#she was not one of them and GOOD what consolation what peace to have that be her truth in the end

[wookieejamcrew]

Ever since kenobi gave us a better look at vader and the grand inquisitor's tenuous team ups, it makes me think he preemptively called vader over from mustafar to execute trilla. She was going over both of their heads, planning 2 go straight 2 palpatine. My girl was brave as fuck and truly HAD IT. Beeline to the ceo, said fuck middle management and the TIE they came in on. no, i don't have an appointment, palpatine's gonna take this walk-in.

[zaczenemiji]

Can you do a spiderwomen x kenji sato. Maybe she was sent to retrieve emi and then got caught by kenji, and she was put into a jail like thing. So now she's just stuck there. She starts flirting with him. If yk what i mean 😏👉🏿👈🏿🎀💓🌸

Have an ice cream cone. 🍦

Thanks ♡♡♡♡

Kaiju Heist

Kenji Sato x Spiderwoman!Reader

Word Count: 1,066

Genre/Warnings: Anti-hero, Flirting, Imprisonment, Morally Grey/Ambiguous Reader

Author’s Note: This one was a bit challenging, I hope it’s to your liking. Thank you for the ice cream, I offer you this fic.

MASTERLIST

Your plan was simple: sneak in, grab the baby kaiju, and get out. But things rarely went according to plan.

Let’s begin where it all started—that damn spider.

Long story short, your parents were scientists doing experiments on radioactive spiders. You help in their lab and one day, an earthquake enormous kaiju shook the city, causing a containment breach. The next thing you know, a particularly aggressive spider bit your hand.

Of course, you gained extraordinary abilities. Others would’ve loved this and used them for good—be like Ultraman or whatever. But to you, it’s more like a curse. Seriously, you didn’t ask for this so ain’t no way were you going to become a selfless heroine.

So you did nothing with your abilities; you didn’t hone it whatsoever. You looked at it as if it’s just another arm that grew out of your body. Like grabbing a bag of chips from across the room, you’d shoot spider webs out to get it without standing.

Despite living your life as privately as you could, somehow, the Kaiju Defense Force was still able to find you. So here you are now, in their headquarters.

You stood there, arms crossed. “I’ve told you before, Dr. Onda,” you said. “I’m not looking to be a hero. I just want to be left alone.”

Dr. Onda, chief officer of the KDF, and old acquaintance of your parents, leaned forward. “I know. But this isn’t about heroism,” he replied. “This is a highly sensitive mission and you’re the only one who can pull it off.”

"And why should I care?" you replied coolly. "What's in it for me?"

"Payment, of course. A substantial one. Enough to ensure you can continue living the peaceful life you desire without any further interference from us,” Dr. Onda answered.

“And more importantly, it's a one-time deal. Complete this mission, and you'll never hear from the KDF again."

Your face expressed a guarded neutrality but inside, you found it so tempting—the promise of financial security and freedom from future obligations.

“What’s the job?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

Dr. Onda tapped a few keys on his desk console, and a holographic image of a baby kaiju appeared, rotating slowly.

“It’s an entity of importance for the goals of KDF to be fulfilled,” he said. “Recently, it fell into the hands of Kenji Sato. We need you to retrieve it and bring it back to us.”

You studied the hologram, noting the details. "And how exactly am I supposed to move a 20-foot-tall kaiju baby without causing a scene?"

Dr. Onda leaned back, a small smile playing on his lips. "We have a special containment unit designed specifically for it. It's portable and can be deployed with your help. Your task is to get close enough to activate it and secure the kaiju.”

"And the payment?" you pressed.

Dr. Onda named a figure that made your eyes widen slightly. It was more than enough to ensure your financial independence for years to come.

"Alright," you said finally. "I'll do it. But remember, this is a one-time deal. After this, I want nothing more to do with the KDF."

Dr. Onda smiled, “You have my word."

You turned to leave but paused at the door, and glanced back. "I hope you're right about this, Dr. Onda,” you said. “Because if this goes sideways, I won't be the one paying the price."

Going back to the present—here you are, in Kenji Sato’s basement, trapped in a cylindrical glass containment unit, similar to the one the baby kaiju you were supposed to retrieve was held in.

A floating spherical robot circled around you. “We knew they would send someone,” it said in a mechanically feminine voice.

Suddenly, it projected a red light over your body, scanning you. “But I didn’t expect a spider-woman.”

You pressed your hands against the glass, testing its strength. "Nice trap," you said. “But it's going to take more than that to keep me here."

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” a voice came out of nowhere. Turning around, you see THE Kenji Sato with an eyebrow raised and his gaze locked with yours.

The biggest mystery that bothered you upon accepting this mission was how the hell did this famous baseball star had a giant baby in his basement.

You leaned back, crossing your arms over your chest. "So, what's the plan, Kenji? Keep me here forever?” you asked. “Or do you have something else in mind?"

Kenji smirked. "Depends. Why are you here?"

"Why do you think?" you replied, your tone flirtatious. "I was sent to retrieve that kaiju baby. But now, it seems I've found something else worth my attention."

Kenji's eyes narrowed slightly, "And what might that be?"

You gave him a slow, knowing smile. "You, of course,” you answered. “You're much more interesting than a simple retrieval mission."

Kenji chuckled, though he tried to hide it. "Flirting isn't going to get you out of there."

"Maybe not," you conceded, stepping closer to the glass, "But it does make this whole situation a lot more entertaining, don't you think?"

Kenji took a step closer, his eyes studying you. "You're not what I expected."

You tilted your head, your smile widening. "Good. I'd hate to be predictable."

There was a moment of silence as the two of you sized each other up. Finally, Kenji spoke. "You know, if you weren't here to take Emi, we might have been able to get along."

"Oh, I think we still can," you said, your voice low and seductive. "Besides, I never said I was strictly here for Emi."

Kenji looked at you, his expression softening just a fraction. "And what if I let you out?"

You pressed yourself against the glass, your eyes locked on his. "Then maybe, just maybe, we can help each other."

Kenji pondered this for a moment before shaking his head. "Nice try,” he said. “But I need to know more about you before I make that decision."

"Fair enough," you replied, leaning back once more. "But remember, Kenji, sometimes the spider catches more than just her prey."

Kenji turned away, a small smile playing on his lips. "We'll see about that."

You didn’t wanna include this in your escape plan because things rarely went according to plan. But in your mind, you noted: flirt, make him fall for you, and escape.

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@moonlight-starlight-lady01 @eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan

[wandaslovey]

𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍?

➺ pastors!wife!wanda x fem!reader

wc ~ 3.8k

a/n: part 2 of my “when two wrongs make a right” series. it’s based around their first time meeting. fair warning my lovey’s - this part of the series may seem a little slow in the beginning. i really wanted to build a little background for both the reader and wanda. let me know what sort of things you’d like to see from these two cuties and i’ll try and incorporate them in the coming parts :)

*not proofread*

cw: mentions of an unspecified religion, religious homophobia as well as a bit of internalized homophobia, light undertones of infidelity/cheating, specified age gap (r=20, w=32), smoking cigarettes, reader being a bit of a stalker, wanda being a massive, shameless flirt and bold with a capital B.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ୨♡୧ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

it had been over a month since you moved with your parents to a small town in georgia. they said it was on account of a “fresh start” but you had a gut feeling it was really just because your mother wanted to officially separate your father from mrs. stacey—your old neighbor. your dad never came clean about his affair, but it didn’t matter because your mom wasn’t stupid. mrs. stacey and your father weren’t exactly good at keeping things secretive. whatever. you didn’t care. as far as you were concerned, neither of your parents truly cared about much, including their marriage and including you. they were obsessed with their image, wanting to be the perfect cookie cutter, church-going family. it was all about pretenses. it didn’t matter what was going on behind the mirror because the perfectly angled reflection was all people saw of them.

you had planned for things to be different for yourself once you moved here. for one thing, you didn’t want to be a “church-going girl” anymore. after all, everything that was said only made you have more questions. on top of that, you were supposedly a sinner on account of not being attracted to boys. why would you wanna be some place where people wouldn’t accept you if they knew?

your plans turned to squash when the first sunday you tried to tell your parents, it ended up being an enormous deal—your mom sobbing crying that you were trying to “sever your relationship with god.” you tried to console her for a few minutes, but the more you pushed not to go to the church service, the more upset the both of your parents became. to keep the peace and to quit hearing your mother’s nonsense, you bit the bullet and decided to go.

the whole way to the chapel, you planned in your head exactly what you would say the next time this conversation came up. you were 20 years old. you weren’t going to let your parents dictate whether you wanted to participate in religion or not.

as the three of you arrived to the church, you filed in with the rest of the congregation. you kept your head down, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself. it wasn’t until the pastor began his sermon and invited his wife onto the stand that the fake conversation going on with your parents in your head came to an abrupt stop.

holy sh— you thought to yourself.

you see her for the first time. mrs. maximoff. wanda. you’d learned her name once she’d announced it over the pulpit. she radiated an air of confidence and a surety in herself. you tried to commit every detail of her to memory. her southern accent, the way she spoke, her laugh, her hair, her eyes, her lips, her pretty figure, her well-manicured hands that you could see even from your spot down in the congregation..

from then on, you were infatuated with the pastors wife. there was something about her. something that went beyond her stunning outward appearance. you couldn’t put your finger on what it was, but you didn’t mind observing her for however long was necessary to figure it out. you had a penchant for observation after all.

•

five weeks had gone by, this sunday being the sixth time you get to obsess over wanda in person. your thoughts about the pastors wife had you feeling a little nervous, your tummy filling with butterflies as you think about her. technically, it was wrong to think of another woman this way—right? that’s what you’ve been told your whole life. and on top of that, she was married.

oh to hell with it. it’s not like anything would come of it.

as you stand in the mirror, fussing with your sunday dress, you can’t help but look over yourself once, twice, three times before you finally turn away from your own reflection. the longer you looked, the more flaws seemed to appear, so instead, you take a cigarette out of its hiding place—under the floorboards at the end of your bed—and begin your typical “smoking secretly out the window” ritual.

you needed something to help calm your nerves before you headed to church. especially because today they were doing something called a “linger longer” after the service. it was meant for people to take the opportunity to socialize and eat some finger food after being “spiritually fed.” you didn’t know what that meant, but all you cared about was getting more time to observe the beautiful mrs. maximoff. you very quickly noticed she was quite popular within the church community. she talked with everyone. she was always so spritely and positive—you wondered if it was as genuine as it seemed. not that you would know any time soon. you always left before she could make the rounds to talk to you.

you quickly put your cigarette out in the ash tray and stow it back in its hiding place before looking yourself over one more time and then heading to the church service.

•

wanda noticed you the very first sunday you sat in the pews. she never missed a new couple or family coming in to join their congregation. it was her duty as the pastors wife to get to know everyone. she didn’t mind it either. like a true extrovert, she thrived off of interacting with other people—so to say she was a tad disappointed when she noticed you duck out right after the service before she could introduce herself to you—was an understatement. she met your parents of course who seemed nice enough, but she wanted to meet the pretty girl whom she caught staring at her quite a few times.

every sunday from then on was much the same, she’d catch you staring at her off and on throughout the service. each time she couldn’t help but smirk to herself, wondering what you were thinking in that head of yours. she was instantly intrigued by your behavior and even more so intrigued by the draw she seemed to have to you. without meaning to, she started trying to draw a picture in her head of what type of woman you might be. you seemed reserved yet polite, sweet yet stubborn and bold yet sometimes bashful, especially when she caught you looking at her. you were deliciously difficult for her to figure out and that’s why this sunday, she had made up her mind she was going to pin you down at the linger longer.

•

today was the first time you listened to a sermon and wished it stretched on a little longer. mrs. maximoff was speaking, preaching about the importance of charity. you didn’t disagree with her of course, but it wasn’t so much what she was saying, it was how she said it. you quickly became partial with how she spoke. it was like her tone indicated that everything she said was factual and not up for debate. you admired that quality in her—her ability to speak so profoundly.

she wrapped up her speech and then took her place to sing in the choir for the closing song. your eyes remained on her the whole time. while you couldn’t exactly pick out her individual voice from the bunch, you were sure her singing was the best.

as people filed out of the chapel and out onto the vast lawn that surrounded the church building, you take a moment to admire your surroundings. georgia really was beautiful—very humid, but still beautiful. the lawn was littered with white folding chairs and circular tables with some pink, orange and yellow wildflowers as the center pieces. the colors contrasted beautifully against the long, overgrown green grass and the brilliant blue sky above.

you quickly made your way over to the long rectangle table with food. if there was one thing you learned from being an observant person, it’s that you looked less awkward not socializing if you had a small plate of food in your hand. it wasn’t that you were necessarily anti-social or hated interacting with others, you just didn’t like talking with people who were typically on their moral high-horses.

you exchange pleasantries with a small family who, like you, made a beeline for the food table. you don’t pay much attention to what you put on your flimsy paper plate; some sort of meat kabob, fresh fruit and boiled peanuts. you’d never had boiled peanuts before, but apparently it was one of the food staples of georgia.

turning away from the table, you scan the small groups of people and notice how a lot of them don’t even bother to take a seat at the tables. most people choose to stand in the more open part of the field and chat. you didn’t have to look through the herds of people for long before your eyes land on wanda. she had her head thrown back, laughing at something one of the ladies from the choir had said. her laughter carried through the light breeze that was currently blowing. the sound instantly became one of your favorites to hear.

god, what was wrong with you? you had never become so quickly obsessed with someone before. not even close. the closest thing you could think of was that massive crush you had on sally miller in the 9th grade. still.. that didn’t compare to this.

you begin walking through the cluster of tables, your eyes glancing from her to looking at where you’re walking and then back to her again.

the next 30 minutes was much the same. you briefly sat down at a table, but once more people came to sit with you, you quickly offered your seat up to the last member of a larger family so nobody had to be separated.

no matter where you sat, stood, or walked, your eyes never strayed far from wanda. that was until a kind, middle aged woman came over to talk with you. she was kind enough, asking questions about you and your parents. she seemed genuinely interested in your life, and for that you were happy to talk with her. you learned she had been married for 10 years and her and her husband had been trying for a baby for awhile now, but had run into so many complications. you sympathized with her, understanding that it must be very difficult for something you want so badly to be so painstaking to achieve.

it wasn’t until you exchanged farewells and she moved onto the next person to talk to, that you noticed wanda no longer stood where she was before. in fact, she wasn’t anywhere in the several crowds of people you skimmed through. did she leave? you squint your eyes, focusing in on any short blonde hair you could see in front of you from the place you stood.

“hi there.” you hear drawled out from behind you.

oh my god.

you slowly turn, your eyes falling on none other than mrs. maximoff. you quickly compose the brief surprise that passed over your face.

“mrs. maximoff.” you swallow and tuck some hair behind your ear, offering her a polite smile to mask the squinty expression you had before. had she realized you were looking for her? you hope not..

“oh please, calling me mrs. maximoff makes me feel so old! call me wanda.” she outstretches her arm to shake your hand which you take only after a moments hesitance.

“wanda,” you repeat, your smile growing as you feel her gently squeeze your hand before letting go.

“this is usually the part where you tell me your name, honey.” she smiles amusedly, already thoroughly enjoying this interaction.

“i’m… (y/n), (y/n) (y/l/n).”

“lovely to finally meet you, miss (y/n).” she appraises you, looking you up and down in your cute floral patterned dress. your stomach flutters as you notice her eyes lingering on your figure.

“i met your parents a few weeks ago, but i never got the chance to say hi to you. anyway, i’m real glad we’re finally getting to talk now.” her eyes subtly scan over your features, taking in your pretty eyes, cute nose and full pouty lips. she even noticed the light spackle of freckles across your cheeks and bridge of your nose. she wondered if those freckles were there year round or just for the summer.

“yeah, i um.. i’m not usually one for socializing.” you admit, clasping your hands together in front of you. one of your fingers fiddle with the ring on your left thumb, twisting it around.

“so, (y/n), i have a confession to make.” she blurts, the implication behind her pronouncement making your more on alert. she runs her hand through her perfectly kempt hair before resting it on her hip, trying to appear more casual—though this conversation was rapidly feeling less so.

“oh?” you ask curiously.

“well, it’s just that i’ve noticed you looking at me a fair amount on sunday’s—when i’m at the microphone, singing in the choir, sitting in the pews…but then you never come and talk to me. am i so frightenin’?”

your eyes widen in surprise. you knew you weren’t exactly subtle with your spared “glances,” but was it that obvious?

“what? no, no, no, it’s not that. not that at all. it’s just—well i..” the way she asks has you stumbling over your words. you never meant to offend her. it wasn’t that she was frightening, you just had no idea what to say to her.

she makes an attempt to mask her amusement but can’t help it with your stuttered response. a smile eventually breaks across her face and she chuckles lightly at your trying to explain, finding it endearing.

“oh, i’m just messing with you, sweet thing. no need to get all tongue tied.” her smile was amused and her eyes twinkle with playfulness as she reaches out to touch your shoulder. the action was meant to be placating, but it did nothing more than make you feel more flustered.

“tell me more about yourself.” she says it more as a command than a question, changing the subject and sparing you further embarrassment. you’re grateful for the change in tone regardless of its abruptness.

you shrug, unsure where to begin exactly, but you quickly found yourself wanting to tell this woman everything about you. “well, what would you like to know?”

“what does a cute thing like you get up to?what’re some of your hobbies?” her what appeared to be shameless flirting, surprised you. you mentally kick yourself, thinking she couldn’t possibly be flirting. it was probably just a southern thing they did here…

it was against “god’s plan” to have same sex relations of any kind. that included flirting, didn’t it? and she was married to the pastor for christ’s sake.

although.. at church you did notice that the two of them never seemed to be near to each other at all.. no. you were reading into things. this was just her being polite.

“umm, well, i guess i like to read? mostly fantasy. i’m kind of a closet nerd. i like doing things that are creative, so i’ve been teaching myself to paint and i also make string bracelets or anklets sometimes.. you know, it terms of creative things, um..” you trail off, your hand rubbing the back of your head as you draw a blank. why couldn’t you remember your own hobbies? you weren’t normally so easily flustered or stuttering over your words, but wanda’s confidence and boldness brought out a bashfulness in you that you didn’t even know existed.

she listens intently to your response, nodding encouragingly and she remains silent in your pause to find your words. she wanted to know you better and she could be as patient as was necessary.

“i also like to write.. poetry mostly. i don’t often sit down to do it, but i always enjoy when i do. um, i also love going on walks, listening to music… oh! i love rollercoasters. rollercoasters are probably one of my favorites things.” the longer you talked about what you enjoyed, the looser, less nervous you felt. wanda could see your soft shyness dissipating the more you shared. you light up in a way when you speak, your passion for your interests shining through with your facial expressions and hand movements.

“oh my—rollercoasters? you’re just a little adrenaline junkie, aren’t you?” she teases with a warm smile, her nose scrunching in the most adorable way.

“i wouldn’t go that far, but i do enjoy a good thrill,” you keep your tone light-hearted, mirroring her tone and her smile. her gentle teasing and close attention to you was beginning to make you feel light headed with giddiness.

“what about you, wanda? what do you like to do?” you take a step closer to her, your arm reaching across your chest to grab the other as you continue to feel at ease in her presence.

“anything, really. i like to change things up, keep life interesting. if there’s something new i want to partake in, i seldom hold back from trying it out.” her eyes shine with something you can’t quite put your finger on. you couldn’t help but feel there might be a double meaning to her words, but you could also just be reading into things again. hard to know for sure as you notice her eyes flick up and down your body for the second time since this conversation started.

the two of you continue talking for what only felt like minutes. you barely notice the other people around beginning to clean up food, tables and chairs. it wasn’t until most things had been cleared away that you realize just how long you’ve been standing here talking—nearly a half hour.

“well, i guess i should be letting you get back to the rest of your day,” she sighs, her shoulder raising and lowering with the action. you frown slightly, not wanting your time with her to come to an end. wanda notices of course because just like you were with her, she was paying an awful lot of attention to you.

“yeah.. yeah i guess so.” you nod in agreement, but feel anything but a desire to part from her in this moment.

“hey,” her hand reaches up and gently squeezes your shoulder, her hand lingering there. you feel your heart begin to beat faster, a warmth spreading in your chest.

“can you sing?” she asks randomly. you clear your throat, the sudden question taking you off guard.

“umm.. i’m sorry?” you ask stupidly.

“sing - can you sing?” she reiterates.

“well.. yeah a little, but w-“ she cuts you off.

“perfect! it’s settled then. you’ll join our choir!” her voice is cheery sounding, but the suggestion she made to join didn’t leave much room for discussion.

“i will?” you look at her in slight disbelief, though a smile was also tugging at the corner of your lips.

“mhmm, i don’t see why not. you want to spend more time with me, don’t you?” her boldness was astonishing. you couldn’t decide if you found it endearing, intimidating or sexy.. possibly a combo of the three. she had to be flirting. you finally decided.

“if i say yes, then..?” you trail off, neither confirming nor denying her claim.

“if you say yes then you’ll be nothin’ but honest, and you wanna be honest with me, don’t you (y/n)?” she raises her brows inquisitively, the hand that was still lingering at your upper arm squeezing again.

“that’s very bold of you to assume.” you challenge, your normal wit finally coming out to play. you couldn’t help it. her insistence on being so unabashed and teasing was rubbing off on you.

“well i have eyes, don’t i? believe it or not, i put ‘em to good use.” she drops her hand from your arm and crosses her arms over her chest.

“i noticed.” you purse your lips, your eyes dancing with playfulness as you hint at the fact you’ve caught her looking you up and down a couple times.

she smiles wide at your matching her energy, but she couldn’t help but want the upper hand back, no matter how much she was enjoying this new side of yourself.

“i won’t apologize for gawking at a pretty, young thing like you.” she smiles triumphantly when she notices your dignified posture slump slightly, the most delicate blush coloring your cheeks.

“you don’t have to apologize,” you say quietly, your words surprising you as you say them aloud instead of just in your mind. you look down and off to the side, wanting to hide the heat spreading across your cheeks.

“well we should both get goin’, but choir practice is every tuesday and thursday at 7pm. i wanna see you there, (y/n).” she reaches up presses her palm against your cheek so you’re looking at her again. she locks eyes with you with an edge of what appears to be sternness.

you nod slowly, captivating in her stare. she smiles, pleased and then drops her hand from your face.

“great, i’ll see you then, sweetheart.” she taps your nose affectionately, before turning on her heel and walking away. you watch her figure retreat to the parking lot, your head spinning a bit as your interaction played through your head.

•

as you arrive home late that afternoon, you can’t fight the smile that kept spreading across your face or the butterflies that never seemed to stop fluttering around in your stomach.

when you lay in bed at night to go to sleep, your conversation with wanda kept going through your head. you wondered what it all meant. she had to be flirting—but it was that very fact that had you confused. didn’t she herself subscribe to the belief that being gay was a sin? did she feel it was as wrong as the people in the church say it is? what would her husband think? what would he do if he found out about your conversation today?

the more you thought about it, the more unsettled you felt. before you could truly start to spiral though, you remember wanda’s smile and her contagious laughter. you think to yourself how good it felt to be with her, how warm you felt inside and how at ease she made you feel after a short while.

how could something something so bad, feel so good?

[thenightwolf51]

What if Jack and Maddie Fenton were actually Jack and Janet Drake?

The Drakes are their actual identities but they created the Fentons as a why of letting loose, of getting to be their truest most unhinged selves and pursue their true passion without the eyes of high society Gotham judging them.

Whenever the Drakes are supposedly out of the country on archeological digs they are actually in a little no where town in the midwest.

The Drake wealth is perfectly capable of funding their experiments and prototypes and every now and then they do show up to a dig for a week or too, but the Fentons are who they truly are.

So of course Gotham never finds out about Janet's first pregnancy and little Jasmine is welcomed into the world as an Amity Park Fenton, not a Gotham Drake. Janet's second pregnancy however.

Well as i said, the Fentons are who they truly are at their most unhinged and unfiltered. And upon finding out that their having a set of identical twins, well, can you really blame them for passing up this perfect opportunity to test Nature vs. Nurture.

One boy would be a wealthy Drake raised as an only child in a hostile city, the other would be a Fenton raised with his older sister in a peaceful small town.

That's what they decide and thats what they do, and everything is as cannon goes. Tim doesn't know that his parents "archeological digs" are really an excuse to spend most of their time as the Fentons, and Danny and Jazz don't know that the longer "ghost conventions" are an excuse to handle Drake affairs and check on their unknown brother.

At least until things start to get complicated.

(Im not sure if Maddie fakes Janet's death or if she really dies, and if Jack's coma is fake or real and he lost his Fenton memories. Or maybe the death and coma dont happen at all and the truth comes out some other way like Danny finding the Nature vs. Nurture notes or a school trip to gotham or maybe Jazz desides to go to college in Gotham and it comes out that way somehow.

This obviously works best as a "bad parents Jack and maddie" though how bad they are can be entirely up to you. Maybe everything comes out sometime after a "reveal gone right" and Danny and Jazz think their parents are getting better only to be smacked in the face by the betrayal of "secret billionaire parents who essentially abandoned their brother"

Dont know but im tossing it to the void.

To me the most important scenes in this idea is Tim angst at the fact that his parents were never actually too busy to be there for him and had instead chosen no to be there, the somewhat bitter consolation of learning that even when their parents were physically there they still weren't there there for his siblings, and then some good ole slightly unhinged sibling bonding.

Maybe the measuring of ecto contamination and debate in if their parents presence did more damageto their health or less

They honestly might be tied on mental and physical scars. All three kids tend to come with headcanons about neglect and malnourishment)

@hdgnj @omnicrafts @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @tathartiel @0mnicrex @ailithnight @little-pondhead

[drunkenkissesatdusk]

can i order an older!batman!damian x reader they have a lot of children (biologically) and his family and friends does not know, i wanna know their reactions

yes your price is 1 order of creepcast merch for me since there’s 3 days left and i haven’t been able to get my grubby hands on it

YOU HAVE KIDS?

pairings — older!damian wayne — al ghul x fem!reader (could also be read as just reader since i never really use she/her much)

warnings — idk actually, pretty generic names for the kids but obviously you can imagine a different name if you want to (i just don’t like using d/n ykwim) (plus i only use them once)

summary — literally just the request but only with the batboys, batgirls, and bruce!!

notes — i hope this is good 😟

━━━━━━━ TO BE FAIR, YOU should’ve told them sooner. well, Damian should’ve, they were his family. but, you’d never forced him too, since your account on instagram wasn’t followed by any of them.

“are you sure you want to do this?” you rubbed your hands along his shoulders, gently. you were due at the Wayne manor in a little for a small lunch, you’d never been one to force Damian into seeing them, since you understood, but you were surprised when he planned on going.

“yeah, i’ll have to do it sooner or later.” he grabbed your hand and peppered kissing along your knuckles.

“mom can i bring my doll?” your youngest daughter, just turning five with no front teeth, walked out of the hall opening holding her old doll passed down from you. smiling, you nodded.

“you gonna remember to bring it home, baby?” you stepped forwards, rubbing your hands through her messy head of black hair. she’d inherited more from her father.

“mhm!” she smiled, turning back to her room with a grin.

“can’t we have more?” Damian wrapped his arms around you, his head leaning snug against your shoulder. you put your hands over his, a soft laugh leaving you.

“not for a little bit, Dame.” you turned around with a grin, gently kissing him. you shared the small intimate moment without hesitation, bonded as one soul in the moment.

“mom! are we going yet?” your oldest, now eleven, walked down the hall. you turned to her, then to your husband, who nodded. your oldest daughter saw it, and walked over to put her shoes on.

getting your other three — your youngest and the middle boys (twins) — and helping them with their shoes, you were all off. the ride was peaceful, your kids finding themselves distracted with either the outside world or the toys you let them bring along.

“have you told any of them?” you had been holding Damian’s hand over the center console, your thumb in a constant soothing motion over his knuckles and the curve of his thumb.

“no, only Alfred. he’s the only one who needed to immediately know. besides, i told him first anyways.” Damian sighed.

“that’s fine, baby. i told you, you never had to.” you brought his hand closer to your mouth, gently kissing it. Damian smiled at you before the rest of the car ride was passed with ease.

Damian, getting out and opening your door, then began to help your youngest get out of the car. you helped the twins out, made sure they had the toys they wanted, and had them follow Damian to the front door.

on the way, your draped your arm over your oldest daughters shoulders, tugging her into you. she basically melted into you, her arm going around you in return.

Alfred opened the door, a wide smile crossing his face. “master Damian!” he was overjoyed, “lovely to see you.” he hugged the man before following up with greeting you and your kids the same way.

he led the six of you upstairs to where everyone else was.

if you could’ve had a camera, you would’ve taken a picture of the moment. their faces were covered in pure shock, staring at your kids. your hand squeezed Damian’s, which you had found yourself holding.

“well, if this isn’t news i don’t know what is.” Dick broke the silence first, stepping forwards and embracing Damian. respectfully, he shook your hand.

“these are our kids, Elliot and Titus,” he gestured to the twins, both holding their action figures and playing around with them — they were Red Hood and Nightwing action figures.

“our oldest, Lorelei,” he gestured to her, “and youngest Regan.” they looked like the two of you. your youngest had all of Damian’s features, and your oldest might as well have been your carbon copy.

the twins looked like a mixture, and you could see everything processing in their minds.

“why don’t you four come with me?” Alfred stepped forwards when he noticed the slight tension in the air.

your kids didn’t argue, following him out to the garden.

“how come we never knew?” Bruce, getting older and older each day, stepped forwards.

“because it was our mutual agreement. i told Damian he didn’t have to tell anyone he didn’t want to.” you defended you and your husbands decision instantly.

“doesn’t matter,” Dick stepped up now, “we know now!” he was grinning.

“did you really buy your kids Nightwing and Red Hood action figures?” Jason was grinning when he spoke up.

“the girls have Batgirl figures.” you informed them with a wide smile, “you might not have known them, but they’ve always known you guys.” you added, your hand rubbing comforting patterns into Damian’s back.

“does this mean we’re all aunts and uncles? well, grandparent for Bruce.” Tim asked. you nodded with Damian in confirmation. a challenging look flashed across all of their faces instantaneously.

“this doesn’t mean you guys can go and spoil them.” Damian said, trying to fight back a smile.

ever since being with you, he’d mellowed out and been less harsh towards people. something you hadn’t done on purpose. he was still mean when he had to be.

“don’t spoil them too much, we still want humble and kind kids.” you corrected Damian.

“i can live with that.” Jason shrugged.

“do they really have batgirl figures?” Cass asked. you nodded again in confirmation, mentioning how it was your idea.

“how old are they all?” Steph had finally asked.

“eleven, seven, and five.” you nodded, telling them which was which afterwards. you couldn’t specifically hear it, but you knew they were all ready to fight over the title of favorite.

after awhile at the manor, you all found yourselves back at home. you and Damian relaxed outside as your kids stayed inside, but every once and awhile, the younger ones would run outside and cause chaos.

“do you feel better now that they know?” you had your head against your husbands chest, listening to him and his heartbeat.

“a little. i… i’m glad they reacted how they did. i thought they’d hate me forever.” Damian admitted with a small laugh. you grinned.

“i don’t think anyone could hate you anymore, you big softie.” you teased him, holding open your arm when your oldest daughter came out to join you two on the hammock.

masterlist — reminder that asks / requests are open!!

[gguk-n]

Chapter 2- First Encounters

Arranged For Love (Carlos Sainz Jr x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Maybe grandma knows best. Maybe Y/N and Carlos should start listening to Y/N's grandma.

You could only imagine what had gone down in the Kastner household. You could hear Y/N screaming. She wasn't happy and she was about to make it known. "Mum, this is crazy. I'm not marrying some crusty old dude" she shouted. "Sweetheart, he isn't some crusty old dude." her mother emphasised. "A little older than you sure but he is a handsome man" her mother reasoned. "No." she retorted, "Dad, I get why you can't say no to your mother but this is just atrocious. You are forcing your daughter like in the 1500s to marry a random man grandma chose" she whined looking at her father on the verge of tears. "Angel, it's nothing like that. Carlos is a nice man, he comes from a nice family. I literally grew up with his father. I'm sure if you met him you'll like him" her father reasoned. "Yeah, sure" she replied sarcastically running a hand through her hair. "I-You-ugh-" she sighed, "You guys met each other during your masters programme and then fell in love naturally, got married and had children. Why do I not get the chance to find some one? Go out on dates, have my heartbroken a few times before I find the one but you guys won't even let me be a stupid young adult in peace" she sighed, angry tears falling from her eyes. "Oh, no sweetheart, please don't cry." her mother tried to console her. "Please, leave. I don't want to talk to you guys right now" she stated pushing them out and closing the door. Her parents sighed, "She'll come around" her father cajoled her mother.

Carlos senior wasn't having very much luck with Carlos junior either. "Dad, I don't get it. I met this lady, who apparently left a lasting impact on you, good for you" junior emphasised, "like once. I'm not marrying her grand daughter." junior tried to reason. "Son, she is a good woman. I'm sure the grand daughter must be just as good and fun to be around as well." senior said. "I have a felling you two will get along well" senior spoke. "You don't know that. I don't want to marry someone just because" junior stated. "I think you should meet her. After that, we'll think about it" senior tried to coerce his son to join them for dinner. Junior was so annoyed with his parents and some how both his sisters for on their side. Carlos couldn't believe he was being forced into meeting a girl they wanted to marry him off to.

Carlos knew that there was no way to avoid the dinner since his father would personally drag him there if he didn't comply and he had no plans of finding his father's brute strength out. So, reluctantly Carlos got dressed and went with his family.

Y/N, on the other hand, hadn't left her room since the outburst she had a few hours ago. Her mother her tried to reason with her to get her to come out to no avail. It was only after her grandmother came to talk to her, "Sweetheart, it's me" her grandma knocked her door. "I know you're angry at me. Stay angry but do meet him once" she said. "I don't want to" Y/N shouted. "Give it a try. This old woman has seen a few things in her time" she chided. "I'll embarrass you if you force me" Y/N retorted. "Go ahead. I don't mind" her grandma spoke. "Just remember, I'll be gone in sometime and you'll remember what I said" her grandma sighed. The door clicked open, "Why would you say that?" Y/N asked in tears. "Honey, because it is true and I just want what's best for you" she explained. "I want you around forever, that's best for me" Y/N spoke barely above a whisper. "I'll try to fight off the grim reaper" Anika laughed. "Now, will you get dressed, they'll be here soon" her grandma asked. And that's how Y/N got dressed and joined them for dinner.

The Sainz had already arrived and were talking to the Kastner's when Y/N entered the living room. The place felt slightly cramped with the number of guests who were sat in that room but extremely homely. Y/N scanned the room, her eyes darting from one face to another until they rested on a dashing young man. He looked like a model, it couldn't be the guy her family was trying to set her up with, could it? she thought. Her grandmother beckoned Y/N towards her and introduced everyone to Y/N. "It's nice to meet you" she said with a tight lipped smile. Yes that man was handsome but she wasn't giving them the satisfaction by caving in within seconds of seeing him.

As she moved down the line, greeting everyone, she couldn't wait to be introduced to Carlos. "That's Carlos junior, he's a Formula One driver" her grandmother mentioned as Y/N shook his hand. "It's so nice to meet you too" Carlos said, his accent thick. Y/N felt a shudder run down her spine as Carlos spoke. "That's my lovely grand daughter, Y/N, I've told you so much about" her grandmother said. Y/N turned to see her grandma gleaming with joy. Oh, she was a sucker for Spaniards, this wasn't good; she couldn't let them have their way, she thought. When she had returned to her grandmother's side, "He's the guy I'm hoping you'll marry" she whispered in Y/N's ear.

Carlos wasn't sure what he was expecting but he was not expecting to have his breath be taken away. When Y/N entered the room, visible annoyance on her face, Carlos found his lips twitching. He didn't believe in love at first site but he might've just experienced it. Her hands were soft and warm, he felt a spark as they met to greet each other, he only hoped she felt the same. Carlos was a goner and he wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to his dad or this Y/N girl.

After a little while of chatting and stolen glances on both Y/N and Carlos's part; they couldn't let the other know they were interested, it would be a told you so moment for their parents and they had no interest in inflating their ego. The families moved outside which had been turned into a makeshift dining room to accommodate everyone. Y/N and Carlos were pushed together to be sat next to each other in hopes that they would start making small talk.

Y/N was slightly intimidated by him if she was being honest, the more she looked at him, the more heart beat faster. He looked like he was carved by God, he was pretty and handsome to look at. His hair was tousled so perfectly, and his eye lashes brushed his cheeks as he blinked, his lips were so soft and plump, she wondered what they felt like.

Carlos wasn't any better. His eyes scanned her face, the way her nose scrunched when her family said something or the way her hair flowed as she tried to tie it back or the way her jewellery reflected against the soft light of the candles. He was mesmerised, her laugh was so full of life, it made him smile. She was so full of life, always keeping the conversation going with everyone but him. He thought, did she dislike the idea that much that she had barely spoken to him the whole night, choosing to address anyone but him as everyone had dinner. Maybe he was hurt, a little, he wouldn't lie.

After dinner, Anika noticed how the two of them had barely interacted or spoken to each other, much to her dismay. So, she took matters into her own hands; "Why don't the two of you walk around for a bit? Maybe Y/N can show you the house. You both will get bored with all the adult talk" she tried to shush them away. "But our siblings are still here" Y/N tried to reason. "They are going to watch a movie or something. You should show Carlos around" her grandmother insisted and pushed the pair away.

Y/N and Carlos walked away, "Hi" she said meekly. "Hi" Carlos replied. The backyard was darker now, only lit by the moon light. "So, you race" Y/N trailed off. "Yeah, Formula One. Do you watch?" he asked. "Honestly, no. Heard about it today" she replied sheepishly. "Never been a huge sports girl" she tried to ease the situation. "My siblings watch I guess" she tried to lighten the mood. "Yeah, they told me. They're big fans it seems." Carlos spoke. "Maybe you guys could come to a race, when it's possible" Carlos suggested. "I'm sure they'll love that" she smiled. Carlos felt his heart beat faster. "Won't you be joining them?" Carlos asked hopefull. "I don't get the sport" she stopped when Carlos's mood seem to dampen, "but if you'll explain it to me, maybe I'll enjoy it" she chuckled nervously. God, this habit of nervous laughter was gonna end her, she thought. Carlos seemed to cheer up after that. They walked around for a bit. Y/N even showed him the house.

"Have you ever visited Madrid?" Carlos asked towards the end of their tour. "No, always wanted to though" she replied. "Then you should, you have a tour guide ready" he said pointing at himself. "I don't want to bother you" she smiled. "I don't think it would be much of a bother really." Carlos smiled back. "Maybe we could exchange number, incase I come to Madrid" she said shyly. "Sure" Carlos said quickly exchanging their phones.

"When should we plan the wedding?" Anika asked the two couples. "Let the kids decide" Ivan spoke. "I would but I think Y/N won't marry him out of spite" Anika laughed. "Would she?" Rose thought out. "I think a winter or spring wedding would be wonderful, nothing fancy." Anika stated. "I'll have to discuss that with Carlos" Carlos senior said. "Sure sure, take your time" Anika said.

In Anika's eyes the dinner felt like a success. The two of them were talking cordially. "I think this was a success" she told Ivan and Carlos senior. The two men looked at each other than Anika, "We agree" they said looking at Carlos and Y/N talking as they returned back to the living room. "How did you find the place Carlos?" Anika asked. "It's nice" Carlos replied. "I'm happy you had fun" Anika said patting his back. "Come back whenever you want. You're always welcome" she insisted.

Everyone hugged each other good bye. Anika had gotten teary eyes as she bid everyone good bye. "I don't know when I'll ever get to you all again" she spoke slowly. "Don't say that. You'll live long" Carlos senior spoke hugging her. "It was nice meeting you" Carlos whispered in Y/N's ear. "yeah. come back sometime" Y/N said. "Do keep in touch" Carlos said. "I will." Y/N spoke.

Y/N felt giddy as she got changed. She hadn't felt this way, whenever she hung out with any guy. He had a great personality with his breath-taking looks. She found herself hovering over his number a few time over the next couple days.

While back at his races, Carlos found himself thinking about Y/N. It was weird for him to be this preoccupied with anything like this other than racing. He hoped she would text him some time since he was too scared to do it himself.

Taglist- @herexpertcollector @redrevvedup @chaostudee @larastark3107 @jovialpainterunknown @vip-access @sugarvibez @champomiel @inarabee @virazeeee @seonghwaexile @champ15ns @ajthefujoshi @musicheaux @npcmia @marvel-ous-miss-maisie @mochipatch @gleeblegnarp @formula1-motogpfan @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @dying-inside-but-its-classy

[bunnybuunn]

Little Florist.

Summary: Agatha suggesting little!reader to join her coven as the green witch.

Warnings: Age regression, none.

Agatha stormed out of her house, incredibly frustrated with the witches behavior. She never wanted to join a coven again, and she had no intentions of creating some sort of friendship with them. However, they were right when they reminded her of the green witch, and she was glad that she knew someone here, in Westview, who could’ve suited that role just right. She made her way to that one girl's house, hesitating before knocking on the door. Agatha didn’t know what to say exactly, and she couldn’t have imagined your reaction to her invitation. 

 

„We don’t have time for this, Agatha.”

 

She reminded herself with a loud sigh before gently knocking on your front door. There was no reaction. She hasn’t heard your footsteps or any signs of you approaching the door. Agatha rolled her eyes, hoping that she wouldn’t have to break into your house just because you didn’t hear her knocking. 

The witch looked around, and when there was no doorbell, she decided to knock once again, though her knocks weren’t so gentle anymore. She needed you in her coven, and every minute of your ignorance was only making her more frustrated. 

When Agatha didn’t get any answer from you once again, she kicked your door with her foot out of anger, and her eyes widened when she found out that it wasn’t even locked. 

 

„Interesting.“

 

The woman slowly got inside of the house, closing the door behind her and locking it, just so nobody would bother both of you. The house was silent, and for some reason it had freaked her out. Agatha got used to the noise and loudness, so that peaceful and quiet atmosphere was somehow creepy to her. 

She made her way through the living room and right to the door that she suspected was your bedroom door. The witch didn’t knock this time; she just carefully opened the door, peeking through the small gap.

And there were you, sitting on the floor in all pink, decorating your plushies with the flowers that you had grown. Even the knee socks that you had on were matching your outfit, and somehow your whole appearance seemed adorable to Agatha, who had rarely seen people as adorable or even pretty. She smiled softly, trying her best not to scare you while entering the room. 

You quickly turned around, hearing the door creaking. Your eyes widened when you saw Agatha, but you didn’t scream because of the pacifier that was stuck in your mouth. 

 

„Shh, it’s okay.”

 

Agatha said, placing her finger to her lips. She was trying to keep you and the whole situation calm because the witch wasn’t sure that she knew how to exactly console someone who is regressed. 

You seemed to be cooperative, nodding and then pulling the pacifier out of your mouth, but not screaming. 

 

„Wha’ do you need?”

 

Your soft voice almost made Agatha smile, but she kept her cool expression, not letting her emotions show. She remained silent for quite a while, trying to figure out how to explain it to you so you won’t back up immediately.

She then crouched down in front of you, gently picking up one of your plushies. 

 

„It seems like I just found a little florist, huh?”

 

You smiled at her statement, moving aside so she would see all the other decorated plushies. You didn’t seem to understand just how hard it was for Agatha to keep her distant and uninterested facade on when your little actions were making her frustration melt away more and more with every second. 

 

„I need your help, darling. I need you to come with me and help me with organizing a little trip. Can you do that for me?”

 

You hesitated for a moment, but then your face brightened when Agatha mentioned the trip. You loved trips and organizing things, so for you her invitation sounded like a good time. 

You nodded, getting up from the floor and grabbing all of your plushies with you. 

 

„Can I take ‘em?"

 

Agatha couldn’t bring herself to say „no”. She knew that you would probably lose them while going on that „little trip”, but she would find a way to get you even more plushies when both of you would finish the road. 

 

„Of course.”

 

She helped you to collect all of them while you were busy making sure that no one was forgotten. Agatha wasn’t even rushing you, clearly caring more about your toys than those old hags that were waiting for her back in her house. When you finished your little journey, she helped you to carry all of them outside, taking your free hand in her own. She led you to her house, squeezing your little hand tighter with every step. 

Before opening her front door, she gave you a serious look.

 

„When our little trip will start, don’t let go of my hand. Never.”

 

You nodded quickly, not feeling threatened since it seemed like Agatha wasn’t planning on letting you get hurt. 

[hl-obsessed]

WARNING! it's a long one - 54 fics listed! 🙈💕✨

•°•°•°•°•°•

✨💎 Lend Me Your Broken Parts by @dizzy-pixie17

(M, 2,4k)It's been five years, but when Lottie doesn't know what else to do to console a hysterical Louis, she calls Harry.

And despite everything, Harry comes.

Look How Well I Play the Bare Truth by Missbeautifullywritten17

(NR, 8,7k) When recently single (to the general public, of course) Harry Styles gets nominated to an Oscar for playing a gay policeman in the 1950s he thinks it is the most wonderful and, at the same time, painful thing it could have happened to him. How is he supposed to say how much Tom and Patrick's story means to him without revealing he is being closeted himself? How is he supposed to go on with his life after receiving the most important award there is for simply playing the bare truth? Well, maybe the rainbow dress he is wearing would be enough of an statement...

Or, the one where Holivia stunt ends, dwd flops and My Policeman gets lots of oscar nominations. Now, it is March 2023, Louis can't be there with him even though his bearding relationship with Eleanor and bbg are already done and he is in the process of coming out himself (apparently, coming out was one thing, but them being a couple... that was perjudicial for their careers and shall remain hidden). So what he does instead is a rbb photocall with the one and only Niall Horan while they watch Harry on the TV screen.

Meanwhile, Harry Styles remembers his past and finds himself on stage with an oscar in hand and, perhaps, his only chance to be free.

Cigarettes and Fuckin’ on the Windowsill by carmelstyle

(NR, 2,4k) Harry comes back from Italy after filming “My Policeman” and stunting. Louis isn’t happy about that last bit.

Or: Sex in front of a window.

Rest in Peace by @stfustucky

(M, 2k) Sometimes, when he looks back on things, there’s a small, angry part of Louis that wishes he’d never met Harry. If he’d just missed that audition, if he’d just stayed in bed, he never would have fallen in love with curly hair and bright green eyes and dimples he’s never gone a day without kissing since. Most times, when he looks back on things, Louis blames himself. The very solar system revolved around Harry and Louis had the closest orbit, flying close enough to feel that warmth in every atom of his body. He should have been paying closer attention, should have opened his eyes and stared into the sun and seen what was happening.

Harry has inoperable brain cancer at the age of 26. Louis watches the love of his life slip away.

guide you home by @nauticalleeds

(G, 0,8k) It’s been a while since Harry’s been able to appreciate the night sky, been a while since his life wasn’t full of hectic schedules and interviews and jet lag. He looks at the sky a little longer, watches the stars blink back at him and thinks about another bright presence he’s been missing.

Taking out his phone from his pocket, he thumbs at his screen to open a new message.

Full moon tonight, he types, and presses send. He keeps the app open, expecting the message to come instantly.

It does.

the peace ring is back in louis' ass? by @greeneyesfriedrice

(E, 1,2k) peace ring adventures with harry and louis! probably not what you expect!

Singing My Name Like Your National Anthem by @letthemusicmoveyou28

(T, 1k) “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Louis just scoffs at that, dismissing Harry quickly yet lovingly in a way that only he has ever seemed to manage. “Good luck getting me to be anywhere else love.”

Harry sighs. “Louis you can’t afford to get sick too. Your album release is next week, you’re booked solid.”

Louis just shrugs. “And if I get sick then we’ll rebook all of it. Or damn it all to Hell for all I care. As much as I want my fans to hear the album, there is nothing more important to me than you.”

✨ Second Time's A Charm by @dizzy-pixie17

(M, 4,7k) “Harry?” Oli Wright said nervously into the phone. “Um… How… how’re you doing?”

Harry’s heart was already picking up speed because there was only one reason Oli ever called him after midnight.

“I’m alright,” Harry answered. “What’s going on? Is it Louis?”

“Uh… yeah,” Oli admitted. “There’s been an accident.”

OR

The one where Harry finds out Louis broke his arm. For the second time in one year.

A Boyfriend for Christmas

(G, 5,5k) Louis' co-worker, Gemma, asks Louis to be her date for Christmas dinner. She needs a fake boyfriend to keep her family from harassing her about her singlehood. Louis adores her, so he doesn't mind helping out--until he meets Gemma's handsome younger brother.

Feeling It Now by @ireallysawanangel

(E, 7k) When Louis hooked up with a hot guy in the bathroom at a music festival, the last thing he was expecting was for that guy to be one of the headlining acts at the festival.

✨ Seal The Deal by @itsnotreal

(NR, 2k) Harry’s been getting Louis Tomlinson’s mail for months, even though he told the mailman that he lived in apartment two and Louis lived in apartment eight.

✨ It's Thursday. Let's Get (un)Dressed by @bananaheathen

(E, 9k) When Louis is peer-pressured into downloading TikTok over the holidays, he fully expects to hate it. And he does hate it. All of it. Well... except for aspiring OOTD influencer, @ harrystyles.

Your Silhouette Over Me by orphan_account

“Alright don’t forget the mission, get Louis laid,” Louis shouted over the music.

“Don’t know who Louis is, but I support it.”

Louis turned towards the contributing voice and saw the bartender leaning in front of him, his elbows resting against the lip of the bar. He had brown hair that fell in loose curls just above his collar bones which were perfectly on show due to the fact that his shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his abdomen. The shirt’s sleeves were cuffed up along his inked bicep and the pattern was something that Louis would expect a dad on vacation to wear, not a young bartender.

“He’s Louis,” Zayn said, jutting his thumb in Louis’ direction.

The bartender nodded approvingly, “then I definitely support it.”

~~~~~~

Or the one where Louis went out one night after work, wanting to get laid, and then ended up meeting a bartender named Harry Styles.

you drive me wild (you know you do) by @missandrogyny

(E, 6,6k) Their management informs them that they have an interview right before the ARIAs, and it isn't until he's in a suit, seated on a couch between Liam and Zayn, that he gets the idea.

The interviewer, Angus, smiles at them, right before the cameras roll on, and a metaphorical light bulb goes off inside Louis' head. He's perfect. Well, not as perfect as Harry, but enough. He's attractive, attractive enough to drive Harry crazy, and he doesn't even think of the consequences of his actions, just decides right then. It's all Harry's fault anyway. Louis should be allowed to have a little fun.

(or: Louis flirts with the Australian interviewers and Harry gets possessive.)

Love In Conversation by @hellolovers13

(T, 4,9k) King Arthur Baking Hotline.

Your bread fell flat. Your cookies crumbled. Who do you turn to? The King Arthur Baker’s Hotline.

or

Louis has a severe baking breakdown.

Thankfully, he gets help from baking-hotline operator Harry.

✨💎 i've secretly always wanted to be yours (and for you to be mine) by @bottomhaztoplou

(M, 1,6k) Harry has just presented. Louis needs to know that he's okay.

Only you by @germericangirl

(E, 4k) Harry comes home from filming a particularly intimate scene for My Policeman. Louis is jealous, Harry doesn’t understand why. They talk it out, more or less…

✨ Whoever, However by @brooklyn-babylon / @twopoppies

(E, 8,9k) Louis could feel his heart rate pick up as he positioned the camera and Harry slowly stood up. They both knew what came next –– it had been clearly outlined in the advert Harry answered. The studio Louis worked for was filming a new series of camboy videos. Louis’ job was to make it look like amateur porn –– sweaty, sensual, dirty –– but well lit and edited. He was an artist, thank you very much.

—-

Or: Louis has a much better day at work than he’d expected.

home at last by @greeneyesfriedrice

(E, 1,9k) Harry turns, a wide smile on his face. Louis stands in the doorway to their shared bedroom, his right arm held close to his body and in a makeshift sling.

He makes sure not to fully ram into his husband, but it’s been almost one month, so sue him if he’s excited.

Everything by @tommokat

(E, 4,3k) He’s got a job he loves, fans he adores, friends to call on and family to claim. He’s traveled the world, broken records, set new ones. He’s 13 years into a relationship with the love of his life, the man he can’t wait to start a family with. He’s a three-time Grammy award winner getting railed by his husband in the back of a SUV in the middle of LA traffic. He’s got everything. What more could he want?

or

Post Grammy’s SUV Celebration Sex

Devil in my brain, whispering my name @lunarheslwt

(E, 9k) Or, Louis, a demon, shows Harry, an angel, just how good it can feel to give in to temptation and sin.

Only You, Always by @larryficwriter

(NR, 5,5k) “Hey Haz,” Louis says, tensing because he can tell that something is wrong. Out of the corner of his eye, Louis sees Liam hurriedly busying himself with the Xbox.

Harry walks over to Louis, eerily calm. Louis’ gulp is so loud he’s almost sure that Niall and Zayn could have heard it. He leans down, his breath tickling at Louis’ ear. Honestly, Louis can’t help the shiver that runs down his spine

“Bedroom.” Harry practically growls into Louis’ ear and then he walks away, just as calm.

For a second Louis is frozen. Just the tone of Harry’s voice has Louis twitching in his trousers. Louis knows what’s about to happen, he can just tell. And it is a far cry from the fight that he had been expecting. Louis gulps again, looking over to Liam. The tips of Liam’s ears are flaming and Louis’ about seventy-three percent sure that Liam had heard what Harry had whispered. Liam is specifically avoiding Louis’ gaze. And then it hits him that he should be up; he should be moving.

or how Harry reacted to the "Lilo Kiss" incident

Won't You Please Come Around by @allwaswell16

(M, 5,8k) Harry has lived in London for a month, and so far the only friend he's made is his sister's cat, Mr. Whiskers. When the lock on the window breaks, Mr. Whiskers begins exploring his new neighbourhood a bit too thoroughly and brings back mementos of his escapes.

Or a Valentine's Day story where Harry has a really fit neighbour, and his cat is a thief.

I Hope You Choke (on those words) by @imogenleewriter

(E, 3k) Harry Styles had been head of security for concert venues for over eight years.

Never in his career had he seen a musician as reckless when it came to personal safety as Louis Tomlinson.

After making his job a living nightmare, Harry decided he needs to talk some sense into Louis.

If only there were some way to shut him up.

You Could Give That Aspirin the Headache of Its Life by @letthemusicmoveyou28

(M, 3,6k) Louis had once heard that the chances of being struck by lightning are 1 in 700,000. He wonders now, how those odds compare to randomly being seated next to your ex boyfriend on a 10 hour flight.

Honestly, if the universe is going to insist on ruining his life, he really would have preferred the lightning thing.

(Or the one where Louis is a football player who gets stuck on a flight with his ex-boyfriend Harry. The universe might be conspiring against him, or is it?)

You Can See It with the Lights Out by @larryatendoftheday

(M, 8,6k) In a universe where you know as soon as you meet your soulmate, Harry's been shaking hands his whole career, waiting for the one.

Things Unsaid by @londonfoginacup

(G, 4,4k) Or, where you have a tattoo of the first thought your soulmate has when they see you.

✨ If the world was ending, you'd come over, right? by @enchantedlandcoffee

(T, 6,3k) "Is Harry with you?" Louis blurted out, his free hand tapping anxiously against his knee.

"Louis?"

"Yeah. Is Harry with you?"

On any other occasion, Louis knew Niall would have yelled at him for calling in the middle of the night. But Niall must've sensed the urgency in his tone, his voice immediately taking on a lighter touch.

"Yeah. Yeah, he's been staying in the spare room. Why? Do you want me to get him for you?"

"No!" Louis panicked. "Just- check on him please? Make sure he's breathing and everything?"

✨ My Arm Might Be Broken, But I Won't Be Broken Down by @boosbabycakes28

(T, 2,4k) Louis broke his arm for the second time and he is bored out of his mind. He has nothing better to do than mess with his husband.

✨ Together We're the Greatest by @hellolovers13

(E, 4,6k) “How the fuck does this always happen to you?” Louis huffed, pulling Harry's limp body into the half fallen apart car he'd borrowed for this. Well, he didn't intend to give it back, really, but insurance covered theft, did it not? And this thing was basically held together with duct tape and good faith, so really, the former owners should thank him for taking it off their hands.

-

It's not the first time Louis has to stitch Harry back together, but Louis will make sure it is the last

With the Bomb Lighting by @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 4k) “Hey mate, sorry for the delay. Pop divas I swear…”

Harry’s eyes jolt open with record speed and he notes in horror that the man that had been filling his fantasies mere seconds ago is now filling his laptop screen.

“Holy shit, is that your dick?”

(Or the one where Harry is doing Zoom interviews to promote his new album, but his time management skills are lacking. Louis is the writer interviewing Harry for Rolling Stone when he accidentally gets an eye full. They figure it out).

the sweetness of your words knows no bounds in making my heart leap by @bottomhaztoplou

(M, 1,4k) At the end of his heat, Harry writes a letter.

At the beginning of his rut, Louis writes one back.

Meant To Be (Arse First) by BayouSexual

(T, 4,8k) Zayn groans in response, and Louis can hear the slow rustle of his bed sheets in the background. “Is it another ‘you woke up in the back parking lot of a Tesco’s with no pants and I need to come get you before the cops do’ panic or more of a 'I can stay in my bed and lend you an ear’ kind of panic, because I drank a lot more than you did last night, Lou.”

“Uhh,” Louis replies eloquently, “more like an 'I have two giant, blood red handprints on my naked arse, and no, they aren't from a good shag’ kind of panic.”

------

Or the one where your soulmate mark appears on your body where they first touch you and stays there until they touch you for the first time.

Aka the one where Louis's soulmate must like bums.

Makes Me Feel Alive by @itsnotreal

(E, 8,3k) Louis hated when people came in to get tattooed and couldn’t sit still— bunch of fucking squares is what they were. If only that had been the issue for his newest client.

Completely Oblivious by @itsnotreal

(G, 1k) “Are we dating?” Harry looked very confused.

Louis huffed, “That’s what I’m asking you!”

Or an interaction with a stranger helps these two finally figure their shit out.

✨💎 Your secret's safe with me by @lightwoodsmagic

(M, 7,4k) He knew almost everything about Haz, considered him his best friend. He knew his favourite movies and books, how he liked his coffee, knew how many pets he had and what he was most afraid of. Louis knew how to calm him down when he was panicking, and that he’d lost his virginity to his ex-boyfriend when he was 17. He knew that Haz had curly hair, green eyes, that he was tall and considered himself slightly awkward. He knew his Instagram account that only had aesthetic pictures or ridiculous jokes, but in the all the time that Louis had known him, he’d never learnt, or been allowed to know, Haz’s full name, what he sounded like, or what he looked like.

Louis didn't care.

Or, when Louis' favourite singer comes back and announces he's performing again, him and the rest of his group chat decide to go. When Haz, the man Louis' fallen in love with without meeting him, says that he can't, Louis tries his best to convince him with a drunken phone call, hearing his voice for the first time. It's not until he's at Royal Variety that he swears he can hear it again.

✨ Let The Ocean Worry About Being Blue by @greenblueish

(E, 5,6k) In a society where young adults go through the so-called Colour Test which determines their affiliation to a Colour - Blue, Yellow, Red or Green - and thus where they'll live, work and socialise for the rest of their lives, Harry is finally about to take the Test. Born and raised in Yellow, he met his boyfriend when he was still a teenager - against the government's recommendation. Louis, however, changed from Yellow to Blue two years ago. The problem: Harry needs to receive a Blue Test result as well, because a relationship between two people who live in different Colours is forbidden.

The Touch of Your Hand by @larry-hiatus

(E, 8,2k) Louis has decided to bite the bullet and get himself a dick piercing. He knows it’s going to hurt, but what he doesn’t know is how to calm down when he finds himself on the brink of a panic attack in front of the incredibly attractive piercer, Harry. Luckily, Harry is really sweet and offers to help ease his nerves.

You Don’t Have to Be Lonely Tonight by @neondiamond

(G, 2k) Louis is stuck working the Christmas day shift at the coffee shop. Harry is the sad stranger who comes in to spend the day there.

✨ In Jest by @londonfoginacup

(T, 4,8k) Louis, who smiles at Harry as he reclines in his chair. Louis, whose soulmark is visible thanks to his low-cut top.

Louis, Harry’s soulmate, who seems to either be blissfully ignorant of that fact or maliciously ignoring it.

Harry would really like to know which.

✨ you give me feelings that i adore by @alwaysxlarrie

(T, 7,6k) Harry doesn’t mean to fall in love with Louis’ scent when they first meet after the Alpha joins Harry's study group, but after Harry leaves a sweater behind by accident and it comes back smelling like Louis, he can’t really help it. Nor can he really help continuing to leave his things behind in hopes that Louis will take them home and drench them in his wonderful, mouth-watering scent. He just has to hope Louis will play along.

Or, 5 times Louis scents Harry's things and the 1 time Harry returns the gesture.

We All Scream for Ice Cream by @wishingforloushair

(M, 3,1k) Harry snatched the flyer back off the noticeboard, waving it at Liam. “BJ in your PJs?” he repeated.

“What? I’m not giving you a blowjob, Harry,” Liam said, looking slightly affronted.

“See?” Harry rounded on Niall. “No one thinks of Ben and Jerry’s when they read BJ.”

“Well, they should,” Niall said, snatching the flyer back. “Not everyone is a disgusting heathen like you two.”

“It says BJ in your PJs?” Liam asked, sounding aghast. “On all the flyers?”

“You told me it was catchy!”

When Resident Advisor Liam left his boyfriend Niall, and Niall's roommate Harry in charge of advertising the end of semester ice cream celebration for their hall residents, he should've expected it to end in disaster. Niall created an entirely inappropriate flyer, offering a very different experience than what they were planning to offer. When distributing the flyers, Harry meets Louis, an older student studying Drama, who is far more interested in BJs that doesn't involve Ben and Jerry's.

AKA crack/fluff with a bit of smut, based off of that one viral poster 'BJs in your PJs'

✨💎 Odds Are That We Will Probably Be... by @lululawrence

(NR, 0,6k) From the moment Louis learned no one would survive past the evening, the only thing he knew was that he had to get to Harry.

✨ I Knew From the First Time by @lululawrence

(NR, 6,1k) Or the one where Harry definitely doesn't take a sneaky pic of Louis on the Tube. Absolutely not. (Except maybe he does.)

All You Want's Under Your Nose by @wishingforloushair

(E, 3,5k) Louis decides to treat himself to a new sex toy, but is perplexed when he sees a man in the shop placing each vibrator against the tip of his nose and sneezing. Curiosity gets the better of him, and it turns out the man, Harry, is a sex-god who knows far too much about sex toys and promises Louis that if a vibrator makes him sneeze it will definitely make him come. Of course there's only one way to find out for sure...

On Love's Doorstep by @hellolovers13

(T, 1,6k) Harry Styles: a day in the life

☑ Stuck in a dress

☑ Abandoned by his best friend

☑ Date with hot neighbour

All in all, not the worst day ever

If Life Is a Photograph by @allwaswell16

(T, 2k) Harry gets plucked out of the crowd to take Louis’ crew pic on stage in Guadalajara.

It Was Electric Touch by @allwaswell16

(E, 2,2k) Harry, assistant to The Snuts' manager, has been indulging in fantasies about the headliner and founder of the Away From Home Festival, Louis Tomlinson. He gets the chance to indulge in the real thing at the after party.

Just Two Stars Passing By by QuickedWeen

(E, 5,1k) Harry blew up on TikTok and became a fashion commentator during the pandemic. Now, all of a sudden, big channels are asking him to cover their red carpets and premieres. Somehow he ends up covering arrival fashion for the 2024 Euros, and somehow Louis Tomlinson already knows his name.

A Late Summer Day by @gettingaphdinmomo

(NR, 0,5k) Today

I realized

you are home.

I almost told you

I love you.

Figure This Out by @haztobegood

(E, 2,4k) Louis is everything Harry could have imagined when he’d typed “silver fox enthusiast” into his Grindr profile. Too bad he's probably scared Louis off by giving him too many expensive gifts.

✨ Booked and Busy by @insightfulinsomniac

(E, 9,2k) Booking the Away from Home Festival is the biggest opportunity of Harry’s up-and-coming career to date. It’s just an added bonus that the festival is hosted and headlined by his longtime celebrity crush, world-renowned rockstar Louis Tomlinson.

Despite his excitement, doesn’t expect Louis to watch his set. Or to visit his dressing room ahead of his show to wish him good luck.

Or to flirt with him.

But seeing as this is the most monumental night of Harry’s life to date, he might as well make the most of it.

***

A fluffy, smutty PWP where Harry performs at AFH 2024 and gets a lot more than he bargained for.

.🌸🌸🌸.

✨ you gave me a ring, lad! by @theeliampayne

(G, 0,2k, Liam & Louis) In which Liam visits Louis at a concert and "give me a ring, lad!" is taken more literally than Louis intended.

like air to me by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(M, 5,3k, Louis/Zayn) Five times Louis’ smoke break brings back memories of Zayn and one time it brings him back to Zayn’s doorstep.

.🌸🌸🌸.

🌿 part 1 (+50k) 🌿 part 2 (30-50k) 🌿 part 3 (10-30k) 🌿

[chevroletdean]

sibling!reader dealing with demon!dean headcanons (req.) ── ✮⋆˙

Pairing: None, just platonic Winchester!Reader (fem) and her brothers Genre: Angst, fluff To note/warnings: Hurt/comfort, grief (temporary character death, as in Sam and Reader think Dean died), canon level violence A/N: A great way to start the year is definitely getting a cool request by @midnight--raine! Tysm, dear, your praise means a lot to me <3 and I 100% agree, Demon!Dean is terrifying. Still my favorite arc ever, because I’m a sucker for the nitty, gritty, dark and scary, but yes. Credit & links: dividers ──〃★ request here

Sam’s heart breaks twice that day. For one, there is the crushing grief that comes with watching the life disappear from his brother’s eyes. Then the realization: How could he possibly tell his sister what happened? Dean’s death is tearing him apart, and he knows it will absolutely destroy her.

There’s no easy way to deliver the news. But, alas, he’s spending a good amount of time sitting alone in the Impala, Dean’s lifeless body in the backseat. The ride back to the bunker was the hardest ever, the silence nearly driving him insane. Sam is thinking back and forth on what to say, what to do.

He knows waltzing in, carrying the corpse is not an option. If anything, Sam doesn’t want her to see Dean like that at all. Though he figures she’ll probably want to see for herself.

She probably already knows something bad happened the second Sam enters the bunker. Of course she does, her brothers have trained her to stay alert 24/7, to look at her surroundings with a keen eye — Dean would be so proud of her people reading skill right now. Sam’s by himself and his expression… he’s devastated, though he tries to keep it together for her sake. It can only mean one thing.

It feels wrong right away. She can tell. It’s obvious when he doesn’t answer her questions. “Where’s Dean?” Silence. It speaks volumes. “It’s not funny, this is a dumb prank.” Sam still can’t bring himself to speak up.

She runs past him, straight outside to look for Dean, even when Sam tries to stop her.

Sam’s glad he thought of draping a jacket over Dean’s body before talking to his sister. She shouldn’t have to see her brother so lifeless, after all. This view alone, even just through the car window, is enough to traumatize her.

What happened isn’t his fault, but Sam still apologizes over and over again. He can just stand there and feel guilty while he’s holding her shaky form.

It’s not their first rodeo with death and while it doesn’t make it any less sad, her tears convince Sam even more that he has to fix this, somehow.

That night she can’t sleep. Nothing can console her, not even Sam. Though she is grateful to have him at her side.

It’s the same for Sam, honestly. With both of them restless, they dig through the library, they try to find anything to bring Dean back.

In the end, she’ll probably fall asleep right at the desk, her eyes heavy and sore from crying and reading. It’s not a peaceful slumber by all means, it’s more like her brain and body just shut down.

Sam carries her to her room, but the second he tucks her into bed and wants to leave again, she wakes and sobs again.

She’s terrified to spend the night alone, nightmares haunting her. If it were for her, she’d be up and in the library again, but Sam manages to make her agree to a compromise: She will try and get some rest and he will stay with her.

None of them get another wink of sleep that night, she’s staining Sam’s shirt with tears while he’s busy brushing his fingers through her hair.

The next couple of days are rough. The bunker feels like a graveyard, Dean’s presence is definitely missing.

She finds herself wanting to prank her brother like every morning — she’d always exchange his shampoo bottle with the ketchup bottle, shed secretly put a Celine Dion cassette in the Impala. Now, there’s no point for any of that.

Instinctively she grabs onto any piece of Dean she still has. She takes one of his shirts to wear, his scent still lingering in the fabric. She doesn’t touch the piece of pie in the fridge, which she’d usually steal, but she wants to keep it there, preserve it, just in case Dean will magically return.

When Dean’s body disappears, it’s like losing him all over again at first. He’s suddenly gone, again, and panic sets in. And it feels even more permanent. However, it’s also a glimmer of hope, right? He has to be somewhere, so is he alive after all?

Sam’s more reluctant to get his hopes up high. He’s dealt with heavy losses before. Seeing his sister motivated to find Dean is a double-edged sword. It’s the first time since Dean’s death that he sees her eyes sparkle again. But he’s also scared she’ll break down even more when this turns out to be another tragedy.

It’s because of that very reason that Sam’s working on this without telling his sister. He hates keeping secrets from her, he hates lying to her, but he can’t bring himself to feed into her delusions only for her to end up even more hurt. So, when he’s able to track Dean down, he’s not telling anyone.

It bites him in the ass. While Sam’s out trying to find Dean, Dean’s already on the way to find her.

She looks like she’s seen a ghost, honestly. Wide eyes staring at him and filled with tears. Suddenly all her hunting skills are out the window. She doesn’t care to throw holy water at him, she doesn’t think of nicking him with silver. Demons, skinwalkers, none of it exists to her in that moment. All she can think about is her big brother being back.

She jumps right into his arms, scolding him, whining and sniffling and hugging him with a death grip.

Dean’s quiet, eerily so, but that’s not enough to make her suspect anything just yet. Maybe he’s tired, maybe she’s confused, it’s so much all at once. She refuses to let go of him, afraid he’ll slip away again, so she drags him to the kitchen and happily presents the piece of pie to him.

Dean doesn’t even touch it. Hell, he’s not even looking at it.

She quickly texts Sam, letting him know Dean’s back at the bunker. Then, when she looks up from her phone again and sees Dean not eating, she’s starting to get doubtful.

Dean not digging into pie? Is he sick or something? “You okay?”

There’s a grin on Dean’s lips that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and it feels off. It feels dangerous. “Never felt better.”

The wheels are turning in her head and her blood runs cold. She didn’t do any of the routine checks. Why didn’t she do any of the routine checks? Sam and Dean have taught her better, but she was so caught up in the moment and…

Her phone buzzes and Sam’s reply is simple. ‘That is not Dean.’ Her eyes widen. ‘Demon. Get away.’

The three or four seconds she spent looking at her phone are what almost gets her killed. It’s plenty of time for Dean to grab the kitchen knife and aim it at his sister instead of the pie.

She manages to dodge, somehow, although Dean makes it sound like he just enjoys playing with his prey. As his eyes turn jet-black, she knows she’s in trouble.

“I’ll give you a headstart, sis,” he hums and even his voice sounds so twisted, so wrong.

“Headstart?,” she echoes. “Dean, please, you don’t wanna—”

“Ten… Nine…”

He absolutely wants to. Sam’s right, this isn’t Dean. Not their Dean.

She bolts out of the kitchen as fast as she can. The bunker is big, but the problem remains that they all know it inside and out — where can she possibly hide? Should she lock herself in the dungeon? Should she ditch the place altogether?

“Six… Five…”

Panicked, she just makes a run for it, not knowing where to quite yet, but knowing it had to be away. As far away as possible. She scrambles to find a weapon, anything to fend off a demon, though she hates the thought of fighting against Dean. Not only would she not stand a chance against her brother, she could never bring herself to harming him or his vessel.

“Ready or not here I come.”

She’s definitely not ready. He could’ve given her a minute, an hour, a freakin’ year, nothing could prepare her for such a chase.

Stupidly, she decides to hide in Dean’s room. It’s far from the safest option, but it’s where her feet have carried her. She can’t really think of any room in the bunker that could protect her from the demonic version of her brother, but here at least, she’s surrounded by happy memories, right?

She’s holding her breath, clutching Ruby’s knife in her trembling hand.

It’s only through a trick that she’s able to survive. Of course, Dean finds her, but she’s fast and able to (a) distract him long enough to make preparations and (b) then lure him to the dungeons.

Dean’s not dumb, he knows there’s a devil’s trap. But he didn’t know there were two of them. She’s haphazardly drawn one he didn’t see until he is standing in it.

Bless all the times she has cursed in the past. She has complained to Sam so often whenever he had forced her to practice drawing pentagrams. She’ll make sure to thank him for it later.

Speaking of the devil, Sam returns just a bit later. He must’ve broken several traffic laws racing back to the bunker, but between that and his sister’s safety, she obviously came first.

He thought she’d be pissed at him for lying to her, but she has a priority too right now: Turning Dean into a human again.

It’s definitely not an easy task. More specifically, it’s downright nauseating to witness the purification process. Dean’s clearly suffering, the pain must be agonizing, but they are able to heal him.

Dean’s back, and he’s human again and it’s all she could’ve ever asked for.

Now, for Dean? Shit, he won’t be able to look into the mirror for a very long time. He always sees himself as the family’s protector. His siblings are his world and to think he attacked his baby sister? It’s killing him.

He feels so guilty he��s not able to look her in the eyes, let alone talk to her or touch her.

Which is why when she hugs him, clinging to his form sobbing, he thinks he doesn’t deserve that kind of trust. His greatest fear is that she’s now scared of him. She’d have every right to be, he attacked her with a damn knife.

“It wasn’t you. It was your body, but not your mind. I mean, that thing comes up with all sorts of dumb things, but not that kind of dumb.”

He can’t help but chuckle at that, of course she’s already back to sibling banter. How she manages to pretend like nothing happened is beyond him.

The events stick with him for a very long time, they never fully disappear from his conscience. He wishes he could wipe the memory of your panicked eyes from his brain, but that image will still haunt him in his grave.

Something has changed though. His shampoo is shampoo and his cassettes are his cassettes. There’s always pie in the fridge and she’s not playing any pranks on him anymore.

It makes him feel even worse. Especially when she explains to him that she’d rather be nice to her pain-in-the-ass brother and have him alive than be mean and have him dead.

“You know one thing doesn’t have anything to do with the other, right?”

It almost sounds like she’s blaming herself. As if Dean’s death was her punishment for bickering 24/7. It’s not right, if anyone should be feeling guilty, it’s him. And he does. God, he does.

It’s very obvious that she’s more afraid of losing him again than she is of the monster he’s become.

He’s set out on playing double the amount of pranks on her then, in hopes of getting some normalcy back. Of reminding his little sister that he’s still here, he’ll always be there. He’ll always be her pain-in-the-ass brother that’ll look out for her and keep her safe and play pranks on her.

When one morning he finds his toothbrush in a jar of pickles, bristles soaked in the vinegar-y liquid, it’s a small victory. Her post-it note with a smug smiley drawn on it is a step in the right direction.

Dean Winchester Taglist (Put a green heart 💚 in the comments to be added to the Dean x Reader taglist): @ladysparkles78 @ariasong11 @winchester-whiskey @whormotional @spacecowgirl126

@zepskies @calibootsgirl @hot-and-confused @spookyfunhottub @berryblues46

@midnight--raine @emmy21842 @whichwitchwanda @foxyjwls007 @lyarr24

@whump-loverz @cassieriddle713 @ilovedeanwinchester4

Sam Winchester Taglist (Put a book emoji 📚 in the comments to be added to the Sam x Reader taglist): @s7nburn @whump-loverz

Please note: Ageless blogs will only be tagged in fluff and angst posts!

[seethesin]

peace and quiet

pairing: Villanelle x Assassin!F!Reader

tags/warnings: sexual content, car sex, dirty talk, fingering, edging (18+, mdni)

a/n: bet ya didn't see this coming 😏 truthfully, i've had this scenario on my mind for about a month now. i had to write this before i got through the rest of my drafts. im also a bottom!villanelle fan oops enjoy! gif credit.

The last way you wanted to spend your Friday evening was stuck in a Ford Fiesta with the world's most infuriating assassin, Villanelle. But here you both were, cramped and cranky as you wasted hours watching a man go through his nightly routine. Truthfully, you didn't know much about your target except his name, James Fitzgerald. His dossier was light and you suspected that further information wasn't yours to know.

As your handler would say: the less you knew, the better.

Silently, you watched as James moved from room to room in his home; starting in his bedroom, wandering into the kitchen, and finally, settling into the living room. Couldn't the Twelve have a vendetta against someone more interesting?

The blonde next to you must have thought the same thing. Immediately, she turned the radio on, flicking through the stations until she hummed in approval.

"Oh, I love Britney," she muses, beginning to sing along to the chorus of Womanizer as it pumps through the car's surround sound system.

You refrain from groaning.

"Villanelle, I need you to stop." Your voice is strained as your eyes are trained in front of you.

She's completely off-key but sings without a care in the world. Obviously, she's ignoring you and you exhale slowly, squeezing your eyes shut. Villanelle was good at what she did. Great even. But her hyperactive nature and flair for dramatics made you dread any time the two of you had to work together.

It wasn't just her obnoxious nature that made it so difficult for you to work with her. From the outlandish yet stylish outfits she donned to the way she held herself on and off the job, you thought she was stunning. But now, being in such close quarters only seemed to intensify those feelings. Your stomach did somersaults at each pesky thought, unable to get them out of your head quick enough. Entertaining those ideas was a distraction you couldn't afford.

Not in this line of work.

It's just one mission, you find yourself thinking, blinking your eyes open. I just need to get through one mission with her and then—

And then you will work with her again when the Twelve will it. You will still have these terribly ridiculous feelings that you will, once again, have to dissect like you are now. You grit your teeth and instead focus your boring gaze on James Fitzgerald's wrinkled forehead.

Wordlessly, you turn the radio knob towards you, muting the music so you can focus. Villanelle's contralto voice cuts through the silence like a blade and it takes her a few moments to realize what you've done.

"Hey! I was having fun!"

You roll your eyes, tapping your fingertips against the steering wheel.

"I wasn't."

Villanelle scoffs, feigning offense before leaning back. Aggressively, she adjusts her seat, allowing it to fully recline. She lays down, eyes glued to the car ceiling before crossing her arms over her chest petulantly.

You were ready to further accentuate her childishness as she muttered about how you were a 'party pooper,' but paused. James was getting up and walking towards his front door. He was letting someone inside, holy shit! This needed to be documented.

In the dark, you felt for your phone that was supposed to be on the console. Miscalculating, you reached over farther than necessary and instead grabbed—

Villanelle gasped, body arching forward.

Oh.

Your fingers gripped the flesh of her inner thigh, dangerously close to the hem of her shift dress. Blush immediately crawls over your cheeks and you become a stammering mess.

"Oh my god," you ramble, going to remove your hand. "I'm so sorry, Villanelle. I thought that—"

You don't get to finish your sentence. Her hand is over yours and she shoves your palm in between her legs. The wet cotton of her underwear greets your fingers and the heat it emits makes you flatline.

This wasn't real. None of this could be real.

"I know how you look at me."

The statement throws you off kilter and you gape like a fish. Were you that obvious? The idea makes you nauseous; how the hell did Villanelle know your feelings better than you could even comprehend them?

"Stop thinking," she husks and her confidence seems to spread to you like wildfire.

James Fitzgerald and his unannounced guest are long forgotten as you shift in your seat, turning to face Villanelle. Your finger pads inquisitively drag up the length of her clothed slit. Her breathing grows heavier the closer you stroke towards her clit. You can make out her teeth digging into her lower lip and the mischievous glint in her eyes as she stares back at you.

She’s begging you to keep her entertained.

Cautiously, you pull your hand away. The loss of contact squeezes a whimper from her throat, but it dies as she watches you slip two fingers between your lips. You suck slowly, refusing to break eye contact with her before releasing them with a soft pop. You don’t miss the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

“Are you going to behave?” Villanelle nods like a bobblehead, practically rutting her body closer to where your hand used to be.

You chuckle. “Good girl.”

Wet fingers glide up her bare leg, meeting at the junction just below her thigh and cunt. Gently, your fingers worm underneath the waistband of her underwear. Painfully slow, you tug them down so that they pool at her knees. They are soaked and the sound of the blonde’s panting is amplified in the enclosed quiet of the car.

"Oh baby," you taunt, watching as she presses her thighs together. You want to swallow her whole.

"Is this all for me?"

"Yes," she sighs out instantaneously, parting her legs as your hand connects back to her cunt.

Your middle finger delicately slides through Villanelle's folds, exploring her velvety flesh. Tracing circles around her labia, you finally brush just underneath her clit. She jerks forward, desperately chasing your touch.

"Villanelle." Her name is a warning on your tongue, tutting gently as you watch her squirm. Your middle finger is fixed in the same position and her fingers curl around your wrist.

"Be nice," she pleads and no matter what your plan was initially, you couldn't deny her further. You nod and gently, your middle finger sinks inside her.

Villanelle tenses momentarily, adjusting to the intrusion before relaxing. She squeezes your wrist, silently goading you to move. You comply, thrusting deeper inside of her.

Your finger moves leisurely at first, more so to savor the first-time feeling of her silky flesh enveloping you. Gradually, you pick up the pace. Her slick drools down the length of your finger and the obscene squelching makes you blush.

Thank god for the dark.

A stream of moans bubbles from Villanelle's throat as her fingernails dig into your wrist. Her other hand moves to her lips, her teeth sinking into the knuckle of her index finger to muffle herself. In response, your finger curls inside of her. She keens, her eyes rolling back as she shoves her hips forward.

"Don't do that," you chide, pumping against the spongy walls of her cunt. "I want everyone to hear how good I'm gonna fuck you."

Her gaze peeks through her lashes, blinking in surprise at the vulgarity of your statement. She's beautifully flushed and the image is seared into your mind. Your ring finger presses inside of her and she gasps, finally removing her hand from her mouth.

"Don't be mean," Villanelle mewls and you can't stop the smile tugging at your lips.

By now, the windows have fogged over in the car. The air between you has risen at least ten degrees higher and you match Villanelle's ragged panting, hyperfocused on every expression she makes. Her hair fans out like a golden halo, illuminating her furrowed brows and parted lips. You want to kiss her, but you instead settle for swiping your thumb across her clit.

Villanelle's chest heaves when you suddenly piston your fingers inside her. She sloppily pushes down to meet your thrusts while her head lolls back against the car seat. By the way her walls fluttered against your sheathed digits, you knew her orgasm was imminent.

James Fitzgerald's departure was also imminent.

Suddenly, the flash of headlights appears in your peripheral vision. A midsized sedan rushes past the front of your rental car. James is driving while his guest in question is in the passenger seat. Your eyes go wide; the memory of exactly why you and Villanelle were here to begin with hits you like a truck.

You withdraw your fingers from Villanelle's pussy and she cries out in both confusion and frustration. Scrambling, she pulls the seat back up so she can properly glower at you.

"What the fuck?" She yells, softening only slightly as she watches you suck your fingers clean before putting the car in drive.

"It's James," you start, pressing the defogger button near the bottom of the dashboard. "I'm gonna tail him."

"I was about to cum!"

You glance at Villanelle quickly as she complains, tossing a cocky smirk in her direction.

"I guess you'll just have to wait then."

[sevcasejay1chicago]

Overstimulated- Jay, Kelly, and Matt

Summary: Your day didn’t turn out the way you had hoped, ending in you snapping at your boyfriends.

Warnings: descriptions of panic attack, LaNgUaGe

——————

It’s been a while since you’ve been this overstimulated. You made specific changes in your life in hopes of avoiding this moment. Your three favorite people are sat, in stunned silence, after you just got up and snapped at them. You never snap. All of you joke about how you are the most chill person in this relationship. Today, you’ve had it.

It was suppose to be a peaceful Saturday morning. All of you were off, which was a rare occurrence for a Saturday in and of itself. The original plan was to sleep in and then have a lazy movie day. Of course, that got derailed when one of your UCs called for an assistant, dragging you out of bed at 0745.

Then, your mom decided to call and bicker about your relationship with the boys. She started the conversation like she had thought about it and was finally on board with the relationship, but she quickly exited that ship before she blew it up right in your face. It had made your day much worse, but after you had a good cry in the parking garage of your building, you had felt a little better.

Now, you were just upset that nobody could agree on a movie. All you wanted was to finally watch a movie with your favorite guys, but they wouldn’t stop arguing over who had the better movie idea. Now, your popcorn was cold, your favorite snacks were still left untouched, and you were pacing the living room while shaking your hands out and attempting to even your breathing.

Kelly had to be the one to break the silence. “What’s gotten into you? You’ve been pretty crabby all day.” Kelly shot at you, no real heat behind the words, but that didn’t matter in your state.

“What’s a matter with me? You really wanna fucking know?” You asked, stopping to yell as you spoke directly at him, seeing Jay shrink a bit in the corner of your eye. He’s never seen you like this. None of them have, but he can tell something isn’t quite right. “My day was ruined when I got an early morning wake up call, then my mom laid into me about our relationship, again. All I wanted was to have a nice movie night and eat junk and then go to bed and start over tomorrow but you guys won’t just pick a damn movie and hold me!” You shouted, tears threatening to spill.

“Well baby, I’m sorry, but we didn’t know any of this. You gotta tell us these things. We can let you pick the movie and just go about our night. We are sorry we made things worse.” Matt said, always the fixer, but that just upset you more.

You shook your hands harder, closing your eyes and trying to focus on breathing through the sobs that were threatening to escape. “I-I can’t. I love you guys, but I can’t right n-.”

In your panic, you hadn’t seen or heard Jay get up and approach you, bringing you into his arms. You immediately stopped when you smelled his cologne and buried your face into his neck. You were still trying to be strong, but it was hard with Jay’s lips next to your ear, a hand running through your hair and the other running up and down your back.

“Shhhhh baby.” Jay whispered calmly. “Follow me. If you need to cry, cry, but you need to breathe.” Jay coached, slowly rocking you back and forth as you let out a sob into his neck. “There you go. I have you now. Your safe.” Jay soothed, kissing the side of your head.

The other two wondered off as Jay continued to consol you. They grabbed some wet cloths, Jay’s army hoodie, your favorite blanket, your anxiety meds, and some tissue. When they got back, Jay was sat back on the couch, you sitting in his lap, wrapped around him like a koala.

“Think she got overwhelmed. That’s a lot to happen in a day, especially when you try to do it all on your own.” Jay explained, still caressing you.

The other two nodded, sheepishly handing over their items like apology gifts. Jay ended up helping you clean your face before you allowed Matt to slide the hoodie over your head and Kelly to toss the blanket over you and Jay.

“We didn’t mean to upset you further sweetheart. I’m so sorry I snapped back at you in the moment. I should have noticed something was bothering you with your change in behavior.” Kelly said, sitting on one side of Jay.

“And I’m sorry for being overwhelming with how badly I wanted to fix it. I know what overstimulation feels like and I also know that it doesn’t really help when someone tries to reason.” Matt said, lightly rubbing your arm.

“And I’m sorry for yelling.” You said, sitting up slightly and playing with the strings on the hoodie. “I was really frustrated this morning and then my mom just really made me overwhelmed and sad. I just got way too overstimulated and I couldn’t stop it. I’m sorry for taking it out on you guys.” You said, not looking up.

Jay gently tilted your chin up. “Hey. You know that we still love you. We all have bad days and snap when we don’t mean to.”

“Us more than you.” Kelly added in.

“So, we totally get it. Just please tell us how you feel next time. Okay?” Jay asked, wiping the fresh tears from your eyes.

You nodded, allowing Matt to help you blow your nose.

“Now, what do you say we watch Y/F/M, eat all these snacks, and then turn in early. How does that sound?” Jay asks, helping you adjust in his lap.

“Sounds amazing.” You whispered, getting comfy as Kelly began the movie.

Tag list:

@treehouse-mouse

@shadowmeadowsworld

@sorry-i-spaced

@zephyrmonkey

@allisonargent144

@amie134

@lane-rodgers-barnes

@pensfan5871

@dumb-fawkin-bitch

@marvel-and-chicago-fan

@daggersquadphantom

@stellakiddsblog

@100yroldteenagers

@senjoritanana

@celtic-shadow-wolf

@starset21

@mrspeacem1nusone

[crisiscutie]

Inside Out AU

Inside Out has been on my mind lately, and I thought to myself, why not do an Inside Out AU featuring Fluffy Sephiroth from my Domestic AU? I think this makes sense as within the Domestic AU, Sephiroth is not only exploring fatherhood as a major faucet of his life but also exploring new parts of himself that he never had the chance to do when he was Shinra's ultimate weapon. So for this, it's a great thing that his emotions are prepared to navigate him in this new life!

So, here's an introduction to Sephiroth's emotions!

Joy: Sephiroth's joy represents the happiness he feels, particularly from his family and the happiness he gets from doing what he loves. Joy is incredibly protective of Sephiroth's happiness since he didn't get very much (honestly, hardly anything) during his time in SOLDIER, which can lead to her making rather questionable decisions and go out of line against the other emotions. Joy always tries to make the best out of anything, even during Sephiroth's darkest moments.

Anger: Sephiroth's anger manages his sense of justice (which is carefully watched by other emotions so it doesn't become vengeance). He also shares the disciplinary father role with Pride and his protective instincts with Fear. You can always expect anger to step up to the console whenever Sephiroth's family is threatened in some way, old enemies making themselves known to him, or the triplets being wild and overbearing. Sometimes Anger goes overboard, but thankfully, he's usually tempered by Sephiroth's Joy and/or Love.

Sadness: Sephiroth's sadness helps him empathize/sympathize with others and also reflects on his past. This is incredibly important for Sephiroth as he had little opportunities to be vulnerable before his time with Domestic Darling. Sadness also ensures that Sephiroth stays grounded and true to himself. Once he was a weapon, but now, he's a free man and a loving father. Also, she is necessary to remind Sephiroth to make the most of the good moments by reminding him of what he didn't have before.

Fear: Sephiroth's fear is responsible for his survival instincts and vigilance. He makes sure that Sephiroth is always aware of the ways to protect himself, his family and their peace. If Sephiroth overhears a conversation between villagers about Shinra sending a survey team to the nearby reactor, fear is immediately hitting a button on the control panel to make Sephiroth look around and order the children to get going on their way home. Fear is usually right in knowing what's best for Sephiroth's safety: because you could never know when Shinra will raid the village looking for two of their First Class SOLDIERS or one of the kids opening a door to see the turks before them.

He keeps Sephiroth's anger in check (which may or may not fail) whenever his territorial or protective tendencies get provoked, often reminding him of what could happen if he goes too far.

Disgust: Sephiroth's disgust is responsible for filtering anything that could threaten Sephiroth's collected exterior and also, along with Pride, helps Sephiroth maintain his gracefulness. If his triplet boys are causing total messes in their rooms or the kitchen, you can always expect Disgust to know what exactly needs to be cleaned and how, all while making Sephiroth express disdain for it. She also tries to prevent from Sephiroth from engaging in antics that are far beneath him.

Pride: The purpose of Sephiroth's pride is that he is proud of his accomplishments and achievements, whether they are past and present. He keeps sadness in check to ensure that Sephiroth doesn't dwell too much on the past and doesn't have low self-esteem.

A good way to describe his outfit is to imagine Sephiroth's military ball outfit. He also makes sure Sephiroth is a stern but fair teacher to his children and also shares the protector of the family role with anger. He often guides Sephiroth's actions during sparring times or helps anger when Sephiroth is fighting a threat (with some guidance from fear.)

Love: The last but not least. Sephiroth's Love was once his weakest emotion, starting off as a fragile and sickly girl who was mostly in Joy's shadow, but as Sephiroth bonded more and more with Domestic Darling, she became stronger. Now, as a tall and powerful woman, perhaps one can argue in that she is the lead emotion in Sephiroth's mind. After all, he only ran away with Darling in the first place out of love for her.

Love handles Sephiroth's connection to darling and his children, nurturing those connections at any opportunity. She guides every move of Sephiroth during intimate moments with darling as well, though other emotions certainly try to get in on it as well at times! 😂

An important difference from Joy is that Love is more tender and reserved, but still every bit of confident and strong.

Any ideas, thoughts or questions? Let me know! Next, maybe I could share his Islands of Personality and other emotions!

[novaksupremacy]

The Backseat of My Car- Casey Novak x Alex Cabot

soooo, a little Friday morning smutty treat for my loves. ❤️ I was told part 2 of This is My Office was needed and since it'll be a while before I even get to this chapter, here's a present 😜 consider it a peace offering that it may take me a few days for Chapter 7 😅 (also if someone could teach my goofy ass how to format so that things indent properly, I'll love you forever!)

"Don't beat yourself up, that was a tough case." Casey consoled her girlfriend as they walked through the parking garage, "you know there's always the possibility that a juror will be sympathetic towards one of these crackpots."

Alex was seething mad, "Langan's just lucky I don't feel like spending the rest of my life in jail or I'd have him strung up by his testicles!"

The redhead's lip curled in disgust. She stopped walking and grabbed Alex's hand. "Babe I would really rather not think about you anywhere near that man's testicles, or any man's testicles for that matter.

"Sorry," the blonde frowned, "he just makes me so mad I could spit. I can't believe I ever went on a date with that man." She went to start walking again.

The younger ADA stopped again and pulled Alex back towards her, "Okay, what? I don't know what's worse, you, talking about his nuts or the fact that you went out with him.

Alex chuckled, "It was one date, we never made it passed the bar. I really just needed info on a case."

Casey smirked, "Ah yeah because that makes it better." She giggled and pulled her closer, "Just remember who you belong to, Alexandra Cabot."

"How could I ever forget," the Bureau Chief leaned in and kissed her girlfriend.

The redhead rested her free hand against the blonde's thigh. Her eyes lit up when she realized she was still strapped from earlier. "Babe? Your windows are tinted right?"

"Darker than they should be actually, I have to put the DA placard in the window just to avoid getting ticketed. Why?" Casey shot her a look that could only be construed as mischievous.

 "Oh. OH. Backseat." Alex said excitedly.

Both women slid into the backseat of the BMW and Casey closed the door behind them. She wasted no time tossing the blue eyed beauty's glasses into the front seat and grabbing her around the neck, pulling her in to a messy, heated kiss.

Alex chuckled as she started unbuttoning her shirt.

"What's so funny?" the redhead mused, laughing if only because Alex was.

"I feel like a teenager." This was the most relaxed the Bureau Chief had been in as long as she could remember, being with Casey felt-- effortless. "In a good way that is" she said reassuringly.

"Oh yeah? Is this what Alexandra Cabot was like in high school? Riding in cars with boys?" Her girlfriend said teasingly. "I don't know about this then, I like mature, collected, no nonsense ADA Alex Cabot Bureau Chief extraordinaire."

The blonde grabbed Casey by her collar. "The only person who's going to be riding anything is you riding me in a minute and don't worry dear, I know what it is you like." She whispered as she kissed the redhead with force, she was starving for something only Casey could satiate.

"Fuck," Casey sighed. "Alex do you have to be so damn sexy constantly."

"Do you want me to stop?" She smirked as she ruined the second one of Casey's shirts today, buttons scattering to the cars floor mats.

The younger ADAs breath hitched, “No. Don’t. Stop.” She whispered playfully pausing between words as she pulled open Alex's belt and fly. She bit her lip hard, "mmm I want to try something okay? But don't think I'm weird."

Alex's blue eyes look into her hazel green ones with curiosity. "Baby if I ever thought you were weird, ever, in the time I've known you, I meant it as the highest compliment." She leaned back against the car door.

Casey put her hand against the blondes open fly and exposed the strap she was still wearing from their earlier encounter. The ginger sat up for a minute and pulled her hair back and tied it there with a ponytail holder she had around her wrist. She leaned back down and brought the strap into her mouth and began to suck.

 The golden haired adonis' eyes grew wide. "Baby that's not weird, that's hot." She whimpered as she brought her hand to the back of her lover's head pushed down lightly while she ran her other hand through her own hair. The ADA never breaking eye contact as she went to town on the toy, running her tongue up to the tip, and then taking the whole thing into her mouth.

After a minute or two she sat back up, licking her lips, and grabbed Alex by the hips pulling her flat on the backseat. "So,” the redhead blushed, “you liked that?"

"Very much so," the blonde said panting.

"Mmm, good to know." Her devilish grin plastered across her face. With a little maneuvering and a few giggles, she was able to shimmy her way out of her suit pants and on top of her girlfriend. She steadied her balance and brought herself down on top of the strap letting out a small moan, her body shuddered as she leaned down to kiss Alex. The angle making the toy hit her just right as the blonde slowly pushed her hips up, both women groaning softly.

"Fuck that feels good." Casey mewled beginning to roll her hips against Alex.

"I bet it does," the blonde cooed thrusting her hips up slow and deliberate. Copying her lover's expression as her lips parted and she let out a soft gasp of pleasure.

The redhead pushed back against the toy holding one hand to Alex's chest and the other to the window behind her head. "Alex," she whimpered, her body craving more, "I can't take much more teasing."

“Is that so? You sure you don’t want it nice and slow,” She thrust her hips slowly, holding Casey by her waist and guiding her up and down against her body, fucking her at a torturously slow pace, continuing to mimic her facial expressions has her mouth fell open and tiny gasps and moans emanated from her throat.

“Alex,” the redhead whispered, “Fuck, Alex.”

“Well obviously if you can remember my name, I haven’t tortured you nearly enough.” The blonde smirked. Casey brought her hand to her own clit, but Alex stopped her, “Ah, no cheating baby.”

The redhead whined. She started pushing herself down harder against her girlfriend, “Alex I want you to ruin me.” She moaned as she ground her hips down.

The blue eyed beauty’s pupils dilated as she took tight hold of Casey’s hips and began thrusting. She picked up her pace a little at a time until she was slamming into Casey, who was rolling her hips, leaning over Alex whimpering in her ear.

“Mmm baby, like that,” she nibbled on the blonde’s ear, causing her to sigh, “Oh Alex, Alex. Mmm, I love the way you fill me up.” She whispered with a smirk, knowing if her hot breath kept hitting her face as she did, that Alex would cum for her before she even finished.

The Bureau Chief slammed into Casey holding her hips down tight to hers and rolling them towards her. Casey cried out as Alex did this a few more times, smacking the redheads ass each time and then grabbing a fistful of supple skin and holding on.

The redhead was getting louder, “Ahh, Alex, fuck me! Just like that, don’t stop. Don’t stop baby.”

Alex spurred on by Casey’s cries also started moaning loudly. “That’s it baby, scream for me.” The blonde loved when Casey got loud and all the little noises she could get her to make as she fucked all the right spots. Alex felt her insides flutter as Casey hit a note that she was fairly sure only dogs could hear as her juices came spilling out around the toy and onto Alex again. As they both climaxed the redhead collapsed against her girlfriend leaning up just enough to stare into her crystal blue eyes. The blonde went to sit up.

“Not yet,” the ADA whimpered, “stay inside a bit longer?” Alex obliged and began stroking her girlfriends back.

“You okay darling?” she asked, checking in.

Casey nodded, “More than okay. Just trying to come back down.” Her body shook as she had another small aftershock.

“I’ve got you baby, I’ve got you.” Alex whispered bring her into a yielding, tender kiss.

They hadn’t been kissing exceedingly long when there was a knock on the window. The women looked at each other, frozen in fear, “Cops?” Casey mouthed.

“No, this lot is run by CCTV” Alex whispered, “who would’ve called it in?”

There was another knock, this time slower, more annoyed.

Casey went to press the window down much to Alex’s protest, only to find Liz looking back at her.

The Judges face was more stern than either of them had ever seen on her worst day. Alex jerked her head around, still inside Casey, both of them half naked, Casey’s shirt completely undone.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Liz said through gritted teeth. “What the fuck is wrong with the two of you?” She put her hand up in protest, “Don’t answer that. And Casey don’t get up lest I see more of you than I want to.”

Alex tried to protest and say something, but Donnelly stopped her before she could even get a single syllable out. “Alexandra, I don’t want to hear it. What is this? Some sort of midlife crisis? Can you not fuck at home? What are you afraid the cat is watching?”

“Judge Donnelly, we’re” Casey tried to apologize.

“Not another word Novak, you’re lucky this lot is not owned by the city. For God’s sake you both work SVU, you know how bad an indecent exposure charge can get! Have you both stopped taking your medication?”

“Liz why does it sound like you’re scolding teenagers?”

“Lena, I” but before Liz could say anymore Judge Petrovsky had already approached the car window, Alex and Casey staring at her from a very compromising position.

“It would seem it’s because apparently you are. Ah, Ms. Novak it appears that your reoccurring nightmare has finally come true. Charming. Ms. Cabot, make sure you put some concealer on all of that before you get to my courtroom in the morning. I’m late for poker. Goodnight Elizabeth.” She put a hand on Donnelly’s arm and walked off towards the street.

Liz looked at the two ADAs in disbelief, “I am washing my hands of the both of you. Please fuck each other’s brains out, before you get to work tomorrow? For everyone in the building’s sake?” With the click of her heel, she walked off towards her car hidden away in the far corner of the parking lot.

Casey side, “And she wonders why those kids said she had a broom up her butt.” She rolled up the car window, and gently removed Alex from inside her, trying to maneuver enough to get her pants back on.

Alex furrowed her brow, “Wait, what?”

“Elliot tells it better.”

“Elliot?” the blonde didn’t think she could be more confused, but here she was, for the second time today, covered in Casey, just having been yelled at by Judge Donnelly, how did they get to Elliot?

They both climbed into the front seat and Alex put her glasses back on and the key in the ignition.

“Did that,” Alex started, “Did that really just happen?” she chuckled even though her hands were shaking.

“I guess we need to be more discreet at work,” Casey grimaced.

“I don’t take it back, I would take a thousand censures to here you say my name like that.” Alex said, lust dripping from her words, “I just need to stop leaving the office door unlocked or answering window knocks unless they identify themselves as the police.”

Casey raised a finger.

“Police who are not Elliot.”

Casey raised her finger again.

“Or Olivia.”

“There it is.” The redhead nodded.

[dronebiscuitbat]

This chapter has smut in it. Although drones don't have junk, they can "make love." In their own special way.

I don't view this as explicit, since how drones make that connection is much different then how people do. That being said, if you aren't into that. Here's the Tl;DR:

N comes home worried, N and Uzi console each other, before N gets the wise idea that perhaps they won't ever have the chance to do this again with everything going on.

Loving, Passionate Robotic Lovemaking Ensues.

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 47)

N was home in record time, and when he opened the door he was immediately pulled down into a tight embrace, Uzi's tail was free, curling around him as if he was the last bastion of safety on the planet, her fingers gripped the back of his coat.

Nothing was said, not yet. He closed the door behind him with his tail and used the door itself as something to lean against as he lifted her up into his arms, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

“I'm so glad you're okay.” N broke the silence first, mumbling the words into her shoulder, he focused on the sound of her core-beat, it fluttered with anxiety but still thrummed like a war-drum, she was safe…

“I was more worried about you… I thought she was right on top of you or something.” She admitted, pulling back to look at him only to press their visors together with a light clink.

“N-no, I'm okay honey.” He purred back, his eyes still closed. The girl in his arms made a squeak and quickly looked away, the sudden term of endearment catching her off guard, especially since he sounded so genuine.

His brain seemed to catch up a moment later, and he went a shade of gold, clearing his throat.

“I-I… sorry, I was just worried… a-and it sounded right.”

“It's… okay.”

There was a pause, a lull of silence between them as N slowly put her down, before he started speaking again.

“Did you warn V?”

“She immediately went hunting through the vents, she wants payback.” Uzi replied, gesturing up to reference the vents above them.

“She find anything?” He asked again, still feeling jittery from his worry.

“She's been sending updates. It's been all clear so far.” She reassured, holding his arm in an attempt to calm him down as they both continued to stand at the doorway.

“Good…”

His gaze flickered to the couch where Tera was laying on her stomach, asleep, peaceful. A small black blanket loosely over her as she had her thumb in her mouth, drooling on it. He smiled, though it was wrought with worry.

Uzi followed his gaze, only to turn his face towards her with her hand, even if she had to balance on the tips of her feet to do it.

“We’re okay.” She said softly, and his core ached to belive her.

“Uzi… Doll’s been here this whole time… she could have had the jump on us at anytime…” He voiced his worries and his stress, both pouring out of his mouth before he thought much about it.

“But she didn’t. I don’t know why she’s still here… she has my bug already, there’s no reason for her to stay here.”

“Maybe she already found whatever she needed?” He suggested, but that begged the question of what exactly she was looking for.

“I don’t know… maybe we should have followed her… V did suggest-“ N interrupted her, not allowing her to blame herself.

“None of us were in the condition to do anything after you hacked into us. You were asleep for two whole days after that, I wasn’t going to leave you without knowing you were awake.”

“And you wouldn’t let V go alone either?”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

Another pause, this one more urgent, building like a bubble about to pop. Although his worry was slowly being ebbed away just by being beside her, a tension still grew between them.

“She really could’ve snuck up on us at anytime… why didn’t she?” Uzi repeated slowly, seemingly to let N's stress be absorbed into her, he didn't want that, so he immediately went to try and comfort her.

“Maybe there’s… something preventing her? Or she changed her mind about killing us?”

“Maybe…” Uzi’s voice trailed off into nothing, clearly troubled by the situation. Though there was very little they could actually do unless the Russian girl decided to suddenly appear before them. N cupped her cheek, before swooping down and placing a chaste kiss on her lips.

She blushed, and it grew when N took her hand into his and led them further into their apartment, and headed towards the bedroom.

N was scared, nervous and worried. His discovery had upset the air of domesticity they were starting to find. And it had made his thoughts drift to the things he really wanted, and the things he never got to experience. How much time did he truly have? Did Uzi really have? With the eldritch monsters, biological instincts, and now the threat of Doll looming over their heads. He didn’t know how much time they had left, but he did know he wanted to make the most of every second.

“N…?” Her voice was soft and curious, more so when N turned to her and placed his hands on her hips. A blush found it’s way to his face and stayed there, he caressed her hip with his thumb and he found himself unable to look at her.

“Uzi… I uh.” His core was suddenly beating out of his chest, was this a good idea? Yeah it had sounded good about a minute ago in his head, but now acting on it was nerve-wracking, would she even want something like this? His timing wasn’t exactly great…

“I want to… try…” His voice and any remaining confidence faded, self doubt creeping up in the gaps between his thoughts. This was a bad idea. No, the worst idea, they’d only been together for six months, he wasn’t sure if she was ready, if he was ready, what if it hurt? What if J had completely ruined him and he hurt her? Hell, he didn’t know what he was doing! Oh no, he messed up!

“Try…?” Uzi leaned up into him, a small smile on her face. Was he suggesting what she thought he was? She always thought that when the time came it would be her initiating, with his past trauma and need to be polite, always. She figured she’d have to slowly work up to it. But maybe this situation had spooked him, freaked him out enough to where he thought he wouldn’t get another chance.

“I-I Nevermind. It was stupid… we should be on high alert not… uh uhm mmm..”

His words trailed off when Uzi’s hand trailed a path up his side, something so featherlight even through his coat that it sent a shiver up his spine and his processors to short circuit. His tail made wide arches behind him, showing his near instant enjoyment.

“It’s not stupid. And V’s already on a warpath… we can. Only if you’re okay with it.” Uzi reassured, honestly, her mind was somewhere similar, if shit was about to hit the fan, she wanted to be sure she’d have no regrets when it did, and nothing should be left unsaid… or undone.

“I…don't really know what I'm doing… sorry I led you in here all confident and now I-I'm caving.”

“If it makes you feel better, I'm actually impressed you managed to ask me at all, thought I'd have to our first time.”

“O-oh… you've done this before?”

Uzi suddenly blushed, taken over by a similar embarrassment as the one currently staining her boyfriends face.

“I didn’t say that…”

The air was thick with tension, neither really sure where to go from here, N was almost too nervous to even breathe, let alone move. And Uzi was trying to decide if N was ever going to make a move.

After another moment, she realized he wasn't.

“You want me to lead?” She asked gently, cocking her head and leaning up into him to try and move closer to his visor, he gulped, more sweat and a far heavier blush displayed on his visor.

“Mmhm.” He nodded, being the only thing he could force his body to do, she laughed lightly, and even though she had a smirk she still looked incredibly embarrassed.

“Lay down then.”

Given a command, he found it easier to make his body move to obey it, he crawled onto the bed nervously hat and all, before laying face up, looking at the ceiling with the world's most nervous smile.

Ohrobogodohrobogodohrobogod

When Uzi climbed on top of him, shed already stripped, and she straddled his waist, he gulped nervously, memories of J looming over him, a taser, or claws, or both swam in the back of his head, though he tried not to let that show.

“Relax, okay?” Her hand came to brush some hair out of his face before removing his hat, placing it on the nightstand, one of her hands came to grip his collar.

“O-okay”

She lent down to kiss him, holding the side of his face as she started chaste, and gently caressed the side of his face until he really began to relax.

His hands found her hips again, pulling her deeper into him, and it was only then that she deepened the kiss, nipping at his lip to ask for access. Which he gave almost immediately, giving her free reign to explore his mouth.

While his hand racked up the smooth silicone of her back, her hand was busy trying to unbutton his coat blind, which seemed to be a little difficult with only one hand, since it was uncharacteristically clumsy, although he figured she was just as nervous.

Still soon enough his coat was completely undone and she was pulling it open, leaving the only thing keeping it on being his arms.

She pulled back, leaving them both panting and breathless, both their visors still stained with blush, Uzi looked him up and down, admiring his figure and causing him to fluster.

“I-I'm not t-that interesting.”

“You're gorgeous, actually.” She replied, sincerity dripping off her lips, he squirmed as those words him, feeling the embarrassment crawl up his spine.

“Shouldn't I be saying that to y-you?” He gave a goofy grin, that made his girlfriend laugh a press another kiss onto his visor screen, a spark of electricity passed between the area of contact.

Then she ducked into the crook of his neck to place more kisses there, and unlike his playful ones that morning, these were playful in a much different way, they were long, trailing kisses that made each contact feel like it burned the metal there, the hand on her her hip gripped a little tighter, making a small, almost inaudible whine escape from the girl on top of him.

That's when his hands started to wander, both running up her back until they began to slip down her front, he still had no idea what he was doing, but instinct seemed to guide his hands to ghost up the rubber residing in her middle, and she shivered in response.

Her kisses turned to nibbles before she was beginning to scrape her fangs lightly across his neck, gasps bubbled out of his throat as the input registered in his systems, he squirmed again, the feeling new to him before he felt one of her hands firmly push him down so that he'd stay still.

“U-uzi…” The word came out in a shudder as her other hand snaked up his front, from his hip all the way up to his chest, right underneath his core, he continued to explore the rest of her body, running over bumps and nicks and committing them to memory until he found himself touching up her back again.

His fingers roamed over the gnarled scars on her back, causing her to suddenly jerk her body forward in surprise as a muffled pleasured groan left her mouth, the reaction seemed to surprise both of them, as she quickly sat up, locking eyes with him with a renewed blush.

“Did- did that hurt?” He asked, even though he knew the answer he wanted to be sure, she shook her head, seemingly rendered speechless by her sudden outburst.

Then he felt his entire chest begin to buzz with energy, he looked down to find Uzi's finger gently rubbing a circle into the glass casing of his core. It was light, almost too light for him to feel anything. But what he did feel was like a low rush of energy, and it was quickly spreading to his head to make it fuzzy too.

“Is this okay?” She asked, her confidence seeming evaporated after having a outburst like that. He nodded, finding it hard to locate a thought that wasn't just praise.

“Y-yeah. It's… Oh-Okay.”

In response, she pressed a little harder, he felt his body seize in response, he bit his lip to stifle the noise that threatened to escape this throat.

Was this… was this what it was supposed to feel like? It wasn't painful, but it was almost overwhelming, he was struggling to breathe correctly and his processors began to misfire.

“Y-you can touch me t-too.” She guided one of his hands, which had fallen off her back to grip the sheets under him, to her chest, right underneath her core, he was trembling at this point, but always eager to please he tentatively pressed a finger into it.

“Ah!~ Aha! Woah- n-ot that hard~” He immediately let up on the pressure, scared he'd hurt her, before looking up at her face and finding she was somewhere between completely blissed out and excited beyond measure.

“S-sorry.” He did his best to rub circles into her core with the same amount of pressure she was doing to him. Until she picked up the pace and caused him to throw his head back into the pillow with a moan.

“Nhg… Uzi…” Electricity felt as if it was sparking around every inch of his body, clogging his mechanics and making him want for more, both his eyes were enlarged golden hearts, his blush encompassing most of his face. Thinking? What was that?

He increased his pressure and pace as well, making the girl above him buckle and bite her lip roughly, only one of her eyes were hearts, but the way she was panting and shuddering left no doubt in his mind that she was feeling much of the same way.

A single long press of her hand on his core, with far more pressure then before made him nearly buck her off, a loud groan being forced out as a small compartment opened up right above his core, spitting out a small cable that Uzi immediately grabbed and pulled on, making him almost choke on how sensitive it was.

“Wh-what?” His voice was glitched from the pleasure, and he didn't even finish his sentence before Uzis mouth crashed upon his, and like a good boy, he shut up and kissed her, adding a second finger to her core as she whimpered and whined into his mouth.

Soon after, Uzi's own compartment opened up, instead of a cable though, it was a simple USB port, N felt her shudder before pulling off his mouth and moaning lightly under her breath, panting as she still had his cord in her hand.

“F-fuck.” She cursed, although it was clearly meant more positively then just cursing at him for doing something wrong, his vents took in as much sir as he could, his temperature being far higher then normal. He'd probably need oil after this…

“Why did-” He was interrupted by a shudder and a pant as some delayed input was processed through. “You s-stop?”

She took a second to respond, still recovering before she looked at him, putting the cord in his hand instead.

“You're…” An aftershock went through her and she closed her eyes, riding it out before she tried speaking again. “You're supposed to plug this into me.”

He looked at the thin cable in his hands, then back up at her, before he immediately started to lean up to insert it into her port, before she hurriedly stopped him.

“We… uh. D-don’t have to go that far. That's how… fuck. Probably how Tera was made.”

He blinked, brain finally catching up to what exactly she was saying. And as much as he consciously knew it was a bad idea, he really didn't want this to end yet.

“My firewalls are up… it's probably safe… but. I don't know how different your code is from mine…” She was slowly winding down, and now she was making shapes on his stomach, nervously.

“Do- Do you want to keep going?” He asked, still feeling fuzzy and jittery, his core felt as if it was throbbing, begging him for this to continue.

She paused, her blush growing quickly.

“K-kinda.”

Well, that sealed the deal for him, he sat up, using the headboard as support as he gingerly plugged himself in.

Instantly he gasped as he felt his very code meld with hers, crashing against each other as both systems had to adjust to an entirely new state of being, he was both looking at her and looking at himself through her, it was both terrifying and exciting in every way possible.

He reached up to touch her face, both the sensation of touching and being touched coursed through their connected systems.

Even their emotions seemed to mix, causing a confusing tornado of fear, excitement, and love to swirl in colors of purple and gold.

Then… with a shift, Uzi began to write in the gaps of his code.

I love you, I love you, I'm yours, you're mine, I love you.

Whatever pleasure he felt before was nothing compared to now, he immediately buckled under their combined weight and collapsed onto the bed, he could barely take in a breath let alone make a sound.

“Breathe baby…” Uzi panted out, making him both smile and blush and try to reach out into her code in return, it was easier then he expected, like swimming through a warm ocean. Though she didn't need to speak, that thought had been shared through their connection already.

He wrote his own sweet nothings into her code. He wasn't as graceful, sometimes he would accidentally overwrite something, which caused Uzi to whimper above him before it quickly fixed itself.

You're perfect, I love you, beautiful, my love, my darling.

Waves of pleasure coursed through them both, resonating with each line of code written, it almost became N's goal to fill up as much of her empty space with his own admiration, he loved her so much, she loved him so much…

Right now, there was very little to differentiate who's thought was who's, they were one being, not two.

At least until Uzi blue screened. A loud, shuddering moan broke through the relative silence and she collapsed on top of him, he was right after, the feeling of her climax having only a fraction of a second delay before it hit his system too.

and it all went black.

Next ->

[shizunitis]

Luo Binghe & Tianlang-Jun: Origins. And a Bit of Projection.

Disclaimer: This is basically just a collection of quotes from The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System, Volume 3, accompanied by (adjective) thoughts, and then even more relevant quotes listed at the end. If I could, I’d paste the entirety of Chapter 18.

“As expected, I can’t bring myself to hate humans.” — Vol. 3, Chapter 21: Always Together

I will always be conflicted on the topic of Tianlang-jun, and it annoys me. There is so much I could say about him, and so little I can successfully articulate. He is, to me, more confounding, complex and tragic than Shen Jiu.

He’s pitiful and awe-inspiring, wicked and affable, cunning and wide-eyed in his curiousity. He is a compelling, heartbreaking character. He alternates between emotionless wisdom and mournful apathy. I admire how his knees don’t buckle under the weight of his grief, but how he crumbles at the barest hint of hope. How rage claws at him and, still, he can’t figure out how to make it stick.

I empathise with him. I understand him.

But then, in the distance, Luo Binghe's indifferent voice disturbs the silence, causing me to drop my drink onto the floor and this post onto your screen:

“He’s not my father.”

It’s an interesting exercise, exploring their relationship in reconciliation fics. To see them interact (semi-)honestly, watch them take turns filling up the chasm between them. It’s wonderful. Every fic I’ve read centred around them was a delightful read that I still think about.

However. I cannot see Tianlang-Jun, as I understand him, as Luo Binghe’s father. And not just because of the 3rd Novel’s events.

But because Binghe had hoped for something; he did have that wide-eyed wonder. He did hold one last window open, for the sake of an improbability he couldn’t quite, just yet, dismiss.

It’s what (most) orphaned and/or adopted childred do.

Though Luo Binghe had never said a word about it before, Shen Qingqiu knew that he harbored some fantasies about his birth parents. […] In fact, he’d always secretly fantasized about whether his parents might still be alive, and how well they’d treat him, and how they’d never let him suffer the mildest slight. — Vol. 3, Chapter 17: Tianlang

It is the most human thing; to want to be helped, accepted, invited by those given to you. A family is given to you. Whether you believe it an act of the divine, of nature, of coincidence, it isn’t something you fight for. It’s the first and, arguably, only thing you don’t have to fight for in life.

Depending on a multitude of factors, that can be a blessing or a curse; but where there is room for interpretation, questions left unanswered, most childred—Binghe included—will turn to their imagination, and try to make sense of it. Usually, to comfort themselves, to reassure themselves that surely, if their family could, they would have.

And, yeah. Most likely, if the Palace Master had gotten punted into the Sun like he fucking deserved, they would have. But does it matter?

In the face of a bleak reality, what comfort is a could-have-been?

He liked to call Luo Binghe “that son of mine,” but he didn’t seem to possess any concept of fatherly affection. […] Luo Binghe was in fact…someone who was unloved by even his own parents. — Vol. 3, Chapter 15: Holy Mausoleum

What use are good intentions to an abandoned child? What consolation is it, to say, They gave birth to you, when that child has seen no evidence of their care? Does it dry their tears, that their mother can’t be here, but she surely would have wished to be? That their father would protect them, if only he knew of them?

(And don’t make me tell you about the visceral horror I felt reading the Origins chapter. I’ve yet to make my peace with it. MXTX, Airplane, whoever: you’ve ruined me.)

The washerwoman was and continues to be, to Binghe, his only mother. And I would argue, that’s healthy. Even independent of his other traumas (Abyss, Shizun’s betrayal, Xin Mo’s influence, living on the streets, etc, holy shit Binghe) Luo Binghe will not accept anyone else as his mother.

“Who is this Su Xiyan?” Luo Binghe asked coldly. “My mother was a mere washerwoman.” — Vol. 3, Chapter 18: Origins.

It may seem callous. It probably even is! But it is a healthy line he’d drawn by his own initiative. It’s what helps him, what he feels he needs to do in order to do right by his mother, and his own heart.

And! Tianlang-Jun doesn’t seem to give much of a shit, either!

Won’t, probably, even in the future, once the dust will have settled. He is exhausted, weary with carrying the corpse of his love, the loss of his nephew. Whatever goodwill he shows, it’s a perfunctory sort, because he can’t afford more.

So. Uhh.

Tianlang-Jun is not a character I can love, nor one I can hate. Usually, I can’t help but be inclined to love complex characters. Like them, too—though that’s more of an action-based thing rather than just said character’s personality.

But with Tianlang-Jun, I’m stuck whichever way I turn. If I want to love/like him, I’m drawn back by Binghe’s pain and disappointment. If I try to hate/dislike him, I’m drawn back by his own history and grief.

In conclusion:

I don't know! I'm not really trying to, like, prove anything. I still love the aforementioned TLJ & LBH fics, I still love their dynamic. I started walking and ended up exactly in the same space. This, perhaps, could be considered a Heavenly Demon Family Mobius Strip!

I'm not really trying to say anything. It just… makes me feel conflicted, and angry, and whenever I allow myself to think about it a bit more, sad.

But.

However!

Alas.

Nonetheless, even.

As a reader and—on my better days—a writer, all I can say is:

As promised/threatened: some selected passages, for your reading pleasure:

So, it looked like neither the father nor the cousin had any intention of acknowledging Luo Binghe. — Chapter 15: Holy Mausoleum

He liked to call Luo Binghe “that son of mine,” but he didn’t seem to possess any concept of fatherly affection. — Chapter 15: Holy Mausoleum

Tianlang-Jun lifted his hand, took a look at Luo Binghe’s snow-pale face, and commented indifferently, “He looks like his mother.” “His eyes look like yours,” came a chill voice from the side. — Chapter 15: Holy Mausoleum

The faint hopes and dreams Luo Binghe had held in his heart for many years had been mercilessly pulverized into so much dust. […] [Tianlang-Jun] refused to speak a single word of their relationship and had been utterly ruthless back in the Holy Mausoleum. […] To his parents, Luo Binghe was an unwanted child. — Chapter 18: Origins

“If he was my father, why didn’t he bring it up earlier? Why not tell me?” The most Tianlang-Jun had said was that single line he offered while beating up Luo Binghe, devoid of either praise or criticism: “He looks like his mother.” He looks like his mother. What of it? But that was all. There was nothing more. — Chapter 18: Origins

Luo Binghe was indifferent. “He’s not my father.” […] Luo Binghe shook his head. It was unclear what he was stubbornly clinging to, but he repeated, “He’s not my father.” — Chapter 18: Origins

Luo Binghe raised his smiling face, his eyes shining brightly. “Mother was the kindest person in all the world to me.” — Chapter 19: Shen Jiu

[persephone-writes]

A Diviner's Guide to James Potter

Chapter Seventeen: An Invitation

James Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Chapter Sixteen ☆ Series Masterlist

Description: You and the others search for answers regarding the return of your nefarious classmates. 

Word Count: 5.8k

No one spoke for a long beat, the air charged with your collective bewilderment. You heard nothing behind McGonagall’s door, just the drum of your own heart. Her final words stung, more actually than it would’ve with any other professor given that she was the head of your house. Zephyr was back, as was Mulciber, Wilkes, and Snape, all having planned on poisoning you just two weeks prior. 

“Merlin’s saggy balls,” Sirius said, breaking the silence, “some good that did us.”

“She can’t just— she can’t, can she?” Marlene stuttered, slow to catch up on the complete waste of time this all was. 

James’s jaw was set, turning on his heels to walk back down the corridor. You followed behind, all with the same sulking expressions. 

Lily placed a hand on your arm, offering you the best consolation she could, “If they let them come back, McGonagall must be right. They can’t be a threat anymore.”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure how much you believed her. You knew James didn’t by his short breath, lingering in the hall as he shook his head like a disappointed father. There were no students around, leaving you to wallow in your failure in peace. Like yourself, it was highly probable that the last thing anyone wanted to do was return to the common room, though where you would go was a mystery. 

“Someone ought to tell Remus,” Lily began, linking your arms together. “We’ll go to the Library or something.”

James met your eyes, softer now, though still ill at ease. “I’m so sorry,” he said, opening his mouth a few more times as if to speak further, though he did not.

“It’s okay,” you said, though you knew everyone could tell it was a lie.

You still couldn’t believe Zephyr had been in Gryffindor Tower, and that the others were walking around the castle right at this very moment. It made your skin crawl, your mind running over what you had heard two weeks ago, surrounded by the darkness of the castle in the early morning hours.

“No, It has to be her.”

Lily’s voice broke you from your trance, calm despite the circumstances, “Come on, lets go.” 

She began to walk you towards the Library, Marlene hurrying alongside you, buzzing with continued anxiety.

In a moment, James rushed to catch up, calling over his shoulder to Sirius and Peter, “Go tell him for me!” 

He met your eyes, unsteady behind his glasses. It was understood, at least for the present moment, what he meant by that single look. It would be even harder to shake him now: James, your new shadow. You decided that would allow it, just this once. 

“What a happy Easter,” Marlene muttered, tucked away at a table between the bookshelves. 

There was no one else around, your spot far from the main study areas. Your heart was beating so quickly that all you could manage to do was sit and stare at the wall, forcing yourself not to spiral even further than you already had. James was beside you like a watchdog, his wand in his hand as if someone would come from around the corner any moment, ready to attack you in your state of vulnerability. 

Marlene's head fell into her hand, whispering to no one in particular, “What are they thinking?” 

“There has to be a reasonable explanation,” Lily said, gnawing at her lip. “Dumbledore wouldn’t allow anyone dangerous in Hogwarts un—”

“Seems like he will,” James interrupted, his disgust with the Headmaster plainly evident. 

The silence that preceded was deafening, punctuated by James’s hand tightening around his wand. You didn’t know what to say, caught up in your own internal ponderings. You agreed, at least in part, with each of them. Dumbledore might very well let someone dangerous into Hogwarts, though as Lily pointed out, he must’ve had his reasons. Still, this did little to make you feel safe, even more so considering the fact that no one thought to inform you of their return. Marlene was right, what were they thinking?

You looked at James’s profile, his head down turned towards the table. It was dark in this part of the Library, though not dark enough to conceal the frown deepening on his lips. 

As if feeling your eyes, he turned to you, a resolve creased in his brows. “We’re practicing every day this week,” he said, keeping his voice low, though it did not betray his sense of will, already refuting any of your protests. 

You didn’t answer, your lip pulling on one side, though he took it as you meant it: an agreement. 

Moving through the shelves, Sirius and Peter came around the corner, Remus in tow. His skin was pale, almost gray, as sickly as you expected. There was an exhaustion to him, one that seemed to permeate into his bones, inescapable even with a hundred years of sleep. Instantly, Marlene stood from her chair, offering it to him. To your surprise, Remus took it, placing his hands on the tabletop to help him. 

“How’re you feeling?” Lily asked. 

His eyes dropped, shrugging weakly. “I’ve had worse.”

“You didn’t have to come down here,” you said, the guilt of it all beginning to wear away at you. It was bad enough they all were here, much less Remus, who should’ve been in bed getting his strength back.  

“We tried to stop him,” said Sirius, his face like it always was when he looked at Remus in this state. His eyes held an insatiable longing to help, but without much he could do. 

“So, the Slytherin’s are back too?” Remus whispered, ignoring the fuss. 

“Seems as though,” Lily said.

“Guess they didn’t want them to miss the feast,” Peter mumbled, leaning against the shelves.

“We can’t just go on as normal, right?” Marlene began, her hands splayed out on the table in a fit of partially-controlled panic. “They’re in half of her classes for Godric’s sake.”

You shrunk away a bit, your hands wringing in your lap. You hadn’t thought about that yet, too caught up with the sight of Zephyr in the common room. With another week of no classes, you had yet to consider the fact that at least one of them was in every single one, save for Divination. 

Lily hummed in thought, her bottom lip now red. “We can try to bring it up at the next Prefect’s meeting. Maybe we could ask Annabelle and Quincy what’s going on. They might actually know.”

Annabelle and Quincy were the seventh year Prefects for Slytherin. Each were fairly tame when it came to blood purity propaganda, hence their positions, though trustworthy was a whole other conversation. 

“Some of the others asked as much last week,” Remus began, his throat still a bit hoarse, “but they didn’t seem to know more than anyone else, though they could’ve been lying.”

After a beat Sirius sighed, his hands coming to his hips. “All right,” he said, surveying your sullen group, “looks like we’re going out tonight.”

⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓

With the help of the map, you avoided Zephyr and the Slytherin’s all day, giving James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter plenty of time to make up a plan. It was fairly rudimentary, simple though effective. You all gathered in the RoR late that evening, forgoing the Easter party raging in the common room. Sirius explained that they would sneak into the Slytherin dormitories to snoop around Mulciber, Wilkes, and Snape’s room in the hopes of finding some clues as to what was going on. If this proved ineffective, Sirius had some Veritaserum saved for a special occasion, much to Lily’s horror. 

“That’s illegal,” she scolded. “You can’t just go around spiking people's drinks with a truth serum, you’ll be arrested.”

“Only if they find out,” Sirius said, offended at the notion he was unable to pull off such a stunt. 

“McGonagall is already onto us. It’s too much of a risk to go after them now,” Lily countered. 

“She’s right,” you said, staring between him and James. “Just snoop for tonight, then we’ll figure out the rest.”

Remus looked somewhat relieved when James, Sirius, and Peter nodded, though not without a great degree of disappointment. They were always eager to mess with a Slytherin, far too eager according to Lily. 

“Do you know what room they’re in?” Lily asked, clearly still nervous about the whole affair. 

Sirius cocked his head, waving her off. “Of course we do, we have the map.”

“This is rookie stuff,” said James, smiling in the same way he did before a quidditch match, completely sure of his own success. “I could do it in my sleep.”

“You might have to. What time is it, anyway?” Marlene said through a yawn. 

“Quarter after two,” Lily answered, still far too jittery for someone who wouldn’t actually be going into the Slytherin common room. “Are we sure there isn’t another way—”

“Yes,” James and Sirius said in unison. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll reign them in,” said Remus, unfolding the map. He scanned it over, his eyes darting across it as he flipped a few pages. 

“Are they all there?” James asked, peeking over his shoulder. 

“Mulciber and Wilkes are in the common room, but Snape is in his room.”

“Of course he is,” James mumbled.

“C’mon,” Sirius began, moving towards the door, “let’s hit it.”

Just as James was about to leave, you ran over, stopping him halfway through the door. You couldn’t speak for a moment, caught up in the sight of his eyes, a warm brown in the low light. 

“You really won’t let me come?” you whispered. 

When they explained the plan to you, James had made it perfectly clear he wanted you as far from the Slytherin common room as possible. You had tried to argue, but to no avail. You only hoped your begging would work in the final hour. 

His brows relaxed, looking at you with far too much pity. In that moment, you wanted him to stay forever, here in the RoR, lounging amongst the old, tattered armchairs, dancing through the piles. It was a sweet dream, though they rarely, if ever, came true. 

“We’ll be back soon,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear. “Stay here and wait for me.”

You nodded, your chest aching as he turned to leave. I’m always waiting for you. 

An hour later, the door to the RoR burst open, slamming closed as the four boys threw themselves inside. Peter leaned against it, wheezing as he caught it breath. Remus wasn’t fairing much better, his hands to his knees with his head hung. You, Lily, and Marlene popped up from your chairs, rushing towards them. 

“What happened?” Marlene asked, her voice high pitched and hurried. 

“Filch,” Sirius answered. 

“The bloody cat tried to kill me,” Peter said, looking as if he had seen a troll.

You went over to James, who had tossed the cloak onto the floor, frantically feeling around the pockets of his jeans. “What’s wrong?” 

He didn’t answer, glancing between Remus and Sirius in a frenzy. “Does one of you have the map?”

They all felt around in their pockets, coming up empty. 

“Who had it?” James continued, his eyes narrowed. 

Remus shook his head. “I didn’t.”

“Neither did I,” Peter said quickly, more frightened than you had ever seen him before. 

James’s cheeks began to grow red, his jaw tight as he stared at Sirius. 

“I didn’t have it,” Sirius scoffed, motioning to Remus and Peter. “Must’ve been one of you—”

“Okay, let’s calm down a minute,” Remus said, though his efforts were in vain. 

Sirius took a step towards James with a scowl. He looked like a kettle ready to whistle, the steam just about shooting from his ears. “Maybe you had it.” 

“Keep it down,” Lily hushed. “It doesn’t matter who dropped it. Let’s just retrace your steps—”

“I know it wasn’t me,” James said, his eyes piercing as they stared back into Sirius’s. 

“Well, I know it wasn’t me,” Sirius gritted. 

“Stop it,” you said, trying to force your voice to take on some form of authority, though it did little. James’s eyes were still fixed upon Sirius, who had crossed his arms in defiance.

The only sound was Sirius and James’s short, angry breaths, cutting through the RoR like knives. Peter swallowed, his gaze down towards the floor. 

Remus rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, his sigh breaking up some of the festering rage slowly permeating every corner of the room. “C’mon, lets just look for it.”

James turned away, a hand hanging off the neck of his shirt. 

“Did you find anything?” Lily asked softly. 

“No,” Sirius answered. “Mulciber and Wilkes didn’t say anything, and Snive— Snape was doing homework.”

James looked between Lily and Marlene, soon settling on you. He dropped his hand, his hardened face relaxing just a fraction. “We’ll walk you guys back, there’s no use staying up while we look for it.”

“We’ll help,” you said, knowing it was folly to think James would let you wander around the castle at night given what had occurred over the past twelve hours. 

“You shouldn’t be out now, not without the map,” he said, moving to the door.

Lily gave you a look, telling you it was better not to argue, and for once you agreed. 

“We can go alone. It’s only just down the corridor,” Lily said.

To your surprise James nodded, his shoulders still tensed as you parted ways, casting another glance in your direction before he disappeared into the shadows. An awful feeling brewed deep inside of you, churning in the pit of your stomach. Even as your mind raced, you didn’t miss the look Marlene gave you, her brows raised in an acknowledgment of what she surely thought was an expression of James’s supposed love. You rolled your eyes, turning away with a sigh and very warm cheeks. 

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When you woke up Monday morning, you knew you had to speak with Mary. She had already been made aware that you and James made up, though it didn’t take a genius to see you two spending time together again after your stint of separation. You were sure she must have heard of Zephyr’s return, meaning Mulciber was back as well. Once a target of his malice, Mary had every right to be updated on what was happening. 

You saw her tucked away by the bookshelves in the common room, surrounded by her sixth year friends. Leaving Lily and Marlene, you went over alone, hoping she was faring well despite the circumstances. 

“Hey, Mary,” you said with a measly smile. “Could we talk?”

“Sure,” she said, excusing herself before you led her towards the girl’s dormitories. You went up to your room, the only place safe enough to discuss the matter at hand. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard Zephyr’s back,” you began. “We went to McGonagall yesterday. They all are, apparently.”

Mary nodded, moving to sit on Dorcas’s bed. “I figured.”

You sat across from her on Marlene’s, your hands fiddling in your lap. “She wouldn’t tell us anything, only that they weren’t a problem and we should leave them alone. James asked to speak with Dumbledore, but I doubt that will happen. I don’t know why they let them come back, or where they were to begin with.”

“Do you think she’s right?” Mary asked, her eyes searching yours in a mild desperation, wanting for answers you didn’t have. 

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. You couldn’t lie to her, even if you wanted to. “James is trying to teach me how to duel. You can join us, if you’d like.”

“That's okay, they haven’t bothered me in a while. I think they might’ve forgotten I existed,” she laughed, though it was heavy, lacking any humor. “Thanks, though.”

“If we find out anything, I’ll tell you right away. Last night they went snooping in the Slytherin dormitory, but they didn’t find anything.”

Mary perked up a bit, her smile a bit more genuine. “Did they at least prank them?”

“No, we stopped them,” you said, mirroring her expression despite the hellacious nature of it all. “McGonagall warned us about doing something to them. It’s no use getting in trouble when it won’t do us much good in the end.”

“Still, it would’ve been nice.” 

You shook your head, standing up to walk Mary back down. “Dorcas is rubbing off on you.”

Lily and Marlene were waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs, the latters arms crossed as she leaned against the wall, scanning the common room. Mary went back to sit with her friends, still as uneasy as when you found her. 

“He’s not here,” Lily said, glancing over at Marlene, “but she’s on the prowl.”

Marlene sneered as she continued to survey the room like a cat ready to pounce. “Without Dorcas around, someone has to step up. Let’s just hope the ghoul stays where he is.”

“Have you seen the guys?” you asked Lily.

“No,” she said.

Marlene kicked off the wall, rolling her eyes. “This is ridiculous. Yesterday, James was in a fucking twist over you being alone—”

“They’re probably out looking for it,” you said, cutting her off from bringing attention to James’s newfound fear for your safety. Warily, you glanced at Lily, though her expression was unreadable, lost in thought. You hoped she hadn’t put much weight in Marlene’s comment, which you would be chastising her for later. 

Not unlike the previous evening, Sirius, Remus, and Peter all rushed into the common room like a stampede, creating a great deal of commotion for just three people. Sirius’s long hair was in his eyes, Peter pushing him to the side as he tripped over his own feet. Remus watched the two in their struggle, though he was in quite a state himself, stepping around the frenzy to free his legs. 

“Black!” Lily called. 

They all turned to look at the three of you, their eyes widening. Sirius sprinted over, pushing himself between you and Marlene. 

“He’s with Dumbledore!” he whispered, completely frantic. Peter and Remus came up behind him, joining your small huddle.

You tried to think of the reason McGonagall would suddenly change her mind. She wasn’t the type of person to go back on her answers, especially when it was “no.” 

Lily’s brows furrowed, likely with the same thought. “James?” 

“Who else?” Sirius said. 

“When did he go up there?” Lily asked, ignoring his sarcasm.

“A half hour ago,” Remus said, his voice hushed. “We were waiting for him to come back out by the stairs, but it's taking so long we went to the common room to see if you were here.”

“Wait, why didn’t one of you stay by the entrance in case he came out?” you said, your eyes darting between them.

They looked at each other as well, all considering what you had said with varying degrees of realization. 

“Ugh…” Sirius began, “we didn’t think of that.”

“You never found it?” Marlene asked, moving on to more important matters. 

“Filch has to have it, we just can’t figure out where,” Remus said. 

“He’s getting better at hiding stuff,” said Peter, his mouth pulled to one side. 

“Sir Nicolas found us coming back from searching his office this morning. He’s the one that told us Dumbledore wanted to speak with James,” Remus continued. 

“Where's the cloak?” you whispered, noting the fact that none of them were carrying the rather large piece of shimmering fabric. 

“My pockets are charmed,” Sirius began, “but we don’t have time for this, we have to go.”

“He’s not torturing him,” Marlene said, though it didn’t matter. You all dashed back to the portrait hole, not bothering to notice all your classmates watching your odd group as you left.

You took the seventh floor shortcut to the grand staircase, popping out at the first floor. You went up another story, making the long trek over to the west side of the castle. Students watched as you all bolted past, skidding around corners until you finally made it to the long, vacant corridor.

Remus stopped walking when he saw what was ahead, or rather what wasn’t ahead. 

“Where is it?” you said, running down the corridor towards where the golden gargoyle once stood. Now it was only a blank wall, devoid of any indication this had once been the entrance to the Headmaster’s office. 

“We were just here,” Peter said, walking up beside you. 

“Where the fuck did it go?” Sirius cried, throwing his hands against the wall. He pressed into it, feeling around the edges of the stone, though nothing occurred. 

“Does it change location?” Lily asked. 

Remus hummed, still staring at Sirius’s futile search. “It never has before, at least in my experience.”

Sirius gave it a hearty kick, spinning around with exacerbated huff. “Of course the bloody office has to move now.” 

“Maybe we have the wrong floor,” Peter said. 

“We don’t have the wrong floor,” Sirius droned, beginning to walk aimlessly in circles.

“It was just a suggestion,” Peter said, growing short with Sirius, who had thus far done little to conceal his annoyance. “You’re just kicking the wall!”

“You’re a real fucking git sometimes, Wormtail—”

“Shut it,” Lily said, her eyes narrowed at both of them. “Let’s regroup. Obviously there has to be another entrance, so we should just look for it. Marlene can cover the ground floor, Remus first, Peter third, Sirius fourth and fifth, and Y/N and I sixth and seventh.”

“Why am I with you?” you asked.

“You know why,” Lily sighed. “We can’t have you running around alone, especially now.”

“I can’t avoid them forever. We have classes in a week, and Zephyr is in our house. I’ll have to face them eventually.”

Lily pursed her lips, hesitant despite your newfound confidence. “I still think you ought to—” 

“Lily,” you said, reaching in your pocket to pull out your wand. You held it in your hand, remembering for the first time in a while that you were a Gryffindor. She’s practically useless without someone there to protect her. “I’ll be all right.”

Her eyes darted away as she thought, drifting warily down to your wand. After a moment, she looked back up at you with a single nod. “You take seventh, then.”

You met her eyes, giving her a small smile of thanks before you all began back down the corridor towards the west wing staircase.

“What do we do if we find it, or James?” Marlene asked. 

“We can meet back up on this floor if you don’t find it, or if you find James,” Remus began, “but if you find the entrance and James isn’t there, stay where you are.”

“Bossy today,” Sirius mumbled, though Remus paid him no attention. 

You left Lily on the sixth floor platform, running up another story and down the wing before taking a left towards the tower. The gargoyle was just as you remembered it, imposing where it stood at the end of the corridor. With a great deal of relief you ran up to it, though the wall behind it was closed with no sign of James. You paced before it, trying to remember the password McGonagall had said a few weeks ago, though you knew it’d be a longshot.

“Chocolate cake, chocolate eclair…candy corn?” You shook your head, side-eyeing the gargoyle as its gaze seemed to follow you. You turned away, your fists balling as you racked your brain. “Cherry! It was something cherry, right?” In your excitement you turned to the gargoyle again, though you were only met with its stony face, its mouth resting in a way that seemed to mock your attempts. You continued in your efforts, your feet clicking against the stone floor, “Cherry cobbler, cherry galette? No, cherry clafoutis!”

You jumped back as the gargoyle took a step out of the way, the wall moving open. You were grinning proudly, ready to stride up to the spiral staircase before it began to shift. Fearing Dumbledore himself would walk down to meet you, questioning why you had attempted to break into his office, you whipped around, ready to escape back into the west wing before James shouted your name behind you. 

“Godric!” you yelped, freezing as your hand came to your chest. After your momentary shock, you rushed back towards him, nearly running straight into his chest. “We’ve been looking for you, but the entrance moved—”

“Are we on the seventh floor?” James said, looking around. “And why are you out alone?”

“We are,” you began, “and I am perfectly capable of being out alone. We should go, though, the others are probably waiting for us by now.”

You went to leave, though he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back. “Wait, he gave me something,” he said, holding out in his other hand a chocolate egg, decorated in multicolored foil. 

“An Easter egg?”

James unwrapped it, balling up the foil and shoving it into his pocket before cracking it open. He broke off a few pieces, a small scrap of pink parchment falling onto the floor. You picked it up as he popped a piece of chocolate in his mouth, peering over your shoulder as you went to read it. 

You are cordially invited to afternoon tea at Frank and Alice Longbottom’s, 749 Mandrake Lane, Upper Topton, on Sunday, 2nd of July at precisely four o’clock. You are encouraged to bring your closest companions. We hope to see you there.

“Seven forty-nine Mandrake Lane, Upper Topton, the second of July, four o’clock” James said, saying it for a second time, and then a third.

You turned to look at him, watching as he mumbled the same phrase around his thumb to lick some chocolate off. “Why are you repeating it?”

“I’d put five galleons on it disappearing,” he said, watching the parchment. 

Just as he predicted, the words slowly faded, the parchment blank in a matter of seconds. 

“Seven forty-nine Mandrake Lane, Upper Topton, the second of July, four o’clock,” he muttered, his eyes darting to yours. “Remember it?”

“Seven forty-nine Mandrake Lane, Upper Topton, the second of July, four o’clock” you said, your brows furrowing.  

You remembered quite vividly McGonagall’s complete dismissal of his request to speak with the Headmaster, though it seemed as though she had nothing to do with it, given the fact that Nick had brought him here. Then, he comes back with a message in vanishing ink from your Headmaster, one which appeared to be a simple invite to a friendly catching-up-over-afternoon-tea. 

You handed him back the paper which was now largely useless, save for proof that any of it had happened. 

“Frank and Alice, didn’t they graduate a while ago?” you asked.

“Yeah, I went to their wedding. My parents are old friends with Frank’s.”

Your palms were beginning to sweat, wondering what your Headmaster would have to do with two former students. “Do you have any idea what this is about?” 

James leaned in closer, his breath falling against your cheek. “I think so, but I can’t tell you here.” 

“RoR?” 

He nodded, following you down the corridor towards the staircase. 

“They’re waiting on the second floor. We checked every one for the entrance,” you explained.

He chuckled, shaking his head as you descended the stairs. “I didn’t know it moved, but so does everything in this castle.”

When you all got to the RoR, James explained what had happened with Dumbledore, relaying the note in full. What Dumbledore had actually said to him out loud amounted to very little in the long run. He had warned James not to do something that would cost him his spot as Head Boy, going on a bit about his father when he was a student before wishing him a happy Easter, handing him the egg and sending him on his way. 

When he finished, James was just about the only one who didn’t look as if their brains had been scrambled to bits. 

“Do you have any cigarettes on you?” you asked Sirius, suddenly feeling twitchy and in want of something to do with your hands. 

He stared at you for a moment with pursed lips, grumbling as he rummaged around in his back pocket. Without a word he tossed you the pack, sighing as you took one out and lit it. 

Lily’s foot was tapping on the floor, her eyes far off. “What do Frank and Alice have to do with us? They graduated when we were second years,” she paused, her eyes bouncing from person to person. “Were any of you close with either of them?”

“Not really, but my parents know Frank’s,” James answered. “But they’re both Aurors, bloody good ones at that. You know the rumors about people working on the outside, going behind Minchum and Crouch. After this, I’d bet they’re one of them.” James held up the slip of parchment, folded neatly back up into a square.

“What about Dumbledore? Do you think he’s,” you faltered, the implications too serious to say out loud.

“Probably,” James said, his gaze unwavering. 

When you thought about it some more, it didn’t seem too far off that he would be involved in such an endeavor. You weren’t sure what he thought of Minchum, though the current Minister for Magic wasn’t exactly popular at the moment. Someone like Dumbledore might very well think he wasn’t doing enough to snuff out the Death Eaters, as was the general consensus. 

James didn’t speak for a moment, staring into your eyes. “What’re you thinking?”

“I have no clue,” you said, reeling with the influx of information as you took another long drag.

“Well, I’m coming,” said Sirius, seeming to grow tired of all the talk. “If it’s just a tea party, we can leave early.”

“How can we be sure that's what this is all about?” Lily said, staring at Sirius and James as if they were mad. “What if it’s some sort of trap? You said they were Aurors, for Godric’s sake.”

“It’s Dumbledore,” James said, throwing up a hand, “why would he send us into a trap?”

Remus ran his tongue over his teeth, letting out a long breath. “I’m in.”

“Me too,” Marlene said, standing just a little taller than before.

You turned to James, trying to take in some of his tenacity. “I’ll be there.” 

He smiled, just enough to tell you he was proud. You hated the way you glowed, light under his gaze.

“I guess I will, too,” Lily sighed, crossing her arms as she shot a dissatisfied look around the room. “But if it’s a trap, I’m going to be really cross with all of you.”

“It’s not a trap—” Sirius went on.

You turned around, chuckling at their bickering as you flicked some ash into a vase. As you did, you were suddenly struck with something you had completely forgotten about during the chaos, spinning back around with wide eyes. 

“It’s your birthday!”

James shrugged, not at all bothered that at least you, Lily, and Marlene had neglected to say anything about it to him. “We have bigger problems than my birthday. We can do something when—”

“Absolutely not,” Lily said, turning to the others in shock. While wizards did not tend to place a significant amount of emphasis on the celebration, Lily still took it rather seriously. “Did you remember?”

“Of course we did,” Sirius scoffed. Remus nodded at the statement, running a hand through his hair. 

“I have a gift for you and everything,” you said, frazzled as you remembered it, already wrapped underneath your bed. 

James looked surprised, though that was to be expected. You had never gotten him a gift before, nor had you told anyone else you were doing so this year. It served the dual purpose of acting as a thank you for his help improving your dueling skills. Your face felt warm from the embarrassment of having made your unintended announcement, as you had hoped to keep the matter between you and James, at least for the time being.

“You did?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said sheepishly, wishing you could sink into the floor. “You’ve been helping me out a lot lately and…”

“We’ll give you your presents tonight,” Lily said, walking to the door. “Would you like a cake or something else?”

On everyone's birthday, Lily always went down to the kitchens to politely request a dessert of their choice. She had done it for you, Dorcas, and Marlene since first year, staring with the others when she and James began to date. There was no use in trying to stop her, or do it yourself, so it was best to comply. 

“I don’t want anything,” James said, though Lily was having none of it. 

“He’d like a chocolate cake,” Sirius answered for him.

“That’s your favorite,” Marlene drawled, raising her brows. 

Lily was still staring at James, waiting for his answer. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll ask for what you got last year.”

James sighed, his head tilting to the side as he thought. “Well, you can’t get me the treacle tart, it’s never as good as my mums.”

“No treacle tart is as good as your mums,” Sirius said, gazing longingly into the distance as if dreaming of Euphemia’s deserts.

“Just get me chocolate,” James said, laughing as Sirius made a show of delight. “Thanks, Lily.”

“My pleasure,” she said, slipping out the door. 

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“Happy birthday dear James, happy birthday to you!”

You all gathered around James in the kitchen, his chocolate cake sitting in front of him at the table. The candles illuminated his face, flickering in the reflection of his glasses. Isby had thrown another fit when you all came down for dinner, since James insisted he would not have his cake without you, though she was eventually swayed. 

“C’mon, mate, make your wish already,” Sirius said, antsy as he eyed the cake.  

Marlene scowled, hitting him on the arm. “You’re always such a piece of work.”

James laughed, his eyes bright as they danced from Sirius to Peter, who was snickering at the argument. They met yours briefly, warm as honey before he closed them, blowing out his candles. 

“Don’t ask me what I wished for, because I won’t tell you,” he said rather seriously.

“What a bore,” Marlene drawled.

Lily shook her head, cutting the cake and giving the first slice to James, despite the fact Sirius had been holding out his hand for the plate. 

“Calm down,” she said, cutting another, “you’ll get yours eventually.”

As a present to yourself, you let your eyes linger on James, teasing Sirius as he took a bite. It was almost two years since you became friends, a year and a half since you started to grow nervous around him, and a month since you admitted to yourself that you loved him. You hoped that cards were right, though it was already starting to feel like they were. You had followed your heart, and now you were collaborating, seeking out the help of others…you would just have to wait and see what came next.

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