#what if one day someone decides to write a fic and is doing research or something

[johnnytoronto]

[jenchan-writingmultis]

Twisted Wonderland Boys x Fem Reader in their respective Fairytales (Series)

(Idia's Part)

Previous part (Kalim)

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A/n: Out of every housewarden, I felt like sobbing writing Idia's cause of how fluffy he is, I love him so much. Content Warning: This Fic will be tagged as 16+ since it is a bit suggestive along with mentions of Gorey themes (Azul), it’s very vague. I haven’t finished Book 6 and Book 7 because I’m stuck in Tartarus, but they’re not done here yet. Potential Inaccuracy in Indian Tradition, Indian and Greek clothing, if ever you see inaccuracy about it, please let me know, I only did a bit of research about it. The reason for potential OOC was cause I mixed both the classic Villains with the personalities of our beloved boys. You have a child with Kalim here!

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First Batch would be: Riddle, Leona, Azul

Second Batch would be: Kalim, Idia, Malleus

List of Villains interconnecting with each character:

Kalim = The sultan Idia = Hades ─────❅───── Idia: The underworld has always been Idia’s little comfort zone, although at first, he didn’t want to rule it, due to how depressing it gets sometimes, but along with his brother Ortho who takes care of “outside” activities, aka meetings with those overbearing gods and goddesses who think they’re better than anyone, he didn’t mind the work as long as it’s with him. So far, his duties were all just about guiding souls into whatever the fuck they want or are allowed to go, honestly if they all became lost souls, he wouldn’t give a flying damn.

One day, however, an odd discrepancy appeared in the calculations of souls being accepted—an unregistered soul had entered the narrative. Concerned, he strolled toward the portal of Tartarus to investigate. When he peered inside, a sudden flash of blinding light erupted, disorienting him. Before he could react, a heavy force slammed into his body, causing him to stumble.

“What the!” he grunted, feeling a heavy body on top of him, he rubbed his head, opening his eyes, adjusting to the sudden light-to-darkness transition.

You stirred, finding your hands pinning him down. His eyes widened in shock as he pushed you off, scrambling backward so quickly that he hit his back on the wall with a loud slam.

“What In the world?!” he screeched, his hair glowing brightly meaning he was incredibly nervous, while you seemed to be lost, standing up, you pat away the dust off your outfit, taking notice of Idia who still was pressed on the wall.

“Idia?” you went closer to him, he looked like an angry kitten, glaring at you at first but the moment you got closer he stiffens up, pushing his hands to protect himself from you.

“Stay back! You anomaly!” he shouted that it echoed around the empty room, you were taken aback, “Idia, it’s me.” you said, eyebrows knitting in frustration.

“H-how do you know my name?” he asked, looking at you confusedly, were you sent by his other brother who he doesn’t even think of one, Zeus? You look kind of angelic so there’s a suspicion.

“Idia, you’re my boyfriend” Wow point blank you decided to kill him with those words, boyfriend his ass, what boyfriend, all he knows is that he prefers to be single than have a lover, also he wants to add that you are way out of his league, there’s no way you like him that way, and this is the first time you met him, was there a camera around here? The edited laughter? Where is it? He’s waiting for that to come.

Realizing that he was overthinking again, you snapped your fingers catching his attention; stating your name you tried to see if you got any reaction, but nothing. He really didn’t remember you.

You were going to be saddened by this, if it weren’t for the fact that the tips of his hairs had a slight pink on it meaning was still a chance for you to get your boyfriend back.

Okay, you two might be misunderstanding things, while Idia was observant, he can’t think straight when he’s in front of someone, his black and blue robe being a perfect cover for himself, he even had a hoodie knitted for him to cover his hair with.

You noticed that he was taller than before, raising your eyebrow, you grabbed his arm, which made him freeze up, looking at you like you just harassed him, his sweat drops. “What?”

“Since when did you get taller?” you asked, he slides your hand off of his arm, rubbing it a bit, “I don’t know?” he answered confusedly, before waving his hand dismissively, “No more questions, I’m bringing you back to Zeus” he grumbled, his stupid brother playing pranks on him again.

“What? Zeus?” you walked faster to catch up on him when he started speedwalking away, “Y’know, God of Olympus?” he said, weirded out why you didn’t know Zeus, everyone knows him.

“Wait, Zeus as in the God from long ago?” you asked further, which made Idia stop his tracks, turning to look at you, his figure looming, he looked like a grim reaper when he stands with you before, but now it’s more evident.

“What do you mean long ago?” he asked as bewildered as you are, why are you acting this way anyways? Anomaly that popped out of nowhere and almost giving him a concussion and right now you’re giving him a migraine, what’s next huh? brain aneurysm?   

“Are you not my Idia?” you frowned, looking at him closer, he exhibited a different style, he was taller, slightly shorter hair, bluish skin instead of pale.

“Your” Idia? What does that mean?

The more you open your mouth the more questions pop out, sighing he decided to cover your mouth with his hand. “Please… just shut up for a minute”

Okay, first theory! You’re not from around here, I mean you just got spat out like trash by the Tartarus and suddenly proclaiming that he’s your boyfriend, he feels bad for you, your standard is in hell if you’re dating him, you’re pretty too, a disrespect to your face really.

Second theory, which he’s leaning on more, you’re a spy sent by his brother Zeus; to make him fall for you and you break his heart and upload it to magicam or something.

If you think he’s self-deprecating too much, please, he’s just being realistic with the situation.

“First off, I am not yours” he clarified, lifting his hands as if he’s surrendering to you. “I never met you in my whole life, you’re cute but no”

Rejected by your own boyfriend, you wanted to pinch his cheeks for it, you were going to be hurt by this, but the thing is, the way he acts reminded you of the first stages of your relationship with him, he wasn’t the best with it.

“Okay,” you said, being short with him, for some reason that made him feel bad, scratching the back of his neck, he wanted to hold your cheek or hand to comfort you, an odd feeling.

“Sorry- I mean if you want to, I can act like your boyfriend or something” he murmured, his voice gradually decreasing to the point you barely heard the last words.

“It’s fine Idia, no need” not wanting to force him into that kind of thing, however, you noticed that his little fire hair started to fizzle out, panicking a bit you touched his hand, holding it, “wait I mean, okay, sure we can act”

Phew, that got his fire back up, lucky you. “Okay…” he said awkwardly coughing as he uses his tech to call for Ortho. “Ortho, can you come here?”

Ortho was impressively fast with going back to the underworld, looking the same except his clothes or rather his cyborg parts looked Greek like, it explains why you were wearing a tunic.

“Scan her” Idia said, using his eyes to signal ortho who to scan, in which Ortho grins brightly. “Okay!”

You stayed still as Ortho used his eyes to scan you, it was something that came natural for you, especially since your Ortho does that often.

“So?” Idia asked, leaning on the wall, Ortho shook his head, looking conflicted. “Nope, she doesn’t have any data around Ancient Greece, or anywhere”

“Huh” he didn’t seem surprised. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, patting Ortho’s head. “Yeah! I did another scan but there’s no indication of her presence anywhere.

So, you really were just transported by Tartarus to Ancient Greece, connecting the dots, that means Idia here is…

Noticing you staring at him in deep thought He smiles a bit, you looked funny thinking like that, pouty and all. “Since you’re really not from here, my name is Idia, God of the Underworld, and this is Ortho, my brother.” Ortho waves at you enthusiastically and he was genuinely surprised that his brother introduced him instead of himself.

“I know” you hummed, crossing your arms. “I told you already, we’re dating- “

Idia tried to cover your mouth before you spout that out but failed as Ortho’s eyes widens. “You’re dating my brother in the other world?! You mean there’s another version of us in your world?”

Oh dear, you’re in it now.

Ortho basically asked you plenty of questions, already happy that his brother pulled someone like you, you were gorgeous!

Idia was a bit happy you got along with his brother, he sometimes feels bad that he keeps Ortho in such a depressing place instead of being a normal kid outside and playing.

Also he can’t help but get flustered whenever you randomly get physically affectionate with him, he’s been trying to find a way to get you back in your world, but it’s proving to be difficult since Tartarus maybe his domain, but it’s a system that’s entirely independent from him, think of it as the pity system in his gacha games, even if you hit enough 80 pulls, it doesn’t guarantee the limited character you want.

But, as long as he can, Idia tries to make sure every time he hangs out with you is worthwhile, it’s the first time he made effort to spend time with someone, when he’s off work, he finds himself going to the guest room, asking if you wanted to come eat with him and Ortho, or sometimes, you end up in his room, playing a two-player game with him.

Ever since you came into his life, he started going out of his room more, back then he usually just… does his work and go to his room. That’s all Now he’s trying to go outside more, especially when Ortho told him that to get you back faster was by “thinking outside the box” which just meant that he should go touch some grass and let the gears in his brain think of a solution.

He didn’t really know when he fell for you, but he noticed it when you were outside with him, in the largest field that had nothing but nature around. The outfit that Ortho lend you fits your palette so perfectly, it almost made him want to take a picture.

You were admiring the view while glancing around, picking up flowers.

Confused with what you were doing he walked to you. “Hey what-“ getting cut off as you shove a bouquet of flowers on his chest, a ribbon clumsily wrapped around the stems of the flowers.

“For you” you said, smiling, making his heart skip a bit, he accepted the gift as Ortho called out for you, giving him a glance before you grab his collar, pulling him down to kiss his cheek before walking away.

That got his hair to burn bright pink, shaking from the adrenaline, he coughed awkwardly, hopefully, Ortho didn’t see what you did.

Well, he’s having a hard time finding a way to send you back home, so… it might take a while.

─────❅───── A/n: ACCCCCCK IDIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ILYSM ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽ Malleus' Part

[buckysthunderbolts]

Maternal Instincts

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After avoiding Bucky for far too long, you're forced to come to him and ask him to help you walk through memories you don't believe are real. Only this time, it involves two people that look suspiciously like you and Bucky.

Warnings: Eventual 18+ content, canon-typical violence, knives, injuries, mentions of suicide, language, blood, needles, trauma, angst galore

Word Count: 5k+

Author's Note: Here's part two! This story is just flowing out of me and I'm really enjoying writing it. I really enjoy writing fics where there's really strong emotional intimacy and I hope you're able to see that here! Please let me know what you think and remember to comment and reblog fics you read and enjoy!

Chapter 2: The Patriot

THEN

My first solo mission was my last solo mission. It was shortly after the war ended and I was completely and utterly alone. Steve sacrificed himself and Bucky fell off the train shortly after his regiment was rescued. The future Bucky dreamed of us having was dead, gone and buried. I would never have that with anyone else.

So instead of moving on and living my life the way I know Bucky would’ve wanted, I was on a mission to do everything I could to harm the people who took away the person I loved most in the world. Even if what I did killed me in the end, I didn’t care.

In exchange for his biological work, scientific research, and continued protection by SHIELD, Arnim Zola gave up numerous HYDRA shell locations. I was responsible for gathering intelligence on their whereabouts, including all research on biological weapons and projects, and individuals who’ve escaped justice.

I was undercover at an underground bunker in Russia as a biologist to get access to all the intel I needed for SHIELD to take the necessary steps to take out the underground locations and gain control of their data. I was under strict orders not to engage in direct conflict. The intel was too valuable to stay in the wrong hands. I could not engage in conflict. I had two weeks to gather what I needed and then quietly leave as if I had never been there in the first place. If it took longer than two weeks, I was on my own and help would not be coming if I was discovered and captured.

On the day I was supposed to leave, there were whispers and rumors from the doctors and scientists that an asset was being delivered to the bunker. They called him the Patriot. He was allegedly an American soldier captured from the war that wasn’t released with the remaining prisoners of war when it ended. He was being used as their test subject for the biological experiments I was pretending to help facilitate. It was rumored that whatever was given to him gave him superhuman strength.

I decided then and there I would try and take him with me. If I had the opportunity to save someone while I’m here, I have to try. It’s what Bucky and Steve would’ve done if they were here instead of me.

I adjust the satchel across my body and keep my hand hidden inside, ready to shoot and kill anyone who gets in my way. The long maze of hallways and dark corridors don’t deter me as I listen to my heart race and the desperate cries of the soldier hidden away in a locked room. Two guards are posted in front of the door, and I eye the set of keys on one of their belts.

I let out a careful breath and brush my hair from my shoulders. I force a smile on to my face and the men eagerly return it. I approach them like a girl ready to be carried away into the sunset. They smirk at me, and I let my free hand trail down the arm of one of them towards his belt. He grins at the attention I give him. My fingers carefully hook on to his belt and I look into his eyes. I think his name is Aaron.

We’d been playing a cat and mouse game since my arrival and now that he was guarding whoever was behind that door, I needed to use it to my full advantage.

“Wanna sneak out for a second? There’s an unlocked room calling our names,” I asked quietly in Russian.

He flashes me a toothy grin and nods. He turns to the other guard, and they share a quick word. I grab his hand and quickly move down the hall. I open the door to the unlocked room and push him inside. He laughs eagerly as I shut the door, and his mouth finds the side of my neck. I involuntarily shiver and he grabs the hem of my shirt, pulling it out from under my pants. His hand palms my skin and slides up to squeeze my breast. I lock the door and turn to face him.

“We need to be quick and quiet, yes?”

He nods in agreement and takes me by the hand towards the table in the room. I slide my hand up his arm again and he grins at me. This time, I return the grin before twisting his arm. He lets out a surprised cry and I use my body weight to throw him into the table. He claws at my arms as I choke him from behind before he goes limp.

I exhale a heavy breath and unclip the keys from his belt loop. I readjust my top and shake out my shoulders. I step over his unconscious body and slip out of the room. I hurry down the hall again towards the lone remaining guard. His brows pinch together, and his hand hesitates on the gun at his hip.

He opens his mouth to speak, but I don’t give him the chance to say anything. Instead, I press my palm into his throat, and he immediately chokes. I swipe his legs underneath him and his eyes widen in surprise. I hold his head between my thighs until he goes unconscious.

I stand quickly and insert the key into the locked door. The door creaks open and I pull the guard in from behind me before slowly shutting the door. I let out a deep exhale and try to catch my breath by briefly taking in my surroundings.

There’s a blinding white light hanging from the ceiling illuminating the room. The man, who I can only assume is the asset and American soldier they’re calling the Patriot, is strapped to a metal table. The thing that stands out to me the most is that he’s missing his left arm. He’s dressed in rags for clothes, and it looks like he’s gone far too long without proper food and water. The only thing clean about him is the white bandage where his arm should be. He's muttering quietly and soft cries fill the room.

I slowly approach the table and look down at him. A gasp escapes my throat, and I start to feel dizzy. I feel like I’m staring at a ghost. My hands shake and my heart starts racing.

Oh my God. Oh my God.

The Patriot is Bucky. My Bucky. My Bucky who’s been presumed dead for more than a year. My Bucky who dreamed of a life for us after the war. My Bucky is the one who’s been tortured and experimented on for who knows how long.

A wave of emotions hit me in my chest and stomach. Relief, anger, grief, and elation flow through me and tug at my heart.

Tears threaten to spill over my cheeks, and I gingerly reach out to touch him. His eyes are closed and there’s a dried spot of blood on his temple. Dirt, sweat, and grime cover his skin. Bucky’s eyes fly open, and he flinches when my hand makes contact with his forehead. He winces against the harsh artificial light and blinks a couple times before his eyes meet mine.

“Bucky,” I can’t help but cry. “How is this possible? How are you still alive?”

Bucky’s brows pinch together, and he whispers my name like he’s in a trance. His voice is rough, and he winces when he speaks. “Am I dreaming? Are you real? What are you doing here? Where are we?”

I move quickly and unbuckle the straps that pin his arm and legs to the table. I help him sit up and glance through the small window at the door. The hall was still empty, and the alarms still haven’t been signaled.

“As much as I would like to answer your questions, we don’t have time. I will answer them later. We have to get out of here. Now. Can you stand?” I asked him, carefully reaching for his arm.

“I’ll just slow you down. You need to leave me here. You have to save yourself. If they catch you-”

“No,” I interrupted him. “That’s not an option. I won’t leave you. We leave together or not at all.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, and I carefully help him to his feet. He leans on me as we walk to the door. I open the door slowly and pull my gun from the satchel, aiming it straight ahead as we walk together towards one of the emergency exits that lead to the vehicle transports.

The alarms break through our heavy breathing, and I lean us against a wall in a hidden alcove. I turn to look at Bucky and he’s white as a sheet, but he’s eyes still hold the same warmth they’ve always had when he looks at me. I brush his hair out of his face and his shudders at my touch. I press a soft kiss to his mouth and rest my forehead against his.

“You ready? We have to move quickly. If I get stopped for any reason, you run as fast as you can, you hear me? Do not stop and help me to be the hero, no matter what,” I carefully take the satchel from across my body and throw it over his head. “Get these to Peggy Carter.”

He starts to protest and I shut him up with another heart pounding kiss, my hands holding the sides of his face. “I will not lose you again. There is no time to argue. Do you understand me? Promise me you’ll do what I say.”

Bucky nods silently and braces himself against me, his arm wrapped protectively around me like a warm blanket, “I promise.”

 We step out into the light and run as fast as we can towards the exit. I shoot anyone that gets in our way and break through the exit door with Bucky beside me.

My eyes find the nearest vehicle and I pull Bucky towards the passenger door when pain rips through my shoulder. A silent scream fills my lungs, and I fall to my knees, my gun falling uselessly at my side. Bucky yells my name and reaches for me. Blood soaks through my shirt and the pain blinds my vision. I can’t hear anything.

Bucky quickly grabs the gun and stands up, aiming it at the men that face us. He takes a careful step back and I’m forced to my feet. I cry out and feel the barrel of a gun against the side of my head. My heart pounds loudly against my chest.

“Let her go,” Bucky demands, his eyes passing between me and the men holding me up.

“I knew there was a rat in our midst,” Dr. Nikolai Frolov hummed beside me. His hand wraps in my hair and he tugs harshly, pulling my head back. I yelp and tears fill my eyes. “I could just smell it. It’s a shame such a pretty face made such a stupid decision. Why risk your life for someone you don’t know?”

“Bucky, shoot me,” I begged, looking at him. Tears stain my cheeks.

He looks at me like I shot him. His eyes are wild with desperation as he stares at me. Silent tears coat his face and mix with the sweat on his skin.

Frolov hums again and looks between us. “I misspoke then; you do know each other. From the look in your eyes, the desperation seeping from your skin, I’m guessing you know each other too well, hmm? Is this the woman you cry out to, Sargent? What did you say her name was?”

A beat of silence passes over us and it feels like time has stopped. Frolov digs his fingers into the wound on my shoulder, and I collapse in agony. I can hardly see, but I look up at Bucky.

“You promised me you wouldn’t try to be the hero. Please. Shoot me, Bucky, please,” I cried.

Agony fills his face, and he aims the gun at me. I close my eyes, waiting for the end, but too much time has passed. I open my eyes again and look at him. Bucky has the barrel of the gun pressed against his temple.

“If I kill myself, all your research and progress goes away, yes? Whatever you’ve been doing to me will die with me? You can’t do whatever it is without me,” Bucky threatens, finger lingering on the trigger. “Let her go and I won’t kill myself.”

Frolov laughs and shoves me to the ground. I’m too weak to catch myself and my head hits the ground with a loud crack. The blinding pain from my shoulder travels up my spine and surrounds my head. My head spins and I can’t see straight.

“Go ahead and try,” Frolov replied. “There’s a reason you haven’t yet and that’s because you can’t. I have been able to rewire your brain and alter your self preservation, but feel free to test it out. You’ve had multiple opportunities to kill yourself and yet you haven’t, have you stopped to think and wonder why that is? As much as you want to leverage your life for hers, you can’t. It’s admirable what people try to do to save the people they love most. She’s asked you to kill her. Go ahead.”

He grabs me by the hair again and drags me until I’m at Bucky’s feet. He forces me to look up at Bucky. Silence fills the hanger, and I try to take slow breaths. I can see the calculations and risks Bucky’s weighing in his eyes. His lip trembles as he moves the gun from his temple down to meet my forehead. His finger hesitates over the trigger.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s okay. I asked you to. It’s not your fault. I love you.”

“I love you. I’m sorry, please forgive me,” Bucky murmured back before falling to his knees in front of me, raising his hand in surrender. The gun falls out of his grasp.  

No! A sob rips through me, and we’re instantly surrounded. Guards shove him to the floor and pin his arm behind his back. The sound of Frolov’s laughter fills the room once more and he claps eagerly.

“You promised me!” I cried as guards dragged us a part. Desperate sobs fill my lungs and agony and betrayal coat my skin. “You promised you would do what I said. You promised me you wouldn’t be the hero.”  

“Take them away,” Frolov demanded. “Make sure to separate them. Take her to the lab, I have plans for her. Subdue her if you have to.”

I start to scream and thrash against the guards pinning me to the floor, fighting as hard as I can. “No! No! No! Bucky!”

A blinding pain hits the back of my head, and I crumble to ground. My vision goes dark, and I succumb to the pain.

….

NOW

I slowly come to. My throat burns and it feels like my chest is on fire. There’s a slight ringing in my ears and I hear the slow, steady beating of the heart rate monitor. Disinfectant fills my nose, and my eyes moves slowly inside my head.

A groan settles in my throat, and I open my eyes. I blink a few times and reach to rub my face, but I can’t. I look down and my arms are pinned down to the bed in leather straps. Panic grips me and I pull against the leather. My heart races and the sound of the heart rate monitor grows with each passing second. Alarms go off and a team of doctors and nurses enter the room.

They do nothing to ease my panic. It’s like I’m not even here. Fear fills my chest at the sight of the white coats, clipboards, and scrubs. My eyes fly to the door, and Yelena comes racing in. Tears blur my vision and a sob escapes me. My voice fails me. I feel helpless. It brings me back to memories I have tried so hard to forget and move on from.

“Back off!” Yelena yells, shoving them away from me. She looks at the cuffs strapped to my wrists. “Can’t you see you’re scaring her? Take the cuffs off.”

One of the faceless doctors turn to Yelena and barely spares me a passing glance. “The restraints are for her own safety as well as for our own. Until we deem she is no longer a threat to herself or others, they stay on. She’s on suicide watch because of what she did.”

I watch Yelena grit her teeth and straighten her spin. Her presence and energy towers over them. “I’m telling you right now she is not a threat. She is not suicidal. If you don’t take them off or let me do it for you, there will be a problem. Do you want there to be a problem?”

Yelena’s threat fills the air and makes the room heavy. The medical team glances at each other and the doctor that spoke lets out a heavy sigh. He moves towards me, and I hold my breath and stare down at his hands as he frees my wrists from the restraints. I immediately hold my hands to my chest and rub my wrists between my fingers.

“Good choice.”

“We’ll be back shortly,” the doctor muttered before he and the other doctors and nurses exit the room.

Yelena approaches my bedside and pulls the chair from the corner of the room to sit beside me. A shaky sigh leaves my mouth, and I rest my head against the pillows at my back. Tears silently coat my cheeks. Yelena gingerly takes one of my hands into hers and rubs her thumb across the back of my hand, carefully avoiding the needle pumping fluids into my veins.

I turn my head away from her and look towards the bare wall. I bite my bottom lip to suppress a sob and fail miserably. Yelena whispers my name, and I turn again to look at her. Shame bursts inside my chest so big that it hurts. She has stitches across her forehead and a bruise along the side of her face. I know without asking that I did that, that I hurt my closest friend.

The mission comes rushing back to me. I failed so spectacularly. I had one job and couldn’t even do that. Memories of Bierhal blowing a powdered substance into my face flash every time I blink. The loss of control I felt when I couldn’t speak and couldn’t tell Yelena or Bucky why I was trying to hurt them. The suffocating familiarity I felt when I looked at and tried to attack the two people who looked like me. The realization dawning on Bucky before he had the chance to stop me when I stabbed myself in the gut to prevent Yelena from shooting.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered before coughing uncontrollably.

I wheeze and wince at the burn in my abdomen. Yelena reaches across to the small counter beside me and fills a plastic cup with water. She leans over me and tips the water into my mouth, the cup brushing against my lips. The cool water coats my throat, and I swallow hard. I gasp in relief and relax against the bed. Yelena brushes her fingers against my forehead and gently tugs my hair out of my face.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You weren’t in control. You didn’t mean to hurt me. You didn’t have a choice.”

Silence falls between us, and Yelena helps me with sips of water whenever I cough. I let out a careful breath, considering my next words. I swallow hard. “What happen after…”

“After you stabbed yourself in the stomach?” Yelena asked.

I nod silently.

Yelena sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “You coded twice on the jet. Even though the doctor is an asshole, he saved your life. It’s a miracle you’re still here. They took samples of your blood to try and figure out what was in the drug that Markov doused you with. The lab is still waiting on the results.”

“And Bucky?”

“He was distraught, obviously. He had to watch Joaquin and Sam perform CPR and use the defibrillator until your heart started again.”

Another wave of tears break through, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I press my palms into my face and Yelena reaches for my hand again and squeezes it firmly. “He hasn’t left your side since you got out of surgery. Sam had to drag him out of here so he could shower and get some sleep.”

I nod quietly and ignore the lump in my throat and the ache in my chest. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Yelena and I sit in silence for a while before the doctor returns. He glances at the chart in his hands before glancing at me through his glasses.

“I don’t know what possessed you to stab yourself, but you’re lucky to be alive. You pierced your small intestine. If it wasn’t for the quick thinking of Mr. Wilson and Mr. Torres, I can’t say for certainty that you would still be here. You also have a broken nose and several bruised ribs. I also stitched the laceration on your forehead. How are you tolerating the pain?” he asked.

I swallow hard and Yelena gives me some more water before I answer. “That explains why it feels like my gut is on fire,” I hissed through gritted teeth.   

“I’ll give you some morphine for the pain.”

The thought of taking morphine makes my heart race. It just brings back memories of torture, pain, and never being fully present for the things HYDRA did to me. The alarms on the monitor fill the room and Yelena places a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“It’s okay. I’ll be here when you wake up,” she promised. “No one will hurt you.”

I nod slowly and watch the doctor take a syringe and push the liquid into my IV. The pain subsides after several minutes, and I dip into a dreamless slumber.

….

The next time I wake up, I feel better than I did before. I open my eyes and turn my head, finding Bucky sitting beside me. His arms are crossed over his chest and his head leans back on the wall, eyes closed.

I wince as I sit up and Bucky immediately opens his eyes. He leans towards me and hesitantly takes my hand in his. Both flesh and metal hands envelop my hand, and he brings it up to his mouth, kissing my knuckles gently. He’s careful to avoid the IV on the top of my hand. It sends shivers down my spine.  

“Hey,” I mumbled quietly, my voice rough with sleep.

He reaches for the cup of water on the table attached to the hospital bed and helps me take a sip.  He brushes his metal hand gently across my forehead and the coolness of his fingers is a welcome relief to the heat in my chest. Bucky sits back down but doesn’t let go of my hand. His fingers brush against the bruising on my wrist.

“Hey,” he whispered back. “How are you feeling?”

“Better than before, but everything hurts still.”

Bucky nods silently and I take in his haggard appearance. His hair’s a mess and he has bags under his eyes. His shirt is a wrinkled mess. He has a scrape on the side of his face, but its already on its way to healing. It’s a stark contrast to what he looked like the last time I saw him, the way I usually see him.

Since his tenure as a Congressman and Avenger started, Bucky was the picture of what it meant to be put together. Crisp suits, neat hair, tailored beard, clean skin. It’s strange to see him like this.

There’s so much I want to say to him, to ask him, to explain to him, but I don’t know where to start. How do you explain to the person you love most in the world why you pushed him away? How do you ask him questions about memories you’re too afraid to relive, too afraid to admit that it was true and not a figment of your imagination when he’s the only one that has the answers?

Bucky swallows hard and his eyes find mine again. I try to find the right words to say but they fail me. I used to be able to say anything and everything to him, and now I can’t. The slow beeping of the heart rate monitor fills the room as we stare at each other. We may as well have been at opposite ends of the earth with the space that filled the silence between us.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky apologized quietly, as he squeezed my hand and rubbed my skin.

My brows pinch together in confusion as I stare at him. I sit up a little straighter. “Sorry?” I asked. “What do you have to be sorry for? The mission failed because of me, not because of anything you did.”

Tears threaten to spill from his eyes, and he squeezes my hand tightly. “Back then… when you tried to rescue me when you were undercover. I promised you I wouldn’t try to be the hero and broke that promise when I didn’t kill you like you asked. I betrayed you when you needed me the most. If I had… the things that were done to you… the things I did to you… what happened during the mission… none of that would’ve happened if I wasn’t such a fucking coward and did what you asked.”

Bucky says the word with such venom that I wince. Silent tears coat my cheeks, and I bite the inside of my cheek and swallow hard. “I put you in an impossible position, Bucky. I should’ve never put that on you in the first place. I was desperate for you to escape, even at the cost of my own life. Even if I was angry with you, I forgave you a long time ago. None of what happened after that was your fault. You didn’t have a choice and neither did I. Now I just have to live with the decisions I made that led us to this point.”

His face crumbles and he pushes the chair impossibly closer to the bed. He leans his elbows over the bed. “Then why push me away? If it wasn’t my fault, why does it feel like you’re punishing me?” Bucky’s voice cracks and is filled with desperation. “Explain it to me.”

He holds my face between his hands and looks at me with such love that it hurts to breathe. He brushes away my tears and I sniff quietly. “Bucky, you’re an Avenger and a politician. You’ve healed so much and I just… I haven’t. I get these flashes of memories I know you have the answers to. I’m too scared and too ashamed to ask you about them, so I pretend they don’t exist. I don’t want to hold you back from moving on.”

The weight of my confession hangs in the air, and I stare at my lap. Bucky’s stare burns the side of my face. He moves to stand, and I expect him to get up and go. It’s what he deserves. Instead, he carefully climbs into the bed beside me and holds me in his arms for the first time in so, so long.

My shoulders shake and fat ugly tears stain my face. It feels like I can breathe for the first time. The weight in my chest and in my heart from keeping this from Bucky goes away. Bucky’s own tears wet my hair and his mouth presses against my skin for the first time in decades. He kisses my cheeks, my throat, my forehead. He breathes me in and for a moment, I’m brought back in time to the days before the war, before everything changed forever.

“None of that means anything to me if I don’t have you to share it with,” Bucky whispered against my skin. “I have spent over 80 years trying to get back to you, even if I didn’t realize it at the time.”

Silence fills the room again and I’m nearly asleep again when Bucky mutters something against my skin that I don’t quite understand or catch. “Hmm?”

“Why did you stab yourself?” Bucky asked, playing with the ends of my hair between his fingers. I feel his hot stare on the back of my neck.

My spine stiffens and I swallow hard. A cold sweat starts to form on my back, and I shift uncomfortably. “You know why,” I murmured.

“I do. I just want to hear you say it.”

A shaky sigh leaves my mouth as I build up the courage to answer him. “Whatever I was drugged with rewired my brain and made you and Yelena into combatants. I couldn’t speak and tell you what was going on or what happened. When Yelena knocked me to the floor after I tried to stab her, she had her gun trained on… on her. I didn’t know what to do. You were preoccupied with him. I couldn’t hurt them because of the drugs, and I didn’t want to hurt you or Yelena, so I panicked. I thought if I created a big enough distraction, no one I cared about would get hurt. It was a calculated risk I had to take, and I don’t regret it.”

“Do you remember who they are?”

The question weighs on my shoulders and sits on my chest. I let out a careful breath and nod. “I didn’t at first. When I looked at them… really looked at them, I knew. I knew like my lungs know how to breathe for me. It was like I was staring at them for the first time. I knew I was staring at our kids. Maggie and Peter.”

Bucky kisses the side of my head and brushes away the last of my tears, “Yes.”

[cosmicdahlias]

You Know What You Do To Me

a ford x reader fic

MINORS DNI

You work as Ford’s assistant, you’ve been teasing him by acting like a little harlot. You went too far and now you’re going to be punished for it.

warnings: smut, oral, mdom

i’ve really enjoyed writing these fics! it’s been so long since i’ve been passionate about something like this 😭

It was another afternoon working at the Mystery Shack. You were dusting shelves, thinking about later tonight. You had two jobs, by day you sold overpriced knickknacks for your boss, local con artist Stan Pines, and by night you worked for his brother, Stanford. Before he even came back through the portal you were a big fan of his work, Dipper regularly lent you the journals during your breaks. You pored over the material, longing to meet the author.

When you met him it was a typical day, typical as things get in Gravity Falls. You were helping Soos fix up the place after the town had turned upside down, he filled you in on the cause. A portal, Stan had a brother who had been missing for 30 years, and more importantly this brother was the mysterious author you so desperately wanted to meet.

You were in the process of nailing a shelf back to the wall when you heard a door open behind you. You turned to see a man who looked nearly identical to Stan, but better posture, and somehow… cooler. You knew instantly this must be the man behind the journals. Your heart skipped a beat, not just from the excitement of finally getting to see the author, but because you couldn’t get over how handsome he was.

He looked at you and you felt yourself turn into a puddle. You could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks flush slightly, but convinced yourself you were seeing things.

“OH MY GOD THE AUTHOR IS LOOKING RIGHT AT ME!!! BE COOL!!! BE COOL!!!” You thought rapidly.

He made his way over to you and extended a hand to you, six fingers, the symbol on the journal’s cover made so much sense.

“Stanford Pines, you must be one of Stanley’s employees.”

“Y/n. You’re… the author of the journals.”

“You’ve read my journals?”

There it was again, the faintest tint of red on his cheeks.

“Yeah, multiple times. Your nephew lends them to me sometimes. I’ve always been into the weird and paranormal.”

“Well it’s always a pleasure to find someone who appreciates my life’s work.”

-

In the weeks that followed Ford would ask you to become his assistant. He insisted he was getting too old to do these things on his own. You loved working with him, unraveling the mysteries of this town. It gave you a sense of purpose.

The tension between you two was more than palpable, but neither of you had been willing to admit it to each other yet. Your time together was filled with stolen glances and flushed cheeks.

As you finished dusting a snow globe your mind wandered to your mentor. You had been pushing the limits lately, trying to get his attention. You wore more and more revealing clothes, you would drop your pen just to have an excuse to bend over in front of him, you would find reasons to stand close to him. You could tell it was driving him crazy, he would awkwardly excuse himself and disappear for ten to fifteen minutes, returning breathless.

But you started to think yesterday might have gone too far. You were sitting to the right of him as he was writing in his research notes, you pulled up your skirt slightly, slipping a hand down to your-

“Y/n, can we talk?”

You jumped, Ford had a habit of moving silently. A valuable skill when you’ve spent the last 30 years in other dimensions constantly staring death in the face.

You let your heart rate settle. “Yeah, sure.”

“Good, follow me.” He motioned you with his hand.

You both walked down the stairs to the basement where his lab resided, he turned to face you.

“Look, y/n, I know what you’ve been doing.”

You turned scarlet. You decided to feign ignorance.

“What do you mean?”

He exhaled a deep breath, massaging his temples. “Don’t play this game with me, you know exactly what you’re doing to me. Wearing shorter and shorter skirts, giving me bedroom eyes, finding any reason to bend over in front of me, and then yesterday-” he paused “yesterday you went out of your way to drive me crazy. You sat next to me, hiking up your skirt and you-“

He drew a shuddering breath, stepping awfully close, his chest almost touching yours “teased your clit over your panties, knowing full well you were in my peripherals. And you did that on purpose, stopping whenever I looked your way just to torture me, not letting me savor such a gorgeous view. I thought about you all night, I came with your name leaving my lips. And now-“ he pulled out a chair “you’re going to sit in front of me and touch yourself.”

“Ford-“

“No, you were so eager to do it yesterday, what’s stopping you now?”

You felt yourself grow wet under his words, you sat yourself down in front of him.

“Take off your panties, go ahead, take them off.”

You slipped the fabric down your legs and off your ankles letting them drop to the floor in front of you.

“Spread your legs, let me see you. Pull that skirt up.”

You obeyed his instructions.

“Now, slip a finger in your cunt and use your wetness to stroke your clit.”

You let your finger travel down to your dripping pussy, you traced little circles on your clit. You let out a sigh, Ford was watching you touch yourself, you had dreamed of this.

A growl rumbled in his throat, he watched you hungrily. His cock strained in his pants, he wanted to touch himself, but he couldn’t, not yet. You moaned softly, your brow furrowing in concentration.

“Faster, don’t stop.”

You picked up your pace, rubbing frantically, your moans growing louder, echoing through the lab. You hoped no one upstairs could hear you.

“Tell me how it feels.” He demanded.

“Mmmh, Ford, it feels so good.” You whimpered.

“That’s right, I know it does.”

He stepped close to you, a hand on the back of the chair, looking straight at you. You could smell him, fresh pine and leather. Your breathing became shallow and erratic, you were getting close. Ford could sense it.

“Are you going to cum?”

“Y- yes.”

“Good, look at me.”

You locked eyes with him, he stared at you intently. The feeling on your clit was becoming overwhelming, you were going to cum, dear god you were going to cum for him.

“Nhhh, ah hah, Ford.” You pathetically whimpered out, you couldn’t form a real sentence if you tried.

You felt yourself right on the edge, god you loved this, you loved putting on a show for him, you gritted your teeth in anticipation.

“Stop.”

“Wh- what?”

“You heard me, stop touching yourself.”

You withdrew your hand, your orgasm ruined.

“Why did you- I don’t understand.”

“You’ve been teasing me for weeks, with yesterday being the final straw. Now you’re going to see how it feels. Actions have consequences and you’re going to learn that. You don’t get to cum.”

He pulled you up by your arm, he grabbed your face and kissed you sloppily in pure hunger and desire. He let you go and dropped his hands to his belt buckle, undoing it.

“You need to see what you’re doing to me.”

He slipped his pants down enough to reveal his thick, hard cock. Fuck, he’s big. You bit your lip instinctively.

“Stroke my cock, now.”

You wrapped your hand around his shaft, your thumb massaging the head. He let out a groan of approval and you began pumping his cock. He started kissing and sucking on your neck, he was going to mark you so everyone knew you were his property. He started to buck into your hand, a bead of precum forming at the head. He throbbed, moaning into your neck.

He took your face in his hands again, god you loved when he looked at you.

“Get on your knees and take my cock in your mouth.”

“Yes sir.”

He throbbed at “sir” no one had ever called him that, he liked it. He made a mental note to encourage you to keep saying it.

You dropped to your knees and took his full length in your mouth.

“Fuuuck baby you’re so good at this, no one’s ever taken me all the way down before.”

He grabbed a fistful of hair and began fucking your mouth aggressively. You choked and pulled back. He chuckled.

“Oh poor baby, guess I spoke too soon, I’m sorry sometimes I forget how hard it is to handle a cock like mine.” He taunted while stroking your chin with his thumb. “I’ll try to slow down, it helps if you make an effort to breathe out of your nose.”

He resumed face fucking you, this time with a slightly more gentle rhythm, but you still felt the inclination to gag. You attempted to steadily breathe out of your nose and felt the urge subside. He clenched his jaw and picked up his pace again, you were really struggling to take him, he liked it that way.

His hips stuttered and bucked against your mouth. He could feel his orgasm rising.

“Baby slow down, slow down you’re gonna make me cum.”

You decided to ignore him, continuing to work your mouth on his cock.

“Stopstopstopstop. Stop!” He growled.

He seized your hair and pulled you off of his cock, knocking you backward. He reached out a hand and pulled you to your feet, then raised a hand and brought it down hard on your ass.

“You need to listen to me, next time I won’t be so nice.”

You savored the idea of being left with a six fingered welt. He lowered his hands to your hips and spun you around. He pressed himself against your back, his hard cock throbbing on your ass. His hand gripped your throat and he whispered in your ear.

“I’m going to fuck you senseless until I finish inside of you and you’re not going to cum, do you understand?”

You nodded fervently.

“Good, you’re so cute when you listen.” He said while slipping his thumb in your mouth.

He bent you over his desk, papers falling to the floor, one hand gripping your shoulder, the other on your hip. He pressed the tip of his cock into you before forcing the rest of his length inside of you. You started to scream out in pleasure, but Ford instinctively clasped a hand over your mouth.

He slapped your ass again. “Quiet, stardust, do you want everyone to hear you?”

He began to pump his cock inside of you, his hips slapping against your ass. You tightened around him and he groaned loudly.

“God I love the way your pussy squeezes my cock, it’s so fucking perfect.” He panted between thrusts.

He fucked you with a brutal intensity. He was doing this for his own pleasure, not yours. Like he said, you didn’t get to cum, not after what you had done yesterday. He pulled out and you whined, paused for effect and slammed himself back in. You threw your head back, moaning his name.

It felt so goddam good to finally fuck you like this after all the moments he had to steal himself away from his work to just to stroke his cock because you were incessantly teasing him. He had imagined you bent over his desk like this thousands of times. The image of you taking his cock like a good little whore was all the could picture whenever he caught you staring at him.

His grip on your shoulder and hip tightened, nails digging into your flesh. He was fucking you faster and faster, he wanted so badly to know what cumming in you felt like. You started to move your hips back onto him. Oh my god he couldn’t believe you wanted him this badly.

“Goddammit yes baby fuck back on my cock like that, you’re gonna make me fucking cum.”

You whimpered in approval.

“Would you like that stardust? Huh? Do you want me to cum inside of you?”

All you could manage was a weak “Uh huh.”

He panted like a dog, he was gonna breed you like one. Sweat began go form on his forehead, his glasses fogging.

“You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted this, wanted you. When I first met you I thought you were so fucking beautiful. I spent that night stroking myself to the cute Mystery Shack employee. I thought it was just a lonely old man’s fantasy that you would ever show me any interest, but then you started working for me and you would look at me with those eyes. God those eyes, so full of lust and want.”

You felt his cock throb inside you, he was close.

“I’m going to fill you up, have you dripping with my cum. Tell me you want it, I want to hear you beg.”

“Please, I need your cum in me. I need it so bad.”

“Call me sir.”

“Ahhh, hah, please sir, cum in me.”

He moaned loudly as he fucked you with a ruthless intensity. He buried himself deep in you as he came, your name escaping his lips. He didn’t stop fucking you, the feeling was overwhelming but he couldn’t help himself.

For a while there was nothing but the sounds of your heavy breaths. He began to slowly pull his cock out of you, cum spilling onto the floor. Jesus fucking christ he needed to draw this later.

You stayed bent over his desk, legs shaking. He grabbed you by your waist and pulled you onto his lap as he sat in his desk chair.

“Are you alright? I didn’t take it too far, did I?” He said stroking your hair.

“N- no, it was incredible.” You said between haggard breaths.

“Good, now here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go upstairs and finish the rest of your shift. You are to keep your panties off and let my cum slowly drip out of you. And then later tonight you’ll stay here and I’ll reward you by letting you cum on my tongue and cock, if, and only if you heed my instructions. Do we have a deal, stardust?”

Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. Having Ford to yourself all night? Holy fucking shit yes.

“Deal.” You smiled.

“That’s my baby.” He said cupping your chin and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

-

You ascended up the creaking stairs back to work. Mind still buzzing with the moment you had just shared with Ford.

“There you are. I was startin’ to think you ditched, but then I- whoa, what happened to you, kid? You look like you’ve been hit by a bus.” Stan said in his gruff voice.

You caught your reflection in the window, your hair was a mess. You quickly attempted to fix it.

“Ah, uh, I was just helping Ford fix some stuff.”

Stan stared at you for a second before a smirk creased his lips.

“Oh yeah I bet he fixed you real good, kid.”

You turned beet red “No, that’s not what I-“

He laughed. “Look, I’m just happy you two finally hooked up. I was gettin’ real sick of watching you two ogle at each other like horny repressed teenagers. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a bet to settle with Wendy.”

“Great, Stan. Thanks for not making things awkward.”

[emeritusemeritus]

Hello! May I please request a muggle female reader with Fred Weasley where she is a single mother to an almost 2 year old daughter, and Fred saves their lives after the Wizarding War ended from a stray Death Eater who hadn’t quite given up (this death eater had destroyed Y/n’s home and tried to kill them) and lets them stay with him and George in their apartment above their shop? And Fred and Y/n fall in love and he becomes a father to her daughter and George is becomes her uncle?

Hello my love! This was such a pleasure to write, I hope I was able to do your request justice 🖤

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy and kids towards the end. brief mentions of the wizarding war and death eaters. Descriptions of fear and panic. Minor injury and mentions of blood but it’s skippable. Muggle!Reader. Fred is a sweetheart but slightly clueless. Reader’s daughter is named Betty, I thought it was sweet. George is a menace as usual. Love potions and potential use of them but not in the intended way. Do love potions work on muggles? Up to you to decide I guess. True feelings discovered and explored. Fred would be the best dad. In my research I found out that a group of Pygmy Puffs is called a poffle and I don’t know what to do with that information except write it into every fic going forward. As someone with a toddler herself, the ‘let’s go!’ Is intended to sound as bossy and funny as possible.

Word count: 3.9k

Song for writing: When the smoke goes down by the Scorpions.

Summary: Fred Weasley saves Muggle!Reader and her toddler daughter from a death eater that had destroyed their home. Within a month it’s undeniable; For her, he is her knight in shining armour and to him, she’s his everything.

When the smoke goes down [Fred Weasley]

When the smoke is going down

"I think I'm in love with her."

"Congratulations on being the last one to find out."

George all but scoffs in reply, shooting a cursory glance at his twin laced with mischief. Fred fixes George with a harsh glare in reply but he doesn't even acknowledge it, turning back to the task at hand.

"Any chance you're going to stop moping and actually help setting up for the day? Nearly time to open up," George says, closing the cash register and waving his wand in a precise and practiced manner as he had done countless times before, the shop lighting up around him.

Never one to apologise, Fred shifts from his spot slumped over the counter and pulls out his own wand to complete his own tasks. With a flick of his wrist, the stacks of rotating shelves begin to slowly turn and the figure of the puking pastilles mascot begins to puke on a loop.

"You could, you know, just tell her how you feel. No point telling me. I already knew," George says, hauling a large box of restocked products across the shopfloor, seeing that once again his brother had paused and looked to be in another daydream.

"Sod off," Fred says, discounting the idea entirely. "You know it'll just make everything weird."

"Weird? You're practically playing house now, how's any of that going to change? Except maybe sleeping in your own bed again."

Technically George's words were true, if not a little underhanded, but Fred wasn't so naive to believe nothing would change. Though he was a little too big to fit his entire body on the sofa he'd been sleeping on, offering his room to their guests and sleeping in his bed again, preferably not alone, was a very appealing thought.

It had been a month since y/n and her nearly two year old daughter Betty had moved in with the brothers above their shop, needing a place to stay after their home had been burned down by a stray death eater who refused to believe that the war was over. Fred shuddered anytime he thought of the two of them fighting for their lives against him and the pain they endured having to watch their home and all of their treasured belongs burn down to the ground, akin to how his own family had done only years prior. The burrow had survived, the many enchantment placed upon it acting as a shield so that it only suffered some cosmetic damage that could be fixed easily. Being a muggle without any form of protective enchantment or defence had not been so lucky and they had lost everything.

He'd taken her and her daughter in without question, almost breaking the veil of secrecy in the process but it had been for the greater good and thus was lawful. Though he understood more now, Fred had been perplexed as the offer slipped from his mouth, wondering how he could feel so attached and desperate to help a perfect stranger. Now, it all seemed to make sense. She was perfect for him, in every sense of the word. She laughter at his jokes, even the terrible ones, lit up at the stories of his shenanigans and had a passion for mischief he found so painfully attractive. She was in awe of the wizarding world around her and took to it like a duck to water. She was fascinated by every little thing he showed her and in turn she had opened his eyes to so many muggle things he'd either had no knowledge of before or had been ignorant to. She got along with George so well it was like they'd known each other for years and seemed to slip into the Weasley family as if there was always a space for her.

Not to mention how breathtakingly beautiful she was, and her melodic laugh that Fred could listen to on a loop for days on end without tiring.

Betty, her almost two year old daughter was the bright light in Fred's life that he never knew was missing. He loved to make her laugh and one time even managed to make milk come out of her nose she was laughing so hard, a personal achievement he would carry with him forever. Truthfully he'd never known if he wanted kids, never really thought about it, but being in Betty's presence for even an hour made him certain that he did want kids now, and specifically he wanted to keep Betty around. Molly had naturally fallen in love with the little girl and he had to admit that she did seem completely at home whenever they were at the burrow, like both of them had always belonged.

It had only been a month but the prospect of losing them both eventually made Fred's heart ache a little more than he cared to admit.

"Boss," the voice breaks Fred's daydream, making him slip back to reality.

"Other boss," she smiles, nodding her head at George as he rolls his eyes playfully at being greeted second.

"Where do you want me?" She asks, leaning against the counter where Fred had been slouched only moments ago, looking between the two for instructions. Now that was a loaded question.

"Love potions today for you, get those sales up," George grins, swishing his wand so that the box full of potions to be restocked levitates over her head until it's placed in front of the wonder witch shelves. She salutes with a grin and spins on the spot, turning in the direction of the almost sickeningly pink section of the shop.

Fred looks at George with a questioning gaze, wondering why he'd assigned her that area when there were plenty of other jobs more urgent. Instead of an explanation he was hoping for, George simply wiggles his eyebrows suggestively with a dung-eating grin and walks away towards his next task.

The glass smashing upon the wooden floor silences the bustling shop immediately, the abundant, loud chatter filling the space only moments ago dissolving in seconds. Everyone turns towards the disturbance, their eyes curious, the shop still silent as all eyes look towards  you.

You don't see them, not their confused glances, your own eyes fixated on one spot, all other surroundings falling away from you. You were certain you'd seen him, them. You'd heard of the fight or flight response before, hell you'd experienced it more in the last month than you ever had before, but what they'd always failed to mention was the third response, freeze. You were completely frozen to the spot, eyes blank and glazed as your heart pounds, filling your ears until there's nothing else you can hear. You'd completely unaware of the glass splintered around you, the once bottled love potion now covering your jeans and shoes. There's a faint buzzing from your hand somewhere in the back of your conscious mind but you can't bring yourself to look down to explore why.

After what feels like an eternity, you feel the presence of someone moving in front of you, cutting off your fixated vision. There's a wave of orange cutting in front of your eyes and then warmth around your shoulders, a faint sound beginning to fill your ears that gets increasingly louder. Suddenly, you're more aware of where you are though you can't begin to understand what had happened. The sight before your eyes slowly connects with your logical brain once more, your mind beginning to understand what it was seeing. Fred.

Fred was stood in front of you, crouched down so that he was eye to eye, keeping a slight distance as to not spook you whilst trying to comfort you. The warmth you could feel were his hands upon your shoulders, shaking gently, oh so gently, trying to get your attention. You watch as his lips move, the pink full lips trying to talk to you though you can hardly hear what he's saying, hearing nothing more than a dull hum that sounds vaguely Fred-like.

"Love, are you okay? Can you hear me? Let's get you cleaned up alright, I'm going to help, love?" Fred voice finally begins to filter into your ears, his soft and gentle voice finally making sense to you. You can't reply, can't talk at all and so you simply nod.

If you'd been able to see sense in that moment, you'd have been mortified by the number of people staring at you, seeing your misstep. Whispers had begun to fill the shop now of the strange girl but thankfully you'd been spared as Fred guides you away towards the back whilst George cleans up the mess with his magic.

Once you enter the office, so quiet in contrast of the usually bustling shop floor and completely private, you begin to feel the wave of emotions hitting you all at once. You felt sick most of all, your heart still thudding uncomfortably in your chest from what you'd seen. Could it have been real? You feel the overwhelming urge to run upstairs and check on Betty, your protective nature clouding your logic for a moment until you realise that she was safe at the Burrow with Molly. Once your mind began to calm, you then felt the overwhelming urge to cry but you don't, remembering Fred was still with you and you'd embarrassed yourself enough today.

"Here, let me help," Fred says, crouching down beside you. He'd sat you down in his office chair as soon as he'd unlocked the door and had been rifling about in cupboards whilst you'd zoned out.

"Can I?" He asks, his eyes looking up into yours with a softness you'd never really noticed from Fred before. You frown, not knowing what he was asking until his gaze diverts to your hand. There's blood covering your hand and in your lap where it had been resting. Suddenly it all comes to you at once.

"Fred I'm so sorry," you say quickly, moving to stand from the chair. "I broke the bottle didn't I, I need to clear up, I'm."

"Love." The singular word stops you in your tracks.

"It's okay, George will have sorted it all and the shop is the least of my worries right now. No harm done except for you, will you let me fix it?"

You reluctantly nod, beginning to feel the burn of the wound on your hand now that you're aware of the injury, though you can't help but feel guilty about breaking one of his products and disrupting his work.

"What happened?" Fred asks, his eyes peeking up to you as he casts a few spells against your hand, numbing it for you and cleaning it. "If you're ready to talk."

You sigh deeply, feeling the weight of what you thought you'd seen sat so heavily on your chest.

"I thought I saw him."

"Him? The Death Eater?" Fred asks, eyes flicking back to yours. He tries to hide the panic to spare your feelings but fails, his expressive eyes showing his true feelings.

"Yes, well no. At first I thought it was Betty's dad, just the back of his head in the crowd but then it morphed into the death eater. It was like he was right there again, his eyes," you trail off.

You take a few steady breaths, seeing the vision in your mind once again. His dark, hate filled eyes piercing you, the mask obscuring everything else. He didn't even look human, like a veiled monster with a singular predatory instinct. It made the hairs on your neck and arms stand on edge, goosebumps filling the stretch of skin you could see.

"Hey, love, you're okay. You're here with me, he can't hurt you again, or Betty. I'd never let him even get close," Fred says. His finger delicately touched your chin, bringing your eyes to his one more time, the look of conviction in his eyes so strong that you believe him without question.

"I guess," you say quietly.

"I know," he retorts, flashing you his signature grin. You playfully roll your eyes, the little gesture suddenly making you feel remarkably more calm. You risk a glance at your hand, seeing it looking almost perfectly healed already, the tiny shards of glass removed and the blood cleared away.

"You'd make a good nurse Weasley."

"Nurse?" He asks in confusion.

"Healer," you add, correcting yourself. "Same thing I guess, just less magic."

He smiles, putting away his wand. There's a moment that passes where you just don't know what to say, suddenly overcome with a strong, unplaced emotion. You feel a pull towards him, a strong sense of gratitude towards the man that had not only saved you and your daughter from death but also from homelessness and now injury. Nothing would ever convey your thanks to him and George, yet you'd never stop trying.

"Fred," you begin to say, trying to form the right words in your head. He gives you another smirk, raising his eyebrow slightly as if he knows what you're going to say.

"Told you before, you don't have to thank me," he says, reaching out to place his hand upon your leg. You'd never noticed how exceptionally big his hands were, especially in comparison to the size of your leg and very briefly it makes your thoughts run away from you into dangerous territory.

Both of you cringe when his hand touches your leg, the dampness of your clothes from the spilled potion having being forgotten until now. Your legs are positively drenched and even just the momentarily placement of his hand makes the liquid deep out onto your leg from the material of your jeans.

"Take the rest of the afternoon off, I don't want you hurting." You protest, naturally, and though he tries to argue his point you still prevail.

"Light duties then," he compromises. You agree to work on the admin in the office for the rest of the afternoon with the promise that you'd come get him or George at the slightest bit of pain. He reluctantly leaves you after fetching you a spare pair of trousers from the apartment and you settle in to your new task, realising quickly that it would be a rough afternoon for two reasons, firstly your somewhat sore hand and more importantly trying to make sense of Fred's atrocious handwriting. But first, you were going to change your trousers.

After an hour of trying to balance stock logs and sales, you'd taken a quick break to go to the toilet and make yourself a cup of tea. Walking back to the office with your brew in hand, you paused at the top of the corridor to peer down into the shop below. You couldn't see George through the swarm of people but you could make out Verity at the cash register, a floating pile of stock above her head that were self wrapping and bagging as she worked the till with precision. You spotted Fred near the front of the shop, over by the Peruvian instant darkness powder display. He was leaning on the rolling ladder, his arms bulging from his weight as he hung off the ladder to grab a crystal to show through group of customers. His large hand wrapped around the wooden ladder made you think of the way his hand had touched your leg earlier and you felt an undeniable tingle at the memory. His hair was glowing under the shop lights and you thought in that moment how unmistakably attractive he looked.

You scurried away then, willing your thoughts to end there.

You frown upon stepping back into the office, feeling suddenly surrounded by Fred. You turned on the spot in the doorway, expecting him to be right behind you but he wasn't. All you could smell was Fred, consumed and surrounded by his distinctive scent that seemed to fill the entire room. You'd always thought of how nice he smelt in general, a sweet and musky manly scent that seemed eternally autumnal. Only now that you were enveloped within his scent did you realise how comforting it was, how at peace it made you feel. You tried to shake it off, focusing your mind back to the task at hand as you placed your tea down on the desk, kicking the damp trousers you'd changed out of out of the way.

You tried to focus on the admin but every time you paused it felt like your mind was otherwise occupied. Fred entered your mind every time you stopped working, his scent returning to your nose as if he was right there next to you. It was strange to say the least but you tried to push it from your mind, hoping it was just your emotional state from earlier making you cling to whatever comfort you could find. And really, Fred had been a constant comfort in the last month, a knight in shining armour that you'd never anticipated needing. Both he and George had done so much for you and Betty in the short time you'd known them, perhaps that's why you suddenly felt so connected to them. But why were you only smelling Fred?

At 6pm on the dot, Molly arrived through the fireplace with Betty, your little girl no longer afraid of the harmless green flames. By 7pm, Betty had been bathed, teeth brushed and had begun gathering all her stuffed animals ready for their nightly tuck-in session. Each animal, both muggle and magical alike were ceremoniously wished goodnight before being tucked under a blanket in the little wooden crib beside the bed meant for dolls. Except for the stuffed Niffler that Fred had bought her, affectionately named Sniffy, that slept in the main bed with you and her every night without fail.

"I've got this, why don't you go take a bath," Fred says as you clear up the toys from the living room. "I'll read her a story tonight, you should relax."

Any words of protest were instantly rendered moot as the excitable Betty exclaimed her opinion on the matter having been listening by the door.

"Night mummy, love you more than a poffle of Pygmy puffs! Fred, let's go!"

After finishing collecting the toys and putting them away, you walked towards the bathroom ready to run a bath. You pause as you pass your room, or rather Fred's, peeking in the gap of the door seeing the scene inside. Despite everything that had happened today, good and bad, it really had ended on a high.

You smile to yourself, swept up in the moment as you watched Betty snuggle down into bed with Fred perched on the side, a book open in his hands. She giggled as he used silly voices for different characters, the one voice of Babbity Rabbity making her chuckle more than any. He laughed along with her and for a brief moment you almost forgot what you were supposed to be doing, so endeared by the scene you were watching. Or rather, so captivated by Fred in that moment that you could hardly bare to look away.

Had Fred always been this attractive? His blazer discarded and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, long legs crossed at the ankles as he sprawled on the bed beside Betty. His hair was just as vibrant even in the near darkness and his smile seemed to illuminate the room. God it suited him to play the father figure. Had this been what you'd been missing all along?

"How's your hand?" George asks as you place down the bowl filled with garlic bread onto the little table in the corner of the kitchen. Late night meals had become the norm since you'd moved in with the twins, the shop hours dictating your schedule. You'd made spaghetti for you all, Betty having eaten at Molly's and were finally able to sit down and eat together after your bath.

"It's okay thanks, Fred fixed me up good," you say with a smile, twirling the spaghetti around your fork. George makes a little partially concealed noise as he eats and you don't miss the way he suddenly lurches forward in his seat, an obvious sign that he'd been swiftly kicked in the shin under the table.

"Glad you're okay now," George says, grinning through a mouthful of pasta.

"You know it's weird, I swear you've been following me around all day," you say looking at Fred. He gives you a look of confusion in reply. "All I've been able to smell all day is you, your aftershave or something, especially in the office. Constantly just your scent following me around."

George suddenly chokes on his pasta, coughing and spluttering as soon as you finish your sentence. You turn to him in concern but a sip of water sorts him out without intervention, though his face remains red, eyes wide and weirdly amused. You turn to look at Fred, who's equally red in the face without the near death experience and he looks to be in shock, moth slightly agape as he looks at you.

"Ladies come get your Love potions! Yeah they really do work," George says with a beaming smile towards a group of young witches who are instantly drawn to the beautiful display of Wonderwitch products.

"Oh really?" One particularly feisty young witch asks, reminding him of a little of young Ginny. "Prove it."

George smirks, craning his neck ever so slightly until he spots what he's looking for.

"See him over there? Looks remarkably like me but less handsome? Met his wife through the use of a love potion, swear on my life." He grins as they all turn to look at Fred on the stairs who's blissfully unaware of their conversation.

"I don't believe you," one of the other witches says, shaking her head.

"I believe you," you say, smiling as they whip their heads around towards your voice, including your brother in law. They gawp as a small red haired child  no older than six jumps into the arms of the man, screeching his name excitedly, then once again at your rather sizeable baby bump.

"Mum!"

One of the girls steps forward from the group of young witches and you carefully reach out for her considering the size of your belly, pulling her in for a tight squeeze.

"Wait, Betty, this is your uncle?!"

Your daughter, a witch now in her first year of Hogwarts smiles widely and nods. Her magical abilities were discovered not too long after you and Fred became official, a wonderful surprise to you all that seemed like fate.

You suddenly feel a hand placed upon your bump and you turn to see your husband standing beside you, smiling down at you as he caresses your belly, reading out for his unborn twins, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Yeah," Betty says with a firm nod and a beaming smile, reaching for her little brother out of George's arms as he fights to be held by Fred.

"And this is my dad."

[andypantsx3]

TODOROKI SHOUTO : MASTERLIST

please be respectful! do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or otherwise share on other platforms. all my reader characters are fem + afab unless otherwise specified. please see individual fic posts for nsfw ratings and other warnings!

shouto writing tag | universal masterlist

MULTI-CHAPTER

ready or knot (est. 24K) : in progress

Todoroki Shouto is so unsettlingly beautiful, you’re certain he has to be an omega. That is, until a chance encounter with a pushy alpha reveals you were incredibly mistaken—and the surprises don’t stop there. Shouto's suddenly mystifying behavior adds another layer of complexity to an already confusing inter-agency investigation. It would be so much easier to figure things out—and suppress your growing feelings—if only Shouto would stop being so strangely attentive to you...

something in the water (est. 24K) : in progress

As a future marine biologist, you’ve scored big on your final internship: a summer in the tropics, researching the waters off the coast of a lush, sunny island. But what you thought would be all beach days and piña coladas turns out to be the revelation of a lifetime when you haul in a handsome merprince, and discover not everything in these waters is quite as it seems.

fingerprints (38K) : complete

When you’re outed as pro hero Shouto’s soulmate on national television, there are really only two sensible things for you to do: blame someone else and run.

vested interest (19.5K) : complete

You’d just thought Shouto was absent minded, accidentally leaving behind a jacket or a sweater or his vest. You didn’t realize this was a thing. (In which Todoroki Shouto—despite his quirk—has zero chill, and uses his clothes to ward off other men.)

if i could keep cool (20K) : complete

A villain attacks Shouto Todoroki’s apartment and kidnaps what he apparently believes to be Todoroki’s secret lover. The bad news—for both you and the villain in question—is that you’re just there to clean the place. That’s how it starts.

[smutty one shot follow on: say the word and you know i'll follow]

Deceiving the Duke (30K) : complete

When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a lady’s maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.

in cinders (25K) : complete

You’re just trying to fairy godmother your best friend into a happily ever after. If only the prince would stop hanging around and cooperate. (A Cinderella AU)

when i make you mine (24K) : complete In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother, steps in and blows it all to pieces.

conspire (13K) : complete

Shouto Todoroki had definitely only asked you out in order to ward off his horde of interested suitors. So why does he keep actually taking you out on suspiciously realistic dates?

subtle (4.5K) : complete

Someone leaves chocolates on your desk. You’re determined to track down the sender, certain it’s a mistake, and Shouto Todoroki makes himself as unhelpful as possible.

demon prince au (various): ongoing

Things seem to going well with the prince of hell you've accidentally taken home. Until a surprise visitor makes an appearance, and Shouto must take action to stake his claim on you.

ONE SHOTS

mr. tokyo beat hottest hero (3.8K)

Shouto finds out he’s hot. He swiftly uses this knowledge against you.

gravity (6.1K)

Shouto is the handsome, Vulcan chief medical officer of the starship UA, and you its intrepid captain. All Shouto wants is for you to stop getting yourself so grievously injured every time you make port, trying to prove yourself worthy of the ship's command — A Star Trek AU

on ice (2.6K)

Your pro hero boyfriend ices you to the counter and has his way with you.

pretty boy (4.1K)

You have strong feelings about Shouto’s scar. Shouto finds them…surprising.

slip (2.5K) - gn!reader

No one knows who the villain Shouto really is, or what he wants with Endeavor. All you know is that you never should have drawn his notice.

just my (blood) type (5.3K)

The real Halloween treat was how sinfully handsome Todoroki Shouto looked in his vampire costume. But that wouldn’t be enough to save him from the petty wrath of one drunk lobster. (In which you suffer deeply, wingwoman a friend, and pick a fight with the hottest boy at UA.)

loads of fun (2.8K) - gn!reader

After moving into your first apartment together, Shouto seems more amorous than ever. You're not sure why—but when he comes home to you doing a load of laundry, more than your clothes are about to get tumbled.

home, safe, yours (2K) - gn!reader

After a rough day, you take care of your pro hero boyfriend.

happy edgings (1K)

Shouto discovers a new concept and quickly sets about mastering it. You either benefit or suffer, depending on how you look at it.

confetti confessions (2.3K)

A slight misunderstanding at Shouto’s birthday party achieves unexpected results. 

in any universe (1.7K) - gn!reader

Shouto is the prince of an alien species that mates for life—which surely has absolutely nothing to do with you, the little human cadet deployed with the treaty party to his planet.

if you let me (2.2K)

Disguised as a eunuch in the imperial palace, a mistake on your part leads to your unmasking before the prince. By rights it should mean your death, but Prince Shouto seems to have another plan in mind...

balm (2.2K) - gn!reader

You help rub down your boyfriend's muscles after a grueling shift. And then, a little more.

damage (1.6K)

When you get hit by a quirk, Shouto gets protective. Idiocy ensues.

peony for your thoughts (2.1K) - gn!reader

Florist AU: You enter Shouto’s flower shop, and leave with a little bit more than you expected.

say the word and you know i’ll follow (3.3K)

While moving in with Shouto, you get caught up reliving the scene of his confession. Quite literally.

[a smutty one shot sequel to if i could keep cool]

DRABBLES + PROMPT FICLETS

a/b/o au (0.5K)

You think Todoroki Shouto is so pretty he has to be an omega. You quickly find out you are very, very wrong.

dragon au drabble series (various lengths)

You accidentally bring home a dragonling one day. He grows up...possessive.

seven minutes in heaven (1K)

Shouto is unfamiliar with a well-known game.

todobakureader domestic fluff (1K)

The sound of muffled arguing in the kitchen wakes you up on Saturday morning.

turn the heat up (0.7K)

On a lazy afternoon, your boyfriend Shouto is up to no good.

priceless (0.8K)

You get weird around all the expensive things in Shouto's apartment. Shouto shows you what's truly priceless to him.

kabedon (1.7K)

Shouto learns what kabedonning is. You benefit.

wrong address (0.6K)

A mistake leads pro hero Shouto to your door. You promptly embarrass yourself.

attention (0.6K)

“You’re going to regret that, sweetheart.”

melt (1K)

“What? Does that feel good?”

drunk shouto (0.7K)

Shouto gets handsy when he's drunk.

pet names (0.3K)

Shouto figures out you like pet names and sets about abusing his newfound power.

marked up (0.7K)

Shouto goes little shit mode. You (and Class A) suffer.

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

Scrap Writing

Found this fic that I started YEARS ago. More of it was written than I expected. Not sure if I should make something of it. Thoughts?

It took four months to delete his number.

Another week to rid her phone of all his texts.

Chucking her other mementos proved a bit more difficult—that was her stuff, she liked her stuff—but in the end she managed.

There was something so freeing in that approach, all things considered. It was drastic and it was warned against and it made her really sad, purging it all, but she was firm in her convictions. She'd done the research, Marie Kondoed her way to acceptance, detoxed her feelings and all of that shit. Lily figured it was something that she could look back on with pride one day, knowing that she'd handled the thing like an adult. That she'd been healthy. Self-actualised. Or something like it.

It had to hurt at first, was all. That was how she knew it was worth it.

What had she said goodbye to that was worth crying over, really? There had been sullen looks and muttered asides, confusion and dejection and an utter waste of too many hours spent wondering what the hell it was that she had done so wrong, and then there was nothing, and then that was it. A stranger in the place of someone who mattered. It was like he'd woken up one day and decided that he simply fucking despised her, but wouldn't tell her why. Wasn't bothered. When he was supposed to be her best friend.

Whatever. She didn't care.

She wasn't the one who started it.

*

His mum kept asking him why they'd fallen out.

Even three years later. Even then.

She'd ask at random moments, too, tossing the subject into conversations like a stealth bomb dropped from her fist, apropos of nothing that was going on around them at the time. It never worked and never would, and yet she kept on trying all the same. It was like she thought he'd tell her the truth if she could only surprise it out of him. She was wasting her time, and his time alongside it.

It wasn't as if he was furrowing secrets away, James just couldn't tell her why. He didn't know why himself.

Lily had cared about him at some point, he had to suppose. Must have liked him even a little, before everything he did and said and maybe even thought had started to drive her up the wall, before he clearly wasn't good enough for her majesty any longer, before she froze him out and couldn't be arsed explaining, left him with nothing but a folder on his desktop that he'd marked "SCHOOL" so no one would find it.

He'd tried deleting the pictures inside, but that was ultimately pointless. He could help most things but he couldn't quite help that, couldn't stop his mind from going there when his body needed...well.

It didn't matter anyway. He didn't miss her.

Not in a proper way, not for a while.

He wasn't the one who started it.

*

Private WhatsApp Chat

Resumed on: Monday 12th April, 2021, 8:05 a.m.

Members: Beatrice Booth, Lily Evans

================================

Beatrice Booth: Can we go to Hot Numbers before school PLEASE my dad used up ALL of the bagels we had left to make himself lunch for his trip the bastard I mean I love my dad but who the fuck needs three bagels for lunch What am I supposed to do, eat fruit?

Lily Evans: I can't! I'm sorry! I was supposed to finish my gov and politics questions last night but I babysat Noah and he was sick all over himself in bed and stayed up crying the rest of the night, so I have to get in early and finish them in the common room first thing. I'm literally about to leave the house.

Beatrice Booth: When do you have gov and politics

Lily Evans: At 2, but I've got a haircut booked during lunch hour so they have to get done before then.

Beatrice Booth: Just do them during study period

Lily Evans: I can't, study period's off, we've got that life skills thing all week.

Beatrice Booth: Oh fuccccccckkkkk that

Lily Evans: I KNOW

Beatrice Booth: We don't even need a life skills course it's so pointless My dad has life skills and it doesn't stop him from stealing the fucking bagels every morning, why isn't McGonagall up HIS arse

Lily Evans: Because life skills aren't manners babe, soz.

Beatrice Booth: Fine I'll go alone Want me to get you some pancakes?

Lily Evans: Nah it's fine, I had porridge and blueberries after my swim.

Beatrice Booth: The way you're so sensible it's vile

Lily Evans: Cool! Thanks!

*

Sirius Black thrust his hand into the air and didn't wait for McGonagall to give him permission to speak.

"I should be exempt from this," he announced.

Their teacher turned her gaze, sharp-eyed and perceptive, towards his face. "And why is that?"

A brief silence followed as the two adversaries sized each other up across the classroom, and the other students, perhaps, took a moment to do the same. McGonagall was a tall, stately woman of unquestionable intelligence and authority, who could have won awards for the neatness of her chignon, held herself with perfect posture and always smelled faintly of ginger. Black was a pretentious, twiggy-legged poseur who (when he wasn't partnering a duo of morons alongside their token sensible friend) liked to rock a deep necked V and rant passionately about protests that he always seemed too lazy to attend.

He also loved to interrupt classes in a pathetic ploy for attention.

Him and Potter both. Like bloody clockwork.

In the opinion of Lily Evans, at least, the winner of this bout was clearly predetermined.

"Because," said Black. His sullen tone suggested that he still believed he posed a challenge. "I'm aromantic."

"And?"

"And I'm not ever going to get married, am I?" He let his arm flop down by his side and pouted, very prettily, as he was often wont to do. "And I definitely don't want any kids."

For the first time, Lily noticed that he was growing a faint, skinny, bottom-fluff goatee beneath his nose and on his chin.

Bloody prat thought he was Something.

But so many people fancied him. Why? She really didn't know.

"Then this course will likely only strengthen your resolve to refrain from reproducing, for which you will surely be grateful, but in the meantime you'll find that even the aromantics among us need to learn how to manage their bills," replied McGonagall, supremely unconcerned and almost breezy in her swift repudiation. She plucked a small strip of paper from the pestle on her desk and gave it a passing glance before she dropped it on the table. "You're paired with Pettigrew. Go and sit at his desk."

A gentle ripple of giggles moved through the room, and from her vantage point at the whiteboard, where she'd been forced to stand when Remus Lupin was moved into her seat, Lily saw Peter Pettigrew's cheeks burn puce.

"You're putting me with Peter?!" Black spat, disgusted, as if Peter wasn't one of his closest mates.

"Yes, I am. Aren't you lucky that you'll share this experience with a friend?" McGonagall was already on the next strip of paper. She sounded bored. "Stebbins, you'll be paired with—"

"Do I have to move now?"

"—you'll be paired with Marks," McGonagall finished. Valerie Turpin, girlfriend of Stebbins, glared daggers at poor Isabella Marks, who sank down in her seat like she wanted the ground to consume her. "Yes, Black, get up and move."

Black grunted his displeasure, but kicked his school bag backwards and rose gracefully to his feet, muttering curse words at a volume that he clearly meant for McGonagall to hear, and Lily barely refrained from rolling her eyes at his performance.

Potter was sitting beside him, and watched him leave their shared desk with a pained, dramatic grimace, but then, Potter was so obsessed with Sirius that he'd recently convinced his aging parents to adopt him. When Potter had been her best mate, he'd rearranged her crayons in the wrong order and sniffed her arse in the playground, pronouncing it "weird." Sirius Black got his own bedroom and an inheritance.

Then again, she'd sniffed his arse too.

Also, they'd only been five.

And pretending to be dogs.

Also, she really didn't give a shit about Potter or his friends.

Luckily for Lily, her taste in people had markedly improved since the bum-sniffing days of her childhood, which was more than could be said for Pettigrew, whose hands were clenched around his empty Fanta bottle. His round face was screwed up in a sort of silent fury.

In fact, almost everyone in the room seemed to be battling a scowl, except for Beatrice—her newer, shinier, better best friend—who was lounging backwards in her chair, long legs crossed at the ankle and smiling winningly at Remus Lupin, who was perched awkwardly in Lily's chair beside her. Bea was partnered up with Evan McNamee initially, but she managed to turn the tables by announcing that McNamee had recently sent her pictures of his dick on Snapchat, just as McGonagall was drawing a name out of the pestle for Remus. It was a perfectly executed plan: Beatrice used the truth to her advantage in a manner that would have made Machieavelli proud, while McNamee was sent to the back of the classroom—and partnered with Terry Heaney—in utter disgrace.

"Pinkstone," their teacher continued. "You're with Patel."

Black, meanwhile, deflated into the chair next to Pettigrew and elbowed him hard in the ribs.

Potter twisted around in his seat to mutter words of encouragement to Sirius, no doubt plagued by instant separation anxiety.

Isabella Marks was sinking closer and closer to the floor.

Everyone was reacting ridiculously to this course, Lily concluded. They were being split into pairs of "spouses" to learn about budgets and meal planning for a week, that was all, but her peers were moving between desks like they were being marched off to an eternal winter of strife. They weren't being forced to kiss and hold hands, weren't being indoctrinated into an organ-harvesting cult, this wasn't Riverdale, for Christ's sake, and Lily couldn't think of a reason why she should bitch and moan about it. Not unless she was unfortunate enough to be paired with some clown who intended to doss around and contribute nothing to the project, which would massively piss her off. Someone like Black, she supposed, or like— 

"Potter?" McGonagall's clear, clipped voice finished Lily's thought for her.

James Potter whipped around in his seat with an ungainly clatter. "Yeah?"

"You're with Evans," McGonagall finished, waving her strip of paper in the air.

Potter's thick, dark eyebrows shot up in a flash, and Lily sensed, rather than saw, her best friend stifle a laugh.

Well, fuck it all, she thought.

*

"So do you want my number or something?" Evans asked him.

It was weird.

The offer came out of nowhere. One minute she was staring straight ahead, pretending he didn't exist as she normally did, and the next, McGonagall had finished her briefing and Evans was swivelling towards James in her seat, fixing him with a stony stare that appealed just as much as it annoyed him. She sounded antsy about offering up her number, unhappy, like she could feel a bug crawling around on the back of her neck and was fighting with all she had in her to remain there, stiff and composed and determined to be the bigger, better person in all of this.

Typical Evans.

Always had to one-up everyone.

She'd been a laugh, once upon a time, before a wicked spell turned her into an anal-retentive maiden aunt who thought that everything he'd ever said or done was stupid and pointless, not to mention the worst choice of partner that he could possibly have been saddled with for this project. He was essentially in for a week of watching her roll her eyes at his every unworthy suggestion.

Yet James had wanked over a picture of her merely six, no, seven hours earlier.

Weird might have been an understatement.

"Eh," he said. He'd never gotten round to deleting her number, though it was plain from her tone that she'd deleted his. "I'll just give you mine."

She unlocked her phone with a swipe of her thumb and held it out, letting it slide to the table from her outstretched palm like water.

"Put it in yourself, if you like," she advised, turning to face the front of the room.

Her lack of regard for him could not have been more pointed and James nearly said something about it—whatever he had done to piss her off, she didn't have to be so fucking rude—but her phone was likely to lock itself again at any second, and she had an uncanny ability to incite a nagging guilt in his stomach just by looking in his direction.

Even though he was certain, fairly certain, that he hadn't done anything wrong.

Except for the periodic wanking, but she didn't know about that. If he happened to feel ashamed of himself when the time came to clean up his mess, that stayed between James and his laptop.

Stewing in his own resentment, he picked up her phone, opened her contacts and created a new entry.

"I'll text you later and we can sort out how we're doing this," she told him when he handed it back, studying the mock budget printout that had been given to them as part of their life skills pack. Their homework for the evening was to find a place to "live" and agree on their own budget based on their monthly salaries. McGonagall was moving about the room, holding out career cards for students to pick from her hand at random. "We can't do it at school, I'm crazy busy all day."

"Fine," he said. It came out sounding like a retort. "I've got nothing after school on Mondays."

"Fine."

"Fine."

That made her glance up from her printout, her pretty emerald greens flicking directly to his face, lips briefly pursed in disapproval.

"Really?" she asked him, setting her paper down on the desk. "Can we please just not?"

She had a little colour in her freckled cheeks, a rosy sort of pink, chin tilted up as if in challenge, dark red hair framing her face in soft and silky waves. The deceptively delicate face of a terrifying, iron-willed woman. It always made James shrink a little, when she looked at him like that, like she was calling him on some bullshit that was bouncing around in his head. Evans was magnetic in a way that he had given up trying to get past.

His bullshit wasn't for her to call him on, though. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

"Can we just not what?" he replied, smiling without teeth.

"Spend the week acting like passive-aggressive pricks?"

"You'd rather be straight-up aggressive?"

"Ooh, good one," she said, aridly dismissive. "Congrats on discovering humour."

"One of us had to discover it first."

He could almost see the cogs turning in her brain while she considered whatever retort had popped into her head—Evans was never lost for words when James most needed her to flounder—but she must have felt it beneath her because it didn't make it out of her mouth. Instead, she eased a breath in through her nose, released it and calmly returned to her printout—a move that, despite her silence, succeeded in making him feel about as embarrassed and insignificant as a toddler who had shit his pants in public.

Which might actually have been the retort she wanted, now that he thought of it.

It was the longest conversation he had shared with her in three years.

*

Private WhatsApp Chat

Started on: Monday 12th April, 2021, 4:34 p.m.

Members: Lily Evans, James Potter

================================

Lily Evans: So how are we doing this, then? Should you come over here or should I go over there or what?

James Potter: oh right

Lily Evans: This is Lily, by the way.

James Potter: yeah hi this is james which you know obviously because i gave you my number and you're texting me now

Lily Evans: Super great start to this marriage, isn't it?

James Potter: dunno what you mean clearly i'm thrilled about this

Lily Evans: Yeah I'm soooo incredibly  excited for the high octane thrills of real estate and budget spreadsheets.

James Potter: i'll have you know that i love making spreadsheets in excel or its bastard brother, google sheets

Lily Evans: Erm. Okay? Can we figure out where one of us is going now?

James Potter: do you want to come over here? i told mum and she says she'll order us pizza if you haven't eaten

Lily Evans: Sure. I haven't eaten since noon so I could go for a pizza.

James Potter: cool pepperoni and mushroom alright?

Lily Evans: Yeah. I just have to finish my chores first so I can be there at 5:30 if that's okay?

James Potter: yeah that's fine, i'll ask mum to order it at quarter past you know we moved house, right?

Lily Evans: Yes I do, where am I going?

James Potter: do you know how to get to bentley road?

Lily Evans: Yeah, I'm a 20 minute walk away.

James Potter: right, so my house is a bit hard to find if you don't know it if you walk round i'll meet you on the corner across from the golf course

Lily Evans: Cool. See you in a bit.

James Potter: see you in a bit

*

Private WhatsApp Chat

Resumed on: Monday 12th April, 2021, 4:41 p.m.

Members: Remus Lupin, James Potter

================================

James Potter: i'm a fucking CLOWN

Remus Lupin: Yes, I know.

James Potter: you KNOW?

Remus Lupin: You didn't?

James Potter: no but listen i don't have time for this i've done something bad something

Remus Lupin: Done what?

James Potter: told a stupid lie

Remus Lupin: ?

James Potter: look never mind what it was all i need is for you to teach me the full functionality of microsoft excel in the next half hour

Remus Lupin: No.

James Potter: ffs remus WHY ARE WE EVEN FRIENDS

*

Private WhatsApp Chat

Resumed on: Monday 12th April, 2021, 7:22 p.m.

Members: Beatrice Booth, Lily Evans

================================

Lily Evans: Potter has a SWIMMING POOL in his new house?! A fucking swimming pool! His mum gave me the tour and she was like "And this is the pool" like she was showing me her new plant or something, like a swimming pool is just a normal thing for someone to have chilling in their conservatory IN ENGLAND?

Beatrice Booth: Omg Like a proper swimming pool? Not an inflatable one?

Lily Evans: A PROPER SWIMMING POOL SET INTO THE GROUND WITH LADDERS AND A DEEP END AND A GIANT INFLATABLE RODEO BULL FLOATING IN THE MIDDLE LIKE IT'S PART OF THE FUCKING FAMILY

Beatrice Booth: OMG But how sexy is the pool Olympic size or smaller?

Lily Evans: It's VERY BIG And they have a hot tub A HOT TUB

Beatrice Booth: OMG ask to use it seduce him for lols

Lily Evans: NO

Beatrice Booth: WHY NOT? Oh, right, because the bull might be watching

Lily Evans: What is WRONG with you? Honestly.

Beatrice Booth: You and Potter are married now, you are basically as much a part of his family as the inflatable rodeo bull so I don't see the problem in you using the hot tub and more importantly in ME using it also

Lily Evans: It's Graham, and you are obviously deluded.

Beatrice Booth: Who the fuck is Graham

Lily Evans: Graham is the bull.

Beatrice Booth: Graham is INFLATABLE

Lily Evans: I'm putting my phone down now.

Beatrice Booth: Ask him if I can use the hot tub!

Lily Evans: NO

Beatrice Booth: FFS Lily WHY ARE WE EVEN FRIENDS

*

EVANS-POTTER HOUSEHOLD BUDGET

Combined Monthly Income (NET): £3087

Rent: £1500 Council Tax: £186.64 (Band D)

TV/Internet: £86.99 (Virgin Media, Broadband and Television package) TV Licence: £13.37

Water: £33 (Approx - Anglian Water Usage Calculator) Electricity/Gas: £82 (Ovo Green Tariff)

Groceries: £300 Groceries (for James's cat): £80

Student Loans: £0.00 (income threshold not high enough)

Car Payments: £112.93 (2015 Citeron C1 Flair - Marshall Car Centre) Car Insurance: £30.93 Car Tax: £0.00 (included in dealership cost) Petrol: Max £60 (fuel cost calculator)

Netflix: £13.99 Amazon Prime: £7.99 Gym: £60 (x2 PureGym memberships)

Device Cost: £40.68 (x2 iPhone 11) Tariff Cost: £80.78 (x2 O2 tariffs)

Savings: £300

Total Projected Cost: £2989.30 Projected Balance: £87.70

Tuesday

Private WhatsApp Chat

Resumed on: Tuesday 13th April, 2021, 8:20 a.m.

Members: Lily Evans, James Potter

================================

Lily Evans: Hey. Morning. Listen I just can't get over the cat groceries thing. I think we should change it before we hand it in to McGonagall, she's going to think we're taking the piss.

James Potter: oh THIS again

Lily Evans: It's just such an unnecessary amount of money to spend on cat food.

James Potter: AND cat litter too you forgot cat litter so we can't spend £50 a month on the cat but £60 for the gym is ok?

Lily Evans: You're the one who was all, well if you're going to the gym I'M going to the gym.

James Potter: couples are SUPPOSED to do things together evans it's a cornerstone of every good marriage and is it SO hard to believe that i too like to keep fit?

Lily Evans: Obviously it isn't, you goon. And quite frankly, the only reason he's eating Purina One is because you're GIVING him Purina One in the misguided belief that he won't degrade himself by eating anything else.

James Potter: algernon wants the best

Lily Evans: "Most expensive" does not necessarily mean "best" when you're buying groceries.

James Potter: so you're saying you'd drink supermarket brand cola instead of real coke?

Lily Evans: Of course I bloody wouldn't I don't hate myself.

James Potter: well then!

Lily Evans: We're not even going to be able to get Purina One in Aldi.

James Potter: so we'll stop in waitrose after

Lily Evans: WAITROSE

James Potter: what's wrong with waitrose???

Lily Evans: We have £75 FOR THE WEEK

James Potter: plus £20 for the cat what's the issue i have never been to an aldi you know sounds like an adventure

Lily Evans: I have to get to school, we can discuss it in life skills.

James Potter: oh that's right! do what you always do when we argue! the old "i have to get to school" excuse again!

Lily Evans: LOL I'll see you later

James Potter: yeah see you later mate

*

Private WhatsApp Chat

Resumed on: Tuesday 13th April, 2021, 8:27 a.m.

Members: Beatrice Booth, Lily Evans

================================

Lily Evans: Why does it BOTHER me that we were texting and he called me "mate"???? We haven't been friends for years, he can't just mate me while I'm not looking.

Beatrice Booth: That is not the reason why you are bothered you know the reason but I'm not telling you I've got shit to do this morning one of my nails broke think of that

Lily Evans: So I help you with your English Lit homework, you DON'T help me with my personal problems and this is how this friendship works, is it?

Beatrice Booth: I can't find my emery board can you bring one in with you?

Lily Evans: Oh go and choke on it

Beatrice Booth: K!

*

Wednesday

Private WhatsApp Chat

Resumed on: Wednesday 13th April, 2021, 6:36 a.m.

Members: Lily Evans, James Potter

================================

James Potter: what did you do to algernon?!!!!!

Lily Evans: What? Good morning to you too?

James Potter: he's refusing to eat this bloody vitacat stuff again! he's turning his nose up at it and he's LOOKING at me like i have failed him as a father AND as a man, know what you have done to this family please

Lily Evans: He's not turning his nose up at it. I literally watched him stick his face in the bowl and eat the whole thing in about ten seconds last night.

James Potter: i mean of course i've failed him i'm a fucking FRENCH teacher which mcgonagall definitely assigned me on purpose well he's not eating it NOW! you must have coaxed him into it last night with your feminine wiles

Lily Evans: You think I have feminine wiles?

James Potter: well i don't know i misspoke mistyped whatever you're both ginger, that clearly has something to do with it what if he starves to death what will i do

Lily Evans: He'll eat when he's hungry.

James Potter: i think you're being really unfeeling about this crisis that is very important to me and that is not conducive to a healthy marriage and i will be raising this with mcgonagall today

Lily Evans: It's half past six in the morning and I'm freezing in the back of my mum's car, I'll turn my feelings on once I've properly woken up.

James Potter: what are you doing awake and freezing in your mum's car at half past six are you still swimming in the mornings?

Lily Evans: What are YOU doing awake at half past six in the morning?

James Potter: planning my cat's imminent funeral, from the looks of things!

Lily Evans: Oh my god Potter GO BACK TO SLEEP

[soireegurl]

i have this idea for a fic but i cant write, lol so im dropping it in your ask box cause youre like the best yandere writer i know on here so here it is:

you running away from yandere!heeseung when you had the chance, then you encountered a nice guy (i imagine to probably be sunghoon) and then you tell him all bout you running away, heeseung, all that stuff. butttt here's the twist.. hoon has been stalking you for a looong time so yeah kind of like reader got away from a yandere just to end up with another yandere 💥

Omggg thank you for writing in! I'm so glad to hear that from you 😊 here it is sorry for the long wait! Hope you like it!

You’d been running for days, constantly looking over your shoulder, heart pounding. Heeseung, with his unsettling gaze and obsessive demeanor, was always one step behind. It was terrifying, knowing that someone so fixated was out to find you.

His words and actions are no doubt trauma for you.

It started all nice and romantic, Heeseung was the sweetest guy you've ever met and no doubt, you have fallen in love with this beautiful man. But things started to get handy.

Ever since you guys officially got together, he has been possessive. Like to an extreme amount.

To the point where you felt suffocated and scared. You tried to talk to him about it but he always turned to the same behaviour.

You couldn't take it anymore and decided to break up with him... Which obviously didn't turn out well.

"Heeseung... I... I'm sorry. I... Let's break up."

You said not looking at him. You didn't want to see any of that madness in his eyes.

"Baby... Was that a joke? Or..."

His tone wasn't warm.... It was cold. As if, if you said "no" the next second, he would tear you into pieces.

But you can't let fear over take you.

"No. I'm serious Heeseung. I want to break up with you."

And there... Boom!

You ended up in his basement for 3 weeks.

For 3 weeks, you have been trying to run. Of course failing almost every time.

But that day... You finally got out of his grip.

Then, amidst your frantic escape, you stumbled upon someone who seemed like a beacon of calm.

Sunghoon, with his warm smile and kind eyes, offered you a moment of respite.

You poured your heart out, telling him everything: how you’d been fleeing from Heeseung, how his intense obsession made your life a nightmare.

Sunghoon listened patiently, offering comforting words and seeming genuinely concerned. You felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe you’d finally found safety.

"I'm sorry to hear that Y/n... I'm here now... I will take care of you..."

But as the days went on, you began to notice little things. Sunghoon was always there, just when you needed him. It seemed like he had an uncanny ability to show up at the right place and time.

"Oh? Sunghoon? What are you doing in my house?"

"Here! I bought you some chocolate. I thought you might need this right now."

"Oh my god that's so sweet of you... How did you know that I am in desperate need of this right now?"

You smiled and took the chocolate from his hand.

"Every time you fail a test, you always get chocolates to cheer yourself up, don't you?"

He said with a proud smile.

But... You have never told him that... And you never told him that you failed your most recent test...

So... How does he know?

But at that time, you were too innocent to even notice this was odd.

Eventually, a year later, you and Sunghoon got into a relationship.

One evening, as you were looking through Sunghoon's phone, as your phone ran out of battery and you desperately needed a phone to do some research.

Curiousity got into you and somehow, you decided to open up Sunghoon's gallery.

you came across something unsettling. A series of photos you didn’t remember taking.

They showed you in various locations, from moments of vulnerability to everyday scenes.

Your heart sank as you realized these were taken by Sunghoon.

Confronting him, you saw a shift in his demeanor. His warm smile faded, replaced by a more intense, calculating gaze.

You sensed danger. Your body is telling you to run, and of course, you followed what your body told you to do.

You ran for your life.

Why have you never noticed anything?

“You didn’t think you’d escape that easily, did you?” he whispered next to your ears and he caught up to you.

"I didn't plan all this just to let you escape..."

He said and smirked.

"What... What do you mean?"

"You know... I could have just given you a backup phone... I'm not that stupid Y/n.."

"I want you to know how much I love you... And you should love me as much too..."

The realization hit hard. You had run from one yandere, only to fall into the grasp of another.

Sunghoon’s obsession, hidden behind a facade of kindness, was just as consuming.

The cycle of escape and obsession seemed never-ending, leaving you to confront the stark reality of your situation.

[astrolynnworld]

Can I have a Chris fluff where he lifts the readers bump?

baby bump

pairings: chris x reader

summary: your back has been killing your active pregnancy. chris does whatever he can to relive that ache

warnings: fluff, pregnancy, sad thoughts, reassurance, comfort, love

a/n: in this fic, you and chris are already married

word count: 662

it’s been almost 8 months since i found out that chris & i were having a baby girl.

i wanted to do the whole gender reveal theatrics but chris and i both agreed that we did not want to wait.

when we revealed the pregnancy to our family and friends, it was like endless masses of support.

everyone congratulated us, gave us money, sent gifts, and offered endless hours of help.

there are still gifts coming into this day.

although the pregnancy is starting to overwhelm me.

The cravings, the nausea, the headaches, and the pain that finds itself everywhere, especially my back.

it’s so hard for me to do the tasks that I once enjoyed.

I feel bad for chris because a once active wife had probably just become a burden to him.

I hated this thought, but I was left with no other choice when I would see Chris pick up everything that I used to do.

he was switched to start working at home so he could take care of me, our baby, and our home.

tonight I thought I would surprise him by making dinner to reward him for all his generosity and support with our new lifestyle that I was trying to adjusted too.

he had went to the store to go pick up a few items for the house that we have been needing, so i took this moment as an opportunity.

half an hour into cooking, my back starts to ache really badly. i decide to sit because i realize that i had been standing for a while

I take a five minute break, but this does not stop the ache.

I get back up to finish dinner since i had only had a few more steps left to complete in the recipe.

but, as im finishing up i hear keys start to unlock the door along with bags tussling as footsteps enter the house.

“babe?” chris calls out

“im in the kitchen” i respond

he follows the sound of my voice

“babe what are you doing? you’re supposed to be resting.” his voice says laced with concern

“i just wanted to surprise you with someone special. you’ve been doing a lot for me and i want to show you my gratitude” i say back in a soft tone

“baby.. you’re pregnant with our kid right now. do you really think you’re the one that needs to be showing gratitude to me?” he asks with a soft smirk

i smile at his rhetorical question

“i will never be able to show you enough gratitude for how much you mean to me and how lucky i am that you stick beside me everyday” he says while wrapping his hands around my back to give me a tight hug

i coo at the added pressure

“im sorry, did that hurt?” he asks with concern

“no, you’re fine. my back has just been aching all day.” i complain

“can i try something?” he asks

i nod my head yes with a bit of confusion.

he gently puts his hands under my belly and lifts its slowly.

the released pressure on my back and pelvis felt like heaven.

i drop my head on his shoulder as a sign of relief.

“i did not know about this relief tactic” i state with shock laced in my tone

“yeah. i did my research about the do’s and don’t’s with a pregnancy wife!” chris replies

i laugh at his humor

“i love you so much christopher.” i say as i lift my head up and look into his eyes

“i love you so much much y/n” he responds back.

he bends his head down to give me a kiss on the lips.

“now lets turn off this stove and get you into bed. you did enough for tonight.” he says while switching off the stove letting the, now cooked, food shimmer down.

he grabs my hand and guides me back to our bedroom.

———————————————————————

a/n: this was so cute to write, i loved it! hope you guys love as well

[oacest]

oacest scholars, do you have any gcest fic recs for a beginner?

we decided to answer this in brief and limit ourselves to three recs each or, as evidenced by past failures to answer this same simple and straightforward request from other people, we'd spend forever quibbling about our choices and never actually post the dang thing. here, in no particular order, are some good jumping off points:

trill's recs:

1) @snickfic's baby, you're gonna be the one that saves me, aka my fave fic (technically series, it's got two parts) in this entire fandom. in which liam gets knocked up in the mid 90s by someone who's not noel, to noel's intense anguished jealous heartbreak mild dismay. even if you're not really into mpreg this one is well worth it. the characterization is god tier. bal and i insisted that jackie, who staunchly doesn't like mpreg, read it and even she was converted.

2) i could be your lover, you could be all mine, by hapaxlegomena. a collection of unconnected porn ficlets. lots of extremely tasty stuff in here, i reread random bits of it regularly.

3) the D'YA WANT SOME? series by one of our own triumvirate, bal! im sure she's squirming in horror that im including it but it is by far the best, most well-written, most well-characterized, thoughtful, hilarious, hot, fascinating work in this whole fandom imo, and is a perfect intro to the whole concept of pre/early days oasis and what noel+liam might have been getting up to behind the scenes (as it were) before they were famous.

bal's recs:

1) Filmstar, an orphaned fic on Ao3. This one gets recced plenty but for good reason. It's very funny in a deadpan way and the Liam in it is such a perfect little weirdo. It's a great fic to start with, readable even if you don't know all the lore and whatnot.

2) outta sight and outta mind by lustmord. this author writes Trauma and specifically the brothers' trauma in a way I find endlessly compelling. (for all that Everyone Knows about their shitbag dad, it is still such an unspoken and often unpredictable presence in the room; you can't really get into them without tangoing with it in some fashion)

3) Let Me Be The One, by @savageandwise. absolutely fantastic Liam voice, this author just GETS him. I often think about this quote as a literal thesis statement for Noel's whole insane deal:

You think he's perfectly willing to allude to it in public if he's the one pulling the strings. Cause he thinks he's cleverer than the rest of the world. He thinks it's edgy and rock and roll when he does it. It's his brand of anarchy. And when you do it you're just stupid and embarrassing and determined to destroy everything.

jackie's recs:

1) Trying To Find A World That's Been and Gone by @storyshark2005. my colleagues graciously let me be the one to put it on my list because this is Thee fic. as we were all getting into Oasis initially, this fic was our constant companion and teacher, holding our hand as the fixation unraveled within us. it's a present-day fic that beautifully and masterfully unpacks the entirety of their relationship from the glory days to the estrangement and it is so jam-packed with research and details, you can just assume that everything that's being referenced is based on something that actually happened. in my opinion, this is where any new fan should start.

2) If I Had a Gun by @savageandwise. it's probably cheating to put another fic by this author when bal's already done it, but... I don't care lmao. in many ways we're splitting hairs because all this author's fics are worth your time. but I do hold a special place for this one because it so wonderfully captures the tenuousness of their dynamic at any given moment. how they could go from fighting to flirting to hating each other to needing each other in rapid succession. it feels so true.

3) Here's Looking At You, Kid by RedheadAmongWolves. don't be thrown off by the fact that this is one chapter away from completion, it's still totally worth it. the characterizations are great, the vibes draw you in, the UST is delicious. honestly, this is really meant to function as an overall author rec. there were several here I could've chosen. [ETA: this fic is now complete!]

[honey-tongued-devil]

I hate the latest episode... Now I'm stuck with silco on the brain

Imagine being a piltie that was doing research that required raw materials from zaun

Going to the bar to collect info, vander figures out that you're not from the lanes and asking silco to keep an eye on you

You can feel silco tailing you but you can't catch him. Eventually you tell him it's better to keep an eye out on you in person rather than remaining hidden... Feels like being part of a horror movie.

Overtime you and silco get along, you tell him about your research, you eventually get to know vander and Felicia as friends as well.

You get busy with your project so you don't come as often but still write some letters every now and then.

One day the letters stop and you never come back.

Cue the plot of arcane-

It isn't until silco starts gaining control over the undercity that he notices some pilties wearing/using the object you put all your research into.

What happened to you?

Turns out your research is being sold under the name of a man, a man that you were married off to, silco learns.

No one has seen you publically in over a decade.

It appears your family has sold off your research to someone rich in exchange for a wealthier life.

The agreement you have with your 'husband' is that as long as you continue to publish things under his name he won't try to be in a relationship with you, sexual or romantic.

Under Normal circumstances any potential relationship with silco would be long forgotten, but what happens when the shipment problems around the hexgates start affecting your husbands business? What happens when you decide to investigate it for yourself as an excuse to leave the house? What happens when you're kidnapped and brought before a man you haven't stopped thinking about ever since you were in your early 20s?

Sorry I just wanted to leave this here because I'm too much of a coward to actually write a full fic🫥

I’ll tell you the truth, my little friend—just days before, I was banging my head against the wall because I wanted an idea for a long fic with Silco. Then one morning, I woke up to your request, and even though it wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, it gave me the foundation to start writing the first story (which, as of now, only has the first four pages of the introduction and is set in the mines).

However, a week later, Episode 7 came out, and I found divine inspiration, so I started another one called “Everytime It Rains.”

That said, I have to thank you because your request was what made me decide it was time to finally start working on the long fic with Silco.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

hello!! so i know ive never sent in an ask/request but.. ive been following you for a while and i love your writing style!! so i was wondering if youd be comfortable writing something where the mc/reader has tourettes syndrome? as someone who has tics it makes me lowkey sad that i never see any fics that represent that :/ (i think ive maybe read one..) so if youre comfortable with this sort of thing i have 2 scenarios that i was thinking of!!

texts with fem!reader where maybe a friend was trying to set a skz member and reader on a date and reader gets insecure thinking that he might not like her cause of her tics or think its weird? a little angst moment w a happy ending ofc :p

or headcanons/drabble of how you think a skz member(s) would be with an s/o that has tics? how they would handle tic attacks and such yk?

these are just suggestions ofc if you decide to do a reader w tics feel free to do whatever you feel like!! also i have no specific member i prefer just do whoever you see fit! or even ot8 :o

this was longer than i wanted it to be.. im so sorry :(… i love you tho and hope u have a great day/night!

(stay hydrated, you matter <3)

when i got this rec i immediately started working on it, because i think its important for people to know that they are seen. and if through one of my works i could help someone feel seen and cared for than thats what i want to do! in all honesty, i had to do a little research to better understand how to do my best to accurately represent TS; and i know it isn't perfect, but i hope it can at least be enough :) i hope you don't mind I kind of merged both of your ideas, since it came to my mind when i read through this request, and i think its a fun and wholesome way of showcasing this beautiful part about you. i know it must be extremley hard dealing with tourettes, as i've seen it in others lives, and it sometimes might be seen as a hinderance- but you were made this way with purpose, and i don't think that tourettes or anything of the sort should be seen as something ugly- but rather something that shaoes you and makes you you. i know that might seem cliche, but i beleive that differences are what what make people beautiful and i hope with these fics that shines thorugh <3 enjoy!!!

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When Their Blind Date Has Tourettes Syndrome | 3Racha

Tourette Syndrome (TS) is a neurological disorder characterized by repetitive, involuntary movements and vocalizations known as tics. These tics can be motor (such as blinking, head jerking, or facial grimaces) or vocal (such as grunting, throat clearing, or involuntary words or phrases). The severity and frequency of tics can vary greatly from person to person. TS often begins in childhood, and while symptoms can improve with age, they may persist into adulthood. The exact cause is unknown, but genetics and environmental factors are believed to play a role. The condition can often accompanied by other issues like ADHD or OCD.

Warnings: cursing

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Chan

The café was quiet, the kind of serene setting perfect for a blind date. But you couldn’t fully enjoy it- not with your nerves tangled like this.

When Chan arrived, his easy smile and warm energy made it a little easier to breathe, though the thought of what could go wrong lingered at the back of your mind.

He approached with a casual wave, his hoodie slightly oversized, making him look more approachable than you’d expected. “Y/N?” he asked, his Australian accent soft and cozy.

“That’s me,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt.

“And I’m Chan,” he introduced himself, sliding into the seat across from you. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Yeah, same.” You smiled, tugging at the sleeve of your sweater.

The conversation started smoothly, easing into topics about work, hobbies, and mutual friends who had set you two up. But as your tics began surfacing- little jerks of your head, accompanied by muttered syllables- you noticed Chan’s gaze shift slightly. It wasn’t discomfort or judgment, though; it was curiosity, an openness that surprised you.

When a loud, unexpected swear escaped your lips- "Fuck! Shit!"- the words hanging awkwardly between you, your stomach dropped. The moment you’d dreaded was here. You braced yourself, heart racing.

“I…I should explain,” you started, your words hurried. “I have Tourette’s, and- uh - its the coprolalia kind." You laughed nervously. "It’s not all the time, but sometimes - goddammit - I just…swear. I promise I’m not trying to - fucking asshole - be rude or anything. I'm just involuntarily profane on occasion." You finshed with a click of your tongue.

Chan’s eyes softened, his brow furrowing slightly. “Y/N,” he said, his tone light, “you don’t need to apologize. Like you said, it’s not something you can control.”

“I just- I know it can be a lot,” you admitted, your voice wavering. “And I don’t want to mess this up, but…this is part of me, and I can’t always- ” Another tic interrupted you, louder this time. “Fucking hell!” The words burst out, and you winced, unable to stop yourself. “I already really like you,” you confessed in a rush, voice quieter now, “But if this is too much…”

Chan reached out across the table, his hand brushing yours gently. “Hey, Y/N, look at me.” His voice was soft but firm, grounding you. “It’s not too much, okay? You’re amazing, and this doesn’t change that.”

“But what if it gets worse?” you asked, the fear evident in your tone.

He smiled, leaning back in his chair. “Then I guess I’ll have to work on not laughing when you curse better than I do.” He commented, his dimple visible. He tilted his head playfully. “I mean, you’ve already got me beat. I can’t even cuss in my songs unless it’s wordplay.”

Despite yourself, a surprised laugh escaped your lips. The tension eased just a little, the weight of the moment lifting as you realized he wasn’t just accepting- he was embracing this part of you.

The rest of the date was easier after that. You talked about your favorite shows, your shared love of music, and even a bit about his work. But later, as you both stood at the café counter to pay, things took a turn.

A customer bumped into you, and you immediately spun to apologize.

“Oh I'm so- Asshole! Sorry, fuck!” The words tumbled out in quick succession, your face paling as the man turned to glare at you.

“What did you just say to me?” he demanded, his voice rising.

“I- I didn’t mean to!” you stammered, panic setting in as another tic followed. “Shut up! Oh my god, bitch fuck!”

“Are you kidding me?” The man stepped closer, anger flashing in his eyes.

Before you could respond, Chan was at your side, his presence a solid wall of protection. “Hey, back off,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She has Tourette’s. She didn’t mean it.”

The man scoffed. “Right, sure.”

Chan squared his shoulders, his expression calm but unyielding. “You heard me. She can’t control it. Now, do you want to keep making a scene, or are you going to walk away?”

After a moment of tense silence, the man muttered something under his breath and turned away. Chan stayed by your side, his hand brushing the small of your back as he looked at you. “You okay?”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you nodded, feeling both overwhelmed and touched by his defense. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t be.” He smiled softly, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “You don’t have to apologize for being you, Y/N.”

As you left the café together, the cool night air brushed against your face, but it didn’t feel as sharp as it had earlier. Not with Chan walking beside you, his presence steady and comforting. You looked at him, your heart full, and wondered if this was what it felt like to be truly understood.

“You know,” Chan said, breaking the silence with a teasing grin, “If I ever need someone for creative adlibs, I think you’ve got a solid resume.”

You burst into laughter, the sound blending with the night, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like it was okay to just be you.

As you walked side by side down the quiet street, the tension from earlier melted away into a comfortable silence. Chan glanced at you, the way the faint glow of the streetlights caught in your hair and softened the nervous creases in your expression. He felt a quiet sense of awe settle in his chest, like he’d stumbled upon something rare and precious without even realizing it.

You were real- messy and raw and unapologetically yourself in ways that left him both grounded and inspired. He admired the way you carried the weight of your tics with grace, even when the world pushed back harder than it should. And now, as your laughter from his earlier joke faded into the stillness, he realized something else: he didn’t want this to be a fleeting moment or a passing chapter.

Chan could see it- a future where he was by your side, learning every part of what made you you. A future where he’d be the one to hold your hand during hard days and celebrate the victories that came your way. The thought both terrified and thrilled him, but as he glanced down at you, your soft smile easing the ache of your earlier tears, he couldn’t imagine wanting anything else.

"Y/N," he said softly, his voice breaking through the quiet. "Thanks for letting me see this side of you tonight. I mean it- it makes me want to stick around."

You looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone, but the warmth in his gaze left no room for doubt. And as you continued walking together into the night, your heart felt just a little lighter, the first stirrings of something new and hopeful beginning to take root.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Changbin

Changbin had been skeptical about the blind date from the start. His friends had teased him relentlessly, insisting he needed to “put himself out there,” and while he’d grumbled about it, here he was. Standing in line at the movie theater, his phone buzzed with a quick text confirming you’d arrived.

When his eyes met yours across the crowded lobby, his breath caught. You were standing near the concessions, shifting nervously on your feet as you looked around. There was something endearingly hesitant about the way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, like you were steeling yourself.

"Hi," you greeted softly when he approached, offering a shy smile. Your voice was gentle but warm, and it immediately put him at ease.

“Hey,” he replied, his grin spreading easily. “You must be Y/N.”

As you nodded, a quick, staccato whistle broke through the air- a sound you made involuntarily. It was followed by a soft “meow” and an apologetic wince on your part.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, your gaze darting to his face as if bracing for judgment.

Changbin tilted his head slightly, his expression curious but kind. “Did you just...meow?” A musical sound lilted amusingly at the end of his sentence.

Your cheeks flushed. “I- um- I have Tourette’s,” you explained in a rush, your words tumbling over each other. “I can’t always control my tics, and sometimes they’re, uh…kind of random. Like the meowing. Or…” You paused as another whistle slipped out, followed by a faint, high-pitched “boo!”

For a moment, he just blinked at you, then broke into a wide smile. “In all honesty...that’s kind of adorable. You’re like a sound effects board.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, caught off guard by his response. “You don’t think it’s… weird?”

He shrugged, his gaze warm and steady. “Everyone’s got their quirks. Yours just happen to make you sound like a cartoon character, and honestly, I think that’s awesome.”

Relief flooded your features, and your shoulders relaxed slightly. “Most people don’t really see it that way.”

“Well, most people are missing out.” He shot you a playful wink, and when you laughed, the tension in the air dissolved.

The two of you fell into an easy rhythm as you moved through the line, chatting about everything from favorite movies to your shared love of snacks. Changbin couldn’t help but notice how your tics- whistles, squeaks, and the occasional unexpected phrase- seemed to punctuate your sentences like exclamation points.

“Honestly,” he said at one point, his tone teasing, “your tics match my cute energy, don't you think?” He said poking his cheek in mock aegeyo. "It's babygirl heaven, don't you think?"

You laughed so hard at that, you nearly dropped your drink. “I cannot believe you just said that.”

He grinned, pleased with himself. “What can I say? Its the truth.”

But as you approached the counter to pick up your popcorn, the mood shifted. A group of teens standing nearby had been snickering quietly, but their whispers grew louder when one of your tics- a sudden, sharp “woof!” -rang out.

“Did she just bark?” one of them muttered, barely concealing a laugh.

Another chimed in, mockingly imitating the sound.

Your cheeks flushed, and you quickly turned away, mumbling an apology to the cashier as another tic- this time a chirped “uh-oh!”- slipped out. The laughter from the group grew louder, and you visibly flinched, trying to shrink into yourself.

Before you could even process what was happening, Changbin stepped forward, his voice cutting through the commotion like a blade. “Hey, is there a problem?”

The teens fell silent, their smug grins faltering under the weight of his glare.

“Because if there is,” he continued, his tone calm but laced with steel, “I suggest you take a good, long look at yourselves and figure out why you think laughing at someone for something they can’t control makes you feel better about your own lives.”

One of them opened their mouth to respond, but the words seemed to die on their tongue as Changbin took a deliberate step closer, his presence suddenly towering despite his shorter frame.

“Thought so,” he said, his smile tight and unyielding. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

He turned back to you, his expression softening immediately. “You okay?”

Your throat felt tight, but you managed a nod, blinking back the sting of tears. “Yeah. I just…I’m embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? For what?” His brow furrowed in genuine confusion.

“For causing a scene. For…” You hesitated, your voice breaking slightly. “For being a lot.”

Changbin’s expression softened, but his voice was steady and firm as he rested his hand gently on your arm, grounding you. “Y/N, you are just you. And anyone who can’t see how amazing that is doesn’t deserve your time, okay?”

The sincerity in his voice was overwhelming, his gaze so earnest it made your chest ache. For a moment, all you could do was nod, your chest tightening with a mix of gratitude and something deeper you couldn’t quite name.

As the two of you settled into your seats in the theater, he handed you your drink, his shoulder brushing yours in a way that felt both casual and deliberate. He leaned closer, his tone warm and teasing. "Like I said, I think your tics are adorable. And with a face like yours, I don't think any tic could be ugly or embarrassing."

Your laugh bubbled out, soft and genuine, and his grin widened. The tension you’d been carrying began to ease, replaced by a quiet sense of comfort.

Throughout the movie, you couldn’t help but notice the way he’d glance at you when you laughed at a scene or leaned forward slightly during an intense moment. It wasn’t just the movie holding his attention- it was you.

And Changbin knew it. With every glance, every tiny movement you made, he felt his resolve strengthening. He didn’t just want to spend the evening with you; he wanted to be part of your life in every way. He wanted to learn all the things that made you laugh, what made your eyes light up, what brought out the quiet confidence he’d glimpsed earlier.

He wanted to be the person you trusted with every part of yourself, the one who reminded you how extraordinary you were even when you couldn’t see it.

When the credits rolled, he stayed seated for a moment, turning to face you as you stretched and looked over at him. His chest tightened as he saw the way your smile hesitated, like you weren’t sure he’d want to stick around for more.

But he did. He wanted everything.

“How about dinner?” he asked, his words quick but hopeful. “I mean…if you’re up for it. I’d really like to keep talking to you. About anything. Everything.” His voice softened, carrying a weight of sincerity that made your breath catch. “I want to know you, Y/N. All of you.”

Your cheeks warmed, and a smile broke across your face, shy but unguarded. “I’d like that.”

As the two of you walked out of the theater, the night air felt lighter, the buzz of the world around you fading into the background. Changbin fell into step beside you, his shoulder brushing yours again.

Then, without hesitation, he reached out, his hand slipping into yours. His touch was gentle but firm, grounding, like he wanted to hold onto you in every way.

Your fingers curled around his, and when you glanced up, his smile softened, his dark eyes brimming with something you couldn’t quite name.

In that moment, Changbin wasn’t just thinking about the next date or the night ahead. He was thinking about the way you made his heart race, the way you made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t realized he was missing.

He wanted more of this- more of you. Not just tonight, not just a few dates, but always. And as his thumb brushed lightly over the back of your hand, he realized one thing: he didn’t just want you around. He wanted you in his life, forever.

And he was so happy he didn't say no to this blind date.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Han

Han Jisung had never considered himself the blind-date type. He liked to think of himself as spontaneous, sure- but not this kind of spontaneous. Yet, here he was, bundled in his favorite oversized hoodie, leaning against the railing of the city’s rooftop garden, waiting for a stranger.

When he saw you, his first thought was that his friend had undersold this whole setup. You weren’t at all what he expected- not that he knew what to expect. You were a breathtaking kind of pretty. And Han's heart flipped his chest.

You walked up with a careful sort of confidence, clutching the strap of your tote bag, your breath misting in the cool night air.

“Hi,” you greeted with a shy smile, your head tilting slightly as you blinked rapidly, followed by a quick jerk of your shoulder.

“Hi,” Jisung replied, pretending not to notice. He already felt his nerves settle slightly. There was something about you that felt...real.

Your mutual friend had mentioned you liked quiet settings, so instead of a loud restaurant or café, the garden had seemed like a good idea. Jisung gestured to the path leading further into the rooftop greenery. “Shall we walk?”

You nodded, your steps matching his, though every few strides you tapped your fingers against your leg. A small tic, but it was constant, like a rhythm you needed to keep.

The conversation started slow. Typical blind-date awkwardness lingered, but Jisung’s natural humor quickly worked its way in. He made a joke about the chilly weather, earning a laugh from you that felt like a little victory.

“So,” he began after a lull, “what’s your favorite thing to do in the city? Or are you more of a stay-home-and-chill type?”

“I like to stay in most days,” you admitted, tilting your head again as your hand briefly flicked out to your side. “I guess I’m more introverted. But when I do go out, I like quieter places…like this.”

“Good choice,” Jisung agreed, kicking the ground nervously. “Crowds are overrated anyway.”

You laughed softly, but your shoulders twitched again, more pronounced this time. You tried to suppress it, but Jisung caught the way your hand clenched slightly afterward, as if bracing yourself.

As the walk continued, your tics became more noticeable- a rapid blinking, a jerk of your wrist, the occasional tap of your foot on the pavement mid-stride. You hesitated for a moment before stopping by a bench, your hand brushing against your hair as you looked at the ground.

“Hey,” you said, your voice quieter now, “I think I should tell you something.”

Jisung turned to face you, his brow furrowed in concern. “What’s up?”

“I have Tourette’s,” you explained, your tone steady but guarded. “It’s not super severe, I've learned to live with it most days, but…I wanted to mention it in case…” You trailed off, your hand twitching slightly toward your chest before falling back to your lap.

“In case what?” Jisung asked gently.

“In case it’s…too much.”

For a moment, Jisung stared at you, his face unreadable. You wondered if you’d just ruined the evening. But then he spoke, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“Too much? Are you kidding? I can be a lot. Like, ask anyone.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by his lighthearted tone.

“I mean, seriously,” he continued, gesturing wildly for emphasis. “I talk way too much when I’m nervous, I lose stuff constantly, and don’t even get me started on how clumsy I am. If anyone’s a walking chaos machine, it’s me.”

You laughed softly, but it didn’t last long. Your shoulder jerked twice, quickly followed by an involuntary flick of your hand. You sighed, your lips trembling slightly as you looked away. “But it’s not just that, Jisung,” you muttered, your voice breaking slightly. “I… I don’t want to mess this up.”

His teasing grin faded, replaced by a look of concern. “Mess what up?”

“This,” you whispered, blinking rapidly as tears welled in your eyes. “You’re so nice, and I already really like you, but then there’s… me. My tics. It’s not just that I get nervous; it’s that I can’t stop it. And I hate thinking that it might make people uncomfortable, even if they don’t mean for it to.”

Your words spilled out faster than you could stop them, and you quickly wiped at your eyes, frustrated with yourself. “I don’t want to scare you away. But I…I don’t know how not to. Everyone else has been scared away before- but you seem really nice and I actually feel something and I don't want to put hope into something that-”

Jisung felt his chest tighten at your words. Without thinking, he dropped down to sit beside you on the bench, interupting you, his tone soft but firm. “Hey, hey, don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

You shook your head, a small, bitter laugh slipping out. “Sorry, I’m just…making this worse, aren't I?” You flicked your hand out again, accidentally slapping Han.

“No,” he said quickly. “No, you’re not. I mean it.”

When you didn’t respond, Jisung hesitated before reaching out, his hand hovering awkwardly near your shoulder. “Can I…?”

You nodded, and he gently rested his hand there, his thumb brushing lightly against the fabric of your coat. “Listen,” he began, “I don’t know who made you think you had to be scared of people running away from you being you, but they’re wrong. You’re…you’re great. And brave, too, for being so honest about this. I admire that.”

You blinked at him through your tears, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. You hand jerked out, but this time he caught it, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“And honestly?” he continued, a small smile tugging at his lips, as he rubbed his hands over your manicured nails. “You’re not scaring me away. Like, at all. If anything, you’re just making me want to know you better.”

You let out a shaky breath, his words sinking in slowly but surely. “Really?”

“Really,” he confirmed, his eyes crinkling with warmth. “And besides, I kind of suck at running, Like really really suck. I trip more than I actually run.”

A soft laugh escaped you then, the tension in your chest easing for the first time that evening. “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”

Jisung’s cheeks flushed pink, but he shrugged playfully. “I mean, I try.”

The rest of the night felt lighter. The two of you walked through the garden, Han's hand still in yours, your tics still present but no longer a source of discomfort. Every now and then, Jisung would glance at you- never with pity, but with curiosity and something warmer, softer.

As the two of you stopped at the edge of the rooftop, overlooking the twinkling lights below, Jisung turned to you with a thoughtful expression.

“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “I think this is my favorite blind date ever.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How many have you been on?”

“This is my first,” he admitted with a sheepish laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “But still! It’s gonna be hard to top…”

You raised an eyebrow, giving him an amused look.

“Not that I want it to be topped,” he continued quickly, a bit flustered. “I always kind of figured I’d be a one-and-done deal. Like my first is my last...and, I mean, it might be way too soon to say, but I think I lucked out with you…I kind of just feel it.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile couldn’t help but tug at your lips.

“Really, though,” Jisung added, his gaze earnest, eyes softening. “I had a great time tonight. And…if you’re up for it, I’d like to properly date you...”

“Even with my…” You gestured vaguely, your voice trailing off.

"Because of it," he corrected gently, his voice soft but unwavering. His eyes searched yours, full of warmth and something deeper that made your breath catch. "It's part of you- every piece of it. And I don’t just like who you are…I can easily see myself fall for you."

His words hung in the cool night air, wrapping around you like a tender embrace. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, your heart pounding so fiercely it was a wonder he couldn’t hear it.

“Jisung…” you murmured, your voice shaky but full of emotion.

He smiled, that familiar sheepish tilt to his lips, but his gaze stayed steady, unwavering in its honesty. “I don’t want this to be just a ‘one and done’ date. I want to keep getting to know you. To see where this could go. So that maybe you can be my one and done person.”

Your lips curved into a soft smile, your chest tightening with something you hadn’t dared to hope for. “Okay,” you whispered, the word carrying more weight than you expected. “I’d like that too.”

His grin widened, and the way he looked at you in that moment- like you were the only person in the world- made you feel like you could get used to this, to him, far too easily.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz

[numinousmysteries]

A Revelation

Okay, deep breath. I know what I'm about say isn't going to win me any friends in the X-Files fandom (and I'll probably lose more than a few) but it's time I be true to myself.

I've had this feeling bubbling up for a while that I've been trying to suppress because I know it's not a popular opinion but I figure now is as good a day as any to let everyone know....I am a noromo. I don't think Mulder and Scully are a good match. I just like the show for the scary stories and Chris Carter's genius plot.

Wow, just writing that gives me so much relief. I know I've been reblogging shippy gif sets and writing MSR fics but recently it's started to feel hollow. I'm so excited to live my truth as a born-again noromo.

If you like any of my fic, consider saving it now because I'll probably be taking it down and replacing it with stories that are more aligned with how I view the series now. I'm telling you, the ideas have just been FLOWING since I freed myself to write what I truly feel. I have two snippets I'll post here just as a taste of what's to come.

Here's an alternate take on the Amor Fati ending, and one for the Memento Mori hallway scene: AMOR FATI ALTERNATE ENDING

When Mulder opens the door to his apartment, bandaged head barely hidden under a New York Yankees cap, Scully feels nothing but professional respect. He has been her coworker for seven years after all. 

“Scully, what are you doing here?” He asks. “Actually, I was just getting dressed to come see you but I... I couldn't find a tie to go with my victory cap.” 

She knows he doesn’t really mean he was going to come see her, but rather come to the office where she also happens to work. 

If he were her romantic love interest and not just a coworker, Scully would consider taking his cap off and playfully tugging at his tie, but that would be completely inappropriate. They are just professional coworkers afterall. 

“Diana Fowley was found murdered this morning,” Scully tells him. Since Diana was the love of his life, she wanted to tell him this in person as soon as possible instead of in an official FBI memo as she originally planned. It does cross the line of professionalism, showing up in his personal space like this, but she knows how much Diana meant to him. Unlike herself, who is just a coworker to him.

“Thanks for letting me know, Agent Scully,” Mulder says, sadly. Diana was the love of his life afterall.

“Of course, Agent Mulder,” Scully says. She thinks about shaking his hand but instead just hands him the paperwork she brought with her. “Please make sure to file this PTO request for your brain surgery in a timely manner. Have a nice afternoon.”

She turns and walks away. 

**

MEMENTO MORI ALTERNATE HALLWAY SCENE

After retrieving Agent Scully’s ova from the Lombard Research Facility, Mulder decides it would only be polite and professional to let her know what he’s found. He returns to the hospital where he’s greeted by a stern nurse.

“Can I help you sir?” She asks.

“I'd like to see my professional work colleague, Agent Dana Scully. She’s a patient here,” he says.

“Are you family? Her husband?” 

“Oh no,” Mulder laughs. “I’m just her professional coworker.”

“Well then you’ll have to come back in the morning. Visiting hours are over.” 

Mulder nods. That makes sense. Why would he visit his totally platonic coworker in the middle of the night? He feels silly for even considering it now. 

“Thank you,” he says politely to the nurse. “I’ll return at a more appropriate hour for someone just visiting a colleague.” 

He turns and leaves.

[grayyxv]

Phaidei AU; celeb! phainon and nerd! mydei (kinda)

phainon is a famous actor who decided to attend okehema university to research for an upcoming role. in contrast, mydei was just an ordinary student. he had no clue who the hell phainon was and why everyone was going crazy over him.

mydei doesnt have social media or whatever. he doesnt keep up with latest movies or trends. he also isnt the most sociable person. he isnt in any clubs so in his free time, he spends he is at home working out, cooking, playing with his cat, ect. at school, he sits quietly at the back of the lecture hall or spends his time in the library. a true honorary student.

he doesnt like to stand out at all. he knows his looks (being 6ft 3 & muscular) is bound to get him attention or eyes lookomg his way. so he dresses in loose clothing, wears glasses and ties his hair. some girls do find him attractive still but they'd never talk to him because the permanent scowl on his face that seemed to scare off anybody.

when phainon first arrives, he is in a disguise. a bad one, but a disguise nonetheless. of course, some students were able to tell who he was right away. of course, there was no way he could go around school with a bodyguard as he wanted the most authentic university experience. hence, the school assigned him a guide, mydei.

when the principal told him that he was going to have some new student trailing him, mydei was indifferent. he wondered why him of all people? surely there must be someone more suited for this role. sure, he was an honor student but he barely socalized and had like 1 friend (hyacine). he accepted it anyways because it wasnt like he had anything better to do.

the day of their meeting finally arrives. phainon was expecting his guide to be a fangirl of some sort or a nerd. but instead, a man with the most gorgeous face walks into the room and phainon's jaw drops. mydei, though he had ditched his glasses today, was just dressed in his usual attire: an oversized sweater and some jeans. but phainon could tell that the man was jacked as hell. on the other hand, phainon was expecting some kind of reaction from mydei. especially when the principal said that mydei was going to stick with phainon for a year but mydei just nodded. thinking it was because of his disguise (it was just a pair of glasses), phainon stuck his hand out and introduced himself.

"Hi! I'm Phainon, as you may have heard i'm an actor researching for an upcoming role. I'll be in your care for the year. Lets get along~"

Phainon enthusiastically stuck his hand out to shake Mydei's hand. Mydei remained completely unfazed but took Phainon's hand anyways.

"Sure. I'm Mydeimos."

phainon wasn't one to boast about being famous and whatnot but he wondered if mydei really didn't know who he was or knew what he was about to deal with. however, he wasnt going to question him. instead, phainkn awkwardly chuckled and quickly released mydei's hand.

It was going to be one hell of a year.

-

other random notes;

hyacine is the only one who managed to befriend mydei. she was determined to be his friend though he looked really scary. they met in school once & talked about cats. then she invited him out to go to a cat expo where mydei adopted his own calico cat, meowy. (hyacine calls him meowdei)

she has a really fat cat named little ica that mydei affectionally calls 'fat fuck'.

-

fic idea i had that i wrote on my twitter. i expanded on it a little. i may or may not continue with this... ive some good ideas but im not that great at writing 😭

kinda inspired by tom holland researching on his role for spiderman LMAO

also, my x/twt is @/aschxv if anyone wants to yap about phaidei/hpmi/anything !!

[zolo-san]

Who wants to read my ramblings about a University AU idea that has started to consume my every waking thought? (It's primarily a Lawlu fic idea~)

My brain has really gotta stop doing this I've got two half written Lawlu fics just chillin in my notebook but then two days ago I had a fleeting thought that triggered my brain to start cooking up a University AU out of nowhere (I don't even normally write AUs so idk what is even happening)

So I started writing down some planning and ideas that, as per usually, devolved into some full fledged scenes and dialogue and it straight up feels like I'm being possessed by this stupid fucking AU and I'm going insane It's literally writing itself....I have no control any more (send help)

My planning doc is already over 3,500 words and I've only been typing shit up during my odd free moments at work It's literally like I'm witnessing a movie in my head and struggling to write it all down

So yeah that's a thing.......I still have at least one Zosan fic I really want to write for the Zosan Community Collab (ya know the one I'm hosting lol) but my brother in christ this au has a fucking choke hold on me

In case anyone cares to know: The basics of the AU right now is that Law is currently in his first year of residency and goes to the campus library often to study and that's where he sees Luffy, whose a bio major with a field research internship studying beetles. Law sees Luffy there all the time and sort of developed a crush on him, but he never actually talks to him. At some point shenanigans issue on campus that force the two of them to interact and they both take to each other very quickly (perhaps because Luffy also had a low-key crush on the attractive mysterious doctor whose always at the library 😏)

I could go on about all the Straw Hats and their areas of study, everyone's living arrangements, everyone's relationship dynamics, I also have info about Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin’s studies (Tho if anyone actually reads this and has any input on what majors they think Shachi and Penguin would have settled on, pls let me know because I have a note that they have no clue what they want to do and have switched majors at least three times, but I haven't decided what they'd settle on lol) I literally even have a floor plan for the dorm that Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, and Usopp share as well as Law's place (which is on campus despite it being usual for medical residents to stay on campus, he just prefers being close to the library because he's a fucking nerd)

Gods...someone save me from this fucking au....I'm going crazy..........anyways...I'm going to go back to more planning now (help >.<)

[friendly-neighbourhood-archon]

@anonymousreader4d7 Aaaalright, you know I'm a yapper, I'm more than happy to indulge you and tell you about all three of them even hahaha

Blindness Fic:

During a mission gone wrong, Aventurine gets injected with a mysterious substance. As his luck will have it, he manages to make his escape. But as the hours pass, his vision slowly gets worse and worse, until he's fully blind.

With some help from some subordinates he manages to return to the IPC headquarters, where he's promptly put into the medical wing and the doctors there try to figure out what's wrong with him and what that substance was.

But as time passes, even after a few weeks, they have nothing. Nothing they try helps him in any capacity. And Aventurine struggles a lot with adjusting to this new life. At first, he basically just lays in bed. Listens to radio or audiobooks to keep himself at least a little entertained. Or talks to Topaz, who visits him sometimes, when she has the time to. His phone lies abandoned in a corner, because even if Topaz tried to help him set it up to use it while blind, he doesn't feel like trying.

Eventually, after a bit more than a month, the IPC decides that there's no use in trying further and he loses his rank as a stoneheart and they kick him out of the medical ward. So he returns home to his apartment.

Of course, he's in a pretty bad state mentally. He feels useless and like his life is over. He constantly bumps into everything and his whole body hurts because of that. As he's home, he can't even do housework or cook for himself. Even ordering food is annoying. Everything is just so hard now and he kind of gives up. Just eats whatever, doesn't take care of himself, doesn't bother trying to clean much because he can't see if it's actually clean anyways.

Ratio has messaged him repeatedly but Aventurine doesn't know because he still doesn't touch his phone. Because he wasn't able to reach him, he started getting worried and instead got in touch with Topaz, who informed him of everything that happened.

Knowing Aventurine a little, he figures that he'll go to his apartment to make sure he's okay, because he has a bad feeling. And when Aventurine ends up opening the door, he looks absolutely terrible, and what little he can make out of the apartment, looks just as bad.

So he decides to invite himself in and stay for a while. Help Aventurine get back on his feet and help him learn how to navigate this new life. And as Ratio is staying, they slowly start to get closer to one another and eventually get together and their pathetic pining since their first meeting finally has an end.

Soulmate AU:

On Ratio's homeplanet, everyone has the name of their soulmate written on their wrist in grey color. When they finally meet them and speak their name for the first time, the writing turns the color(s) of the soulmate's eyes.

For two people from that planet, only one of them would need to speak the others' name for both soulmate marks to fill in and confirm the bond. But for those whose soulmate comes from another planet, the person from the other planet doesn't have a mark at first. So the person with the mark has to say the name and then the other person gains the mark in that moment. Soulmates then also start to slightly detect feelings through their bond (not detailed, just the general feelings).

Ratio's name is Kakavasha, and when he was younger, he spent a lot of time researching where the name was from. Because it was quite clear it wasn't native to his home planet, so it had to be someone from somewhere else. But he never found out anything and eventually stops searching. Sporadically, he takes it up again, but always comes up with nothing.

He doesn't want to fully give up on his soulmate because he might meet them some day. But then he also has feelings for Aventurine and he feels guilty. Both towards his soulmate for being in love with someone else and towards Aventurine for loving him when he has a soulmate he is kind of waiting for. So he tries not to pursue Aventurine, even if he catches himself sometimes playing into the others' banter or almost flirting. At some point, he told Aventurine about this concept, but never told him the name.

One day, Ratio and Aventurine sit together and talk. And Ratio asks him about Sigonia. It's rare for Aventurine to open up about these things, but he seems to be in a good mood and so he talks about how life was there a bit. And then he starts talking about a spring festival and mentions how he was named after it because he was born during it. He may not know the exact date when he was born, because the festival was over two days, but at least he has some idea when.

Of course, he can't help himself and ask about the name of the festival. So Aven tells him that the name of the festival is Kakava, and because of that he was named Kakavasha.

Dumbstruck, Ratio repeats the name. The name he'd seen all these years, wondered if it was pronounced the way he thought it was - and as he feels a zap, he can see that his mark has color now. But he also immediately is aware that his name has just appeared on Aventurine's wrist. Aven has been marked against his will before, so internally, Ratio is freaking out.

He slips out that he shouldn't have repeated the name, it would have been better if he hadn't. Meaning, he should have just shown him his wrist and leave the choice up to Aventurine. They could have been soulmates even without the bond ever fully completing, he would have been fine.

But Aven interprets it as Ratio not wanting him of all people as soulmate. The dirty avgin slave. Of course he woulnd't be good enough for Ratio. Before he can get overwhelmed by his feelings and his mask breaks, he leaves.

It takes them a little while of not talking, but eventually they finally do and everything gets resolved, of course.

Experimented on Fic:

Inspired by the absolutely gorgeous "How to Accidentally Acquire a Half-Snake Boyfriend, a Guide by Veritas Ratio".

Again mission gone wrong type of situation, where Aventurine ends up being kidnapped by a mad scientist who does genetic experiments. He tries to create different weird hybrids or creatures to sell them off for a lot of money.

For Aventurine, he decides he'd look pretty as a naga/mermaid (undecided still, though Naga Aven would probably have a bit of an easier life afterwards than mermaid Aven) and is sure he'd make a ton of money. But he also doesn't treat his test subjects super well because he wants to maximise profits.

Topaz and Ratio team up and manage to locate him, they pose as buyers and the scientist delivers Aven blindfolded and shackled to Ratio's home. He's very thin and slightly injured, clearly malnourished.

Ratio does his best to nurse him back to health, but Aventurine is also kind of trying to avoid things because he feels ashamed/embarassed for how he looks like. Tries to hide his tail and other traits, tries not to touch Ratio and avoids being touched as much as he can.

He feels disgusting and doesn't want Ratio to have to deal with this, who must find him just as disgusting. Being Avgin is already bad enough for most, and that's just the cherry on top now.

But Ratio is sweet and patient with him, bringing him anything he might want or need, utterly devoted to help him and make him feel better.

And over time, touches linger more than they need to, glances grow longer and steadier. Aventurine feels stupid for still being in love with Ratio but how can't he when he treats him like that?

Eventually, Aven learns to live with his new self and to accept himself and these two dumbasses also end up as a couple.