. It was never supposed to end up this way.

Perhaps he had taken it too far, and now he was afraid that there’d be no fixing this. That theory was confirmed the second he heard that you had transferred schools the next week.

God, he really fucked up. Now he had no way to resolve or fix anything. Now more than ever, he felt the extremely strong urge to tell you he was sorry. He realized all too quickly— he wouldn’t get the chance to.

A few years had passed, and a lot had changed.

Standing in front of the Jujutsu School now— it didn’t quite feel real. You had to force yourself to truly believe that this is where you ended up.

Remembering back, you recalled the exact moment where your life had shifted— from something so simple to chaos.

It happened days after the whole ordeal with Megumi and the project. The rage that had consumed you since that moment had been building. The last week at school was forgotten— you couldn’t recall a thing any of the teachers had said that day.

It was the saturday after your last week. You had been trying to relax at home, make yourself something to eat when you accidentally burned your finger on the stove. Almost like a trigger, the rage that had been built up inside of you tripled— your body not feeling like your own.

Before you fully feel the pain of the burn— your whole house was suddenly in flames. Within minutes your house was simply gone— vanishing from where it was previously rooted.

Your parents had been furious, but they weren’t surprised— not even a little. A long talk later, and you discovered that you were adopted, the two people you lived with forever not even your own Mom and Dad. They told you with heavy hearts that you were born from a clan— one from a history of sorcerers.

You didn’t believe them at first, but after what had just happened— what you had caused. You had no choice but accept the truth.

Your parents assured you not to be upset with yourself for destroying the house, informing you that this was just a placeholder while you were in school. It didn’t push the guilt away that you had done such destruction, and you felt out of control with these abilities you didn’t even know you possessed.

Your parents let you decide your path, and you chose to leave home. Leaving to somewhere that could help you with your abilities, one that would help you understand who you were.

So no, Megumi wasn’t the reason why you transferred. But of course, how would he ever know that fact.

With hesitant steps, you walked further into the school grounds— taking in the beauty of the buildings. The environment felt peaceful and inviting— and most importantly you felt like you finally belonged somewhere.

“(Y/n)?” A deep voice called from behind you.

You got lost in thought before you turned around, the voice sounding so familiar, yet so foreign.

“(Y/n) (L/n)?” The voice called out again, this time around sounding more unsure.

You turned around finally, your heart nearly stopping at the sight of him. There before you stood none other than Megumi Fushiguro.

You realized you hadn’t said anything since he got your attention. You snapped yourself out of your shock and sent him a warm smile, one that undoubtedly had a flash of nervousness in it.

“Megumi, hi. It’s been… It’s been awhile.” You greeted, scratching your arm anxiously.

It was Megumi’s turn to be shocked, he hadn’t seen you in years and yet the person standing in front of him was undoubtedly you, but not you at the same time.

Everything from your features and your height was different, but it’s not what had him so shocked. It was your voice that silenced him completely. It was so— gentle.

It was a miracle he even recognized you at all.

“I’m guessing from your silence that you still don’t like me.” You said in a small voice, laughing awkwardly at the end.

Megumi was snapped out of his shock instantly from the sound of your hurt voice.

“No, no I uh… I am just surprised to see you here.” He explained, “Um, why are you here?”

You didn’t have time to dwell on the fact that he was speaking to you much more softer than ever— it was odd.

You scratched your arm nervously, the same neutral smile on your face.

“I’m going to school here.” You revealed, feeling anxious about what his thoughts were on that. “That’s okay with you, right?”

He nodded. Otherwise his thoughts ran around with the possibility that you were a sorcerer too? How did he never recognize that. Were there signs? How did he miss them?

“Why would it matter what I think?”

You shrugged, the conversation feeling too awkward. There was so much unnecessary tension— you blamed it on the past.

Since you had thought about it, you found yourself walking a couple steps closer to him. It was then you could finally get a closer look at him. His hair had grown longer, more hectic. He’d certainly grown into his face, his jawline was sharp. It was his eyes that captured you— they were so mesmerizing. The way his eyelashes were so long and caged his eyes.

You cleared your throat, getting back on track.

“Listen, about what all happened in the past—”

But you couldn’t finish your sentence, as Megumi cut in.

“I don’t need you to do that, really. If anyone here should be apologizing— it should be me.”

His words shocked you, and you found yourself unable to respond right away. He sensed that and kept going.

“I know it might not make a difference after all these years but, I’m sorry I was such a dick. I’m sorry for always messing with you— and I’m sorry for the whole project thing.” He finished.

You couldn’t help but feel some sort of healing within you from those words. It wasn’t often you’d dwell on him, but you always wondered where his hate for you came from. Maybe it was just an odd occurrence.

“I accept your apology. Thank you.”

Megumi sent a weak smile then, feeling some weight lift off his shoulders. But not all of it.

“And don’t feel too bad about this whole thing, I wasn’t so innocent either. I shouldn’t have messed with you either— I know I was quite annoying. If anything, I probably deserved it.”

Megumi smirked, his shoulders jumping with a silent laugh. He didn’t want to seem rude but he also couldn’t help himself from asking.

“Sorry to change the subject but, how are you a sorcerer? I never got the idea that you were one.”

You ended up walking towards the school stairs, taking a seat and watching as Megumi followed and plopped down next to you— closer than you predicted.

“It’s a long story. Turns out I was adopted and my adoptive parents told me I was from a sorcerer clan.” You ran through the long story, “It’s a pretty boring story.”

He nodded, listening intently to your story. He was intrigued with you— and he wondered if that was the reason he always felt this pull around you.

“What about you? I didn’t know you were a sorcerer. You don’t seem the type.” You joked at the end.

He chuckled, and scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I’ve pretty much known my whole life. Guess I’m good at keeping secrets.”

You hummed, clearly he was right. You didn’t suspect a thing.

“Good to know.”

Despite apologies being traded, small talk being had— there was obvious tension still thick in the air. Neither of you could pinpoint why.

“Well I should um… I should probably get settled in and everything.” You suggested, standing up to head out.

Megumi surprised you yet again when his hand suddenly wrapped around your wrist— halting you in your spot. But it was a gentle touch, one that didn’t seem like him.

“Uh (Y/n)?”

“Yes Megumi?”

He bit his lip, the back of his neck hot with what he wanted to say.

“Just wanted to say that you look good.”

He really couldn’t believe he just said that, after all those years are being a complete dickhead— and suddenly he thinks a couple words of sweet talk would bail him out of the mess. What was he thinking.

Except you were flattered and felt your cheeks heating up, but this time is was from nerves.

“Thank you Megumi, you look good too. Very handsome.”

Megumi’s cheeks suddenly became rosy, the back of his neck burning up. He wasn’t expecting you to say it back, but with how you were looking at him— he knew it was genuine.

“Thanks.”

You smiled at him, your chest warm with a foreign sensation— but you welcomed it.

“After I unpack my things, would you mind showing me around?”

Megumi sent a small smile back, scratching the back of his neck yet again. You never made him this nervous, but your voice also never sounded so smooth, so gentle before.

“Sure.”

With that, you walked away— feeling a little more chipper in your step.

The two of you were left alone in your thoughts as you both went your separate ways. Both of you were thinking of lots, but the one thought that ran through both of your minds was— why did we even hate each other to begin with?

— ending notes. thought of this randomly one night and started writing 😅 not proofread so ignore spelling mistakes 🤍

[cowboyscaviar]

basically