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fa-headhoncho · 2 months
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𝐥𝐮𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
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fa-headhoncho · 2 months
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Harmless Masterlist
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Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, series)
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fa-headhoncho · 2 months
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haven - masterlist
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battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader
Summary: After the sudden deaths of her mother and grandmother, y/n is forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke her heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, she vows to get to the bottom of her former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what she's expecting. Childhood friends to lovers & investigative reporter reader!
find it on ao3
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Interlude 1 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Interlude 2 Chapter 13 Chapter 14
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fa-headhoncho · 2 months
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Finding Home || Part Four
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Azriel x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: homelessness
Summary: Azriel admits to Y/N that he doesn’t want to rush the tasks and he is shown a glimpse of her good faith.
Finding Home Masterlist
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
•••
For the second morning in a row, Azriel awoke on Y/N’s couch. His neck was positioned at a weird angle and his wings held a dull ache. But he couldn’t be happier. The scent from the kitchen wafted over to him as he opened his eyes. Quiet humming came from the kitchen that seemed to awaken his shadows, they rose around him before slithering their way into the kitchen. Despite his still tired disposition, Azriel followed. 
What he was greeted to was the sight of Y/N spinning around her kitchen as she prepared a breakfast that could rival anything the House of Wind could create. Azriel couldn’t understand how she had the time for this, it was still early in the–
“Good morning, Azriel,” Y/N greeted. “Or should I say good afternoon? You have slept the whole day away.”
Azriel’s eyes widened. He was not sure when he had ever slept past six in the morning. Seven was considered a lie in for him. But as Azriel looked out of the large bay window, the sun was high in the sky. Despite it being winter, it looked pleasant outside. 
“I’m making some lunch, if you want any,” Y/N said, serving some food onto a plate. “But for you, it would be considered breakfast?” Her teasing tone forced Azriel to send a playful glare her way.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Azriel questioned as Y/N passed a plate of food to him.
Y/N shrugged. “You looked peaceful and I didn’t want to interrupt that.”
“I don’t normally sleep past seven,” Azriel stated.
“I could tell,” Y/N remarked. “Those bags under your eyes were clear of that.”
Y/N placed her plate down on the countertop. Azriel watched as she walked forward and gently placed her hands on his upper arms. At that simple touch, Azriel felt some of the tension in his body fade. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Look,” Y/N said and spun him around to face a small mirror on her wall. “The bags are not completely gone, but they have faded. When was the last time you had a decent sleep?”
“Too long,” Azriel said, his gaze fixated on his reflection. 
Before now, he had not realised how tired he was. If it were a typical day for him, he would wake and immediately begin training, not giving his body a chance to catch up to his exhaustion. He hadn’t felt this well-rested in a long time.
“If I knew how tired you were, I would have let you sleep in my bed, not on the couch, that could not have been comfortable for your wings,” Y/N said, sitting down at the small dining table in the bay window, perfectly fit for two people.
“I wouldn’t have allowed it,” Azriel said. “I am simply taking advantage of the situation I have found myself in.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”
Azriel let out a quiet laugh. “Well I get free food for starters.”
“You’ll pay me back,” Y/N stated.
“And how would you want me to pay you back?” Azriel questioned.
Y/N shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet, but I’ll let you know when I do.”
Azriel raised the fork to his mouth and took a bit of the food. He hummed in appreciation, closing his eyes and appreciating the various flavours that burst into his mouth. 
“What is this?” Azriel asked.
“Another recipe my father used to make me,” Y/N said. “I only make it on special occasions.”
“And this is a special occasion?” Azriel asked.
“Yes,” Y/N stated. “Because you have ticked another thing from the list.”
Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t think I have. We have only ticked off two? Coffee and dinner.”
Y/N sighed. “Honestly, Azriel, have you even read the list?”
In complete honesty, Azriel hadn’t. He had skimmed a couple of the tasks but hadn’t read beyond the first few properly. 
Y/N took his silence as his answer. “Number twenty-six, lie in.”
“That is seriously a task,” Azriel asked. 
Y/N held the list in her hand, Azriel having no idea where she had plucked it from. “Yes,” she said. “Have a look.”
Y/N thrust the list into Azriel’s hand and he focused on it. There it was, number twenty six. Something within Azriel was not too pleased. Three tasks down and it had barely been twenty four hours. Rhys had given him three months to complete all thirty tasks and if he continued to keep them up at the rate he was, he would have them done in not even two weeks. Too quickly for his liking. 
From the meeting with Rhys to now, Azriel had changed his outlook on the tasks. He wanted to do them. And he was enjoying himself immensely. The height of elation he had reached over the past twenty-four hours had been higher than he had reached in the past five years. And one of the main reasons was the female sitting across the small circular table. 
“Three down!” Y/N exclaimed.
Azriel forced a smile on his face, he hoped that it was convincing, but from the way Y/N’s face seemed to fall, it definitely wasn’t.
“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked, she placed her hand on the table and Azriel noticed her hesitation as she inched it closer. His hand rested not far from hers and he only wished that she would place it on top of his. The feeling of a caring touch was all Azriel craved. 
But his wish did not come true as Y/N slowly inched her hand closer to herself and settled it back in her lap. Azriel couldn’t help the disappointment that washed over him. 
“I just…think we are going through these tasks fast,” Azriel admitted.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Y/N asked. “You didn’t seem too thrilled when you were given them. I thought getting them done and out of the way would cheer you up a bit.” Azriel furrowed his eyebrows. “From the looks of things, it's doing the opposite.”
The words Azriel wanted to articulate were on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t get them out. How do you tell someone you just met that you have had more fun with them in twenty-four hours than the past few years with your family? If she took those words the wrong way, then there was that slim possibility that he would scare her away and Azriel would be back where he started, wallowing in misery. 
Instead Azriel opted for a simpler reason. “I enjoy spending time with you.”
Y/N’s face lit up and Azriel felt something within him stir. He was the one who had put that expression on her face. 
“Well that is good, because I really enjoy spending time with you too,” Y/N replied. 
There was something about that ‘really’ that brought out a wide smile on his face. Y/N seemed to mimic it as she leant her head on her hand.
“And I really enjoy when you smile like that,” Y/N said. “It suits you.”
Azriel continued to smile.
***
Despite the nippy weather, Y/N had suggested the two take a walk. After Azriel’s confession of wanting to slow down the tasks, they decided that the task ordering Azriel to take a walk, didn’t count. Their walk was just two friends spending time together, not completing mini missions. 
Y/N was once again wrapped up in her coat, scarf and gloves. Azriel laughed at her as she piled them on before leaving the apartment. Y/N only glared at him before stepping out to face the cold. 
The two walked side by side in silence, but Azriel felt no pressure to fill it. Simply being in Y/N’s presence was enough to keep him content. Any shop they passed, Y/N would sometimes point something out in the window she liked. There was something about that expression on her face that made Azriel want to immediately walk in and buy it, but he knew that Y/N would only march back in and return it in front of him. 
“Oh,” Y/N said, her hand shooting out to stop Azriel in his tracks. 
Azriel was immediately on alert. His shadows span out and scanned the area. “What is it?”
Y/N, noticing immediately his changed demeanour, rolled her eyes. “It is nothing bad, you oversized bat. I can just smell pastries.”
Azriel relaxed as he reeled his shadows back in. As he did so they gently caressed Y/N’s calves. If she noticed she didn’t say anything so Azriel didn’t mention it. 
“Come on,” Y/N said, linking her arm through Azriel’s. 
When the two made it to the bakery, Y/N went in while Azriel waited outside. It was packed and he didn’t want to crowd the space even more with his wings. And some of the questioning looks he was given made him refrain from even trying to enter. 
As he leaned against the wall waiting for Y/N, he felt a tap against his mental shields. He sighed before lowering them.
I trust you have started on the tasks, Rhys questioned.
What would you do if I haven’t? Azriel questioned.
Nothing, I suppose, Rhys said. Despite what you might think, Azriel, these tasks are meant to help you. You haven’t been yourself in quite a while. We thought you could do something that wasn’t court related. Give you a break.
I was fine doing my duties, Azriel said.
Azriel heard Rhys sigh. Look, Az. All of us are worried about you. We just want to help.
Azriel didn’t respond for a while but he could tell that Rhys was still in his mind. He made sure that he didn’t accidentally reveal anything about Y/N. He didn’t want his family to know about her. At least not yet. 
I have made a start on the tasks, Azriel replied.
Are you enjoying them? Rhys asked.
I–
Azriel stopped as Y/N walked out of the bakery and to Azriel. 
I need to go, Azriel replied. I will talk to you later.I
With that, Azriel slammed his shields back up, blocking Rhys out. As Y/N approached him, he smiled at her in greeting. 
“I know you said you didn’t want anything, but I bought you a few things anyway,” Y/N said, peering into the paper bag. “And I was thinking we can go back to my apartment and relax for a while. Of course it doesn’t need to be crossed off the list but it is quite cold out and the thought of sitting back and relaxing sounds nice.”
Azriel nodded. “I might need to go back to my apartment for a change of clothes.”
“Of course,” Y/N replied. “We can go there now, if you want. You can collect some other stuff as well if you want to spend the night again.”
Azriel’s expression softened. “I’d like that.”
Y/N linked her arm with his once again. “Then let’s go.”
As Azriel led her to his own apartment, he was hyper aware of her arm linked through his. Of course she had done it before but Azriel hadn’t even realised at that point something he had been lacking a lot in recent years. Physical touch. Every time Y/N reached out to him, all he wanted to do was link her arm through his, take her hand or just simply brush his fingers against hers. 
As the pair closed in on Azriel’s apartment, he could feel his heart begin to race. What would Y/N think of his apartment? There was not anything embarrassing in there, in fact it was very bare. No personal decoration other than a painting Feyre had gifted him several years ago and a few things he had picked up over the centuries he had been alive. Nothing screamed home about his apartment. 
“Do you want me to wait out here?” Y/N asked.
“And let you freeze to death?” Azriel teased as he fished the unused key from his pocket. 
As they stepped inside, even Azriel was surprised at how bare everything looked. For two nights he had been used to Y/N’s apartment and her cosy decorations and furniture. He was too bland for his liking. Even the curtains were firmly shut. 
“I will only be a second,” Azriel said and entered his bedroom. 
His bedroom was not any better. The bed was still unmade from the last time he had used it, the only indicator of someone living here. He quickly fished for a small bag under his bed and shoved some clothes within it. He gave his bedroom one final look before exiting. When he entered the living area, he found it now filled with light. 
“There,” Y/N said. “Now it doesn’t feel so cold here.”
She stood by the curtains and the soft light shining from behind her made her look ethereal. Even her just standing within his bare apartment made it feel more like a home. 
“Ready to go?” Y/N asked, interrupting Azriel from his thoughts.
“Oh,” Azriel said. He raised the small bag he was holding. “Yes I am.”
“Then let's go,” Y/N said.
They stepped back out into the cold and Y/N immediately inked her arm with his and pulled him away in the opposite direction they had come in. “Let’s walk by the river, it's a nicer route.”
Azriel allowed her to guide him without argument. 
As they walked by the river the wind seemed to pick up and a drizzle of rain began to fall. It was cold but Azriel could handle it with ease, but Y/N was shivering and it was beginning to shake Azriel’s arm. Azriel extended his wing like he had the night they met to try and block out some of the cold but it seemed useless as the rain was coming in from the wrong direction.  
“I’m okay,” Y/N said. “But perhaps coming this way was a mistake.”
Azriel laughed quietly and pulled Y/N closer to his side. “Perhaps it was.”
As the two walked next to the river, a faint voice called; “Anything will help.”
Y/N stopped in her tracks and turned to the source of the voice. An older fae woman and a child were huddled in a small gap between two buildings, the blanket covering them was covered in holes and did nothing to protect them from the cold. Azriel tried to reach out to Y/N as she stepped away from him, still shivering. 
“Can I help you?” Y/N asked, crouching down next to the woman and child. 
The child was shivering in the older fae’s lap, lips blue. 
“Any spare change would help us or any food you have to offer,” the older fae woman said weakly. 
“Of course!” Y/N said and immediately offered the bag full of pastries. “Take them all, you need them more than me.”
“I couldn’t possibly take them all,” the older fae said. “This is simply too much.”
Y/N’s expression softened. “Of course you can. Please, I insist.”
The fae woman took the bag with hesitation as if she were afraid Y/N would take back her offer and walk away. The fae took the bag with shaking hands. Azriel looked from the fae to the child in her lap, looking close to death. His heart dropped.
“I don’t have much more to offer than the clothes on my back, so…” Y/N unwrapped the scarf from her neck and wrapped it around the fae woman’s. She then proceeded to take her gloves off and place them by the child. Finally she shrugged her thick warm coat off and draped it over the child. 
“I can’t allow you to give us your clothes!” the fae exclaimed.
Y/N gently grasped the fae’s shivering hands. “Of course you can, this blanket is not doing much in keeping your from the cold.”
“But–”
“Please, take it,” Y/N said and let go of the woman’s hands.
As she stood back up, Azriel could tell how much she was fighting the urge to shiver in front of the woman and child. The rain had began to come down heavier and The exposed alley did nothing to shield the two from it. 
Without thinking, Azriel fished his key out of his pocket. “Here,” he offered. “It is a key to an apartment around the corner. Stay there as long as you wish. I can drop by and bring some food for you in the morning.”
The older fae finally looked up to Azriel and her eyes widened, realising who he was. She looked down at her lap. “I couldn’t possibly take you up on that offer.”
“You can and you will,” Azriel said firmly. “This rain might be the beginning of a storm and I do not want the two of you out here, especially when your child is as sick as he is.”
“My grandchild,” the older fae corrected. “My daughter passed away recently.”
“More of a reason for you to get your grandson to safety,” Azriel said and placed the key on the ground next to the woman. “I am leaving my key here. If you decide not to go, that is your decision but I would highly suggest it. The rain will only get heavier from here.”
The older fae bowed her head. “Thank you both for your great kindness. Not many others have even offered us a passing glance.”
Y/N stepped forward. “I hope the two of you will stay safe.”
“We will, thanks to your kindness,” the older fae said.
Azriel and Y/N both nodded before stepping away from the woman. As they walked further down the street, Azriel turned and saw the woman walking down the street, the child wearing Y/N’s coat.
“L-l-let’s get back to m-my apartment,” Y/N said, shivering a lot now. 
Azriel’s eyes widened as he noticed the long dress she wore had soaked through and was clinging to her body. His hands immediately found themselves on her upper arms and rubbed them, trying to keep her warm. 
Y/N tilted her head to look up at him and smiled. “If you were trying to keep me warm, the first thing you would ask me to do is take off my clothes. These wet ones are only making me colder.”
Azriel blushed as she tried to avoid eye contact with her, but his eyes seemed to feel a magnetic pull toward hers. He couldn’t look away.
“Now is not the time for jokes,” Azriel said.
“But I love making you flustered, you look cute,” Y/N teased.
Azriel’s blush only deepened. 
The street was now empty and the only sound was the rain hitting the cobblestone street. Y/N shivered so much that Azriel pulled her body closer to his. “Do you trust me?” his voice was soft and quiet. He hadn’t intended it to come out that way.
“What?”
“Do you trust me?” Azriel asked again, his grip tightening on her waist.
“Of course I do,” Y/N replied, not a hint of teasing in her tone. 
Azriel trailed his hands slowly down her arms, before they came to her hands. There was a part of him that wanted to pull away but he forced himself to rid that thought from his mind. He lifted them so her arms were wrapped around his neck. Y/N’s breath hitched. Their position was quite intimate, Azriel would admit. But he couldn’t pull away. 
With one quick swoop, Azriel lifted Y/N into his arms and her grip tightened on him. “I will ask again, do you trust me”?
“Yes,” Y/N said, her voice slightly breathless. “Azriel, I trust you.”
A small smile toyed on Azriel’s lips. “Good.”
It was all he said before shooting into the air.
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fa-headhoncho · 2 months
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Updated UTR Masterlist!
Unlike The Rest Masterlist
A George Weasley x Malfoy!Reader series
It goes through the reader’s journey at Hogwarts as she grows up and how she makes a name for herself as more than a Malfoy. 
Note: If you have any ideas or anything you’d like to see in this series please message me! I’m open to suggestions. 
This switched from a first book to last book series to me doing a little few part series to something else (hint the awkward part 1-part 5 situation). It’s going to be basically a series of imagines with the same reader background showing the growth off the relationship and the reader.
If you want a quick background, Part 1 of year 3 is where to start!
Year 1:
uh…
Year 2:
empty
Year 3:
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 (of the original series)
Year 4:
Can you tell I based this entire series off of Goblet of Fire?
Year 5:
Oh, Party
Year 6:
Quidditch World Cup, The Burrow, Crucio, Girl Talk, Gits, Old Men
Year 7:
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fa-headhoncho · 2 months
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Old Men
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(Eventual) George Weasley x Malfoy!Reader
Summary: Aftermentioned gits put their plan into motion.
Word Count: 2453
Reader: Female
Warnings: Admitting your wrongs :(
Author’s Note: Inconsistently back as ever :)
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
=====
The group lets out a booming roar as Cedric drops his name into the goblet. You half-heartedly join in, clapping along with his friends while the blue fire eats his name. The sound of singeing seals Cedric’s fate; if his name is popped out tomorrow night, he was in the game. 
The Tournament was filled with hard tasks, doubling the intensity most likely since the volunteers were at legal age. Times were pretty messed up right now and you wouldn’t put it past whoever was behind this to make the students work for the reward. The uncertainty is what would kill you… and possibly Cedric. 
Alfred already has the blonde in a chokehold when you turn back to them. You watch as the rest give him pats on the back or words of positivity, the worry slowly dissipating when you see the smile on his face. He lets out a laugh before pushing his friend off of him and lurching off him and onto you. 
You barely have time to hug back as he starts to squeeze you, letting out another laugh. 
“Oi, Cedi, I don’t think they’ll let you participate if you’re in Azkaban for suffocating me to death,” You joke but he only tightens his hold. The pressure and his excitement rubbing off of you makes you giggle. 
He pulls back slightly and stares at you for a moment then he places a wet, sloppy kiss on your forehead and disappears back into his crowd of friends. A large blush appears on your face from his affectionate action. It wasn’t like you weren’t touchy with your friends, far from it, but the new crowd of students intimidated you. You could feel the eyes burning into your skin and you just wanted to combust. 
A tuff of red hair comes into view and you reach out for safety. Ron’s head turns as he feels a gentle touch on his elbow, his confusion dissipating when he sees you falling into step with him and Harry. 
“Oh, hi (Y/N).” He greets you with a small smile which you half return, “Pretty wild that Cedric put his name in the cup, huh?” 
You nod absent-mindedly, looking around the students standing about the room to see if you spotted the two nimrods you were searching for. “Have you seen the twins?” 
He shakes his head and you turn to Harry who does the same. You let out a sigh, dropping your hand from your hold on him and looking down at your shoes. You wanted to find the twin before they finished their potion, hoping to help them out instead of having them kill themselves prior to them even putting their name into the Goblet. There was an apology in order from you once you realized how your words had a double meaning to them. You weren’t trying to undermine them, you were just scared to lose them. 
Harry seemed to notice your face fall and the gears turning in your head, “Why are you looking for them? Is everything okay?” 
You bite your lip, debating telling the two what happened. “I kind of… yelled at them this morning for wanting to put their name in.” You shyly admit making Ron let out a light laugh. Your eyes immediately snap to him and send him a scowl. He doesn’t seem to get the hint until Harry knocks his shoulder with his. 
“Yea, I would be mad too if I were as close as you were with them.” The black-haired boy consoles, “Who would want to put their life at risk for a silly title and some galleons?” 
Sometimes you wonder how someone could be so rude to that boy. You didn’t interact with Harry a lot but when you did it was always pleasant. 
You open your mouth to respond but it dies in your throat when the room fills with cheers and hooting. All eyes turn toward the door as the twins bounce through causing an uproar. People clap as they hold up the long glass vials, showing off their finished product. 
Their cockiness makes every bit of guilt and remorse you feel fly out the window. Sure, it was kind of impressive that the two could whip up such a complicated potion within less than 24 hours but still. They were prancing around like it wasn’t going to be the thing that killed them. 
Maybe you were being a bit extreme. But, still, it was a stupid idea. They had an age restriction for a reason. 
After a brief conversation with Hermione who pointed out that the age line would just knock them out (something your brain failed to point out before your emotions took over), they make a show of linking arms like a couple at a wedding and down the liquid. 
Your breath hitches when they drop from the bench and leap over the age line, the room going silent in anticipation. When nothing happens, the crowd resumes praising the two. You can’t help yourself from smiling, a weird sense of pride replacing the worry since they outwitted Dumbledore himself.  
The boys dance around the circle, yes-ing and throwing thumbs up to everyone. They then both raise an arm and drop their papers into the Goblet. The same bolt of panic that surged through you when Cedric put his name in shoots through your spine again. You didn’t have any time to dwell on the feeling before their whole plan turns sour. 
Blue flames twist out of the goblet, swirling in the air before shooting out and blasting the red-haired nitwits. The blow sends them flying back, students circle them once they land. You’re too far away to see what they’re doing, too busy processing what just happened before chants fill the air. 
“Oh Merlin,” You finally snap out of it, rushing around the circle and rushing towards them. You wiggle through the crowd, pushing people out of the way and halting when you come to the front. The twins were rolling around on the floor, greybeards and all, wrestling each other. 
You let out an indigent sound, angry at the two for getting themselves into this situation in the first place but also at everyone who is just sitting back and watching. 
Rushing forward, you try to pull the two old men apart. You tug at whoever was on top’s robes and a hand flies back to hit you. You gasp at them, grabbing the hood and using all your strength to at least give them a hint. The twin on top rolls off beside the other and they both look up at you. 
You stare down at them, they both have long grey hair and matching fluffy beards. There was a small skip of a beat in your heart as you looked at what the two would look like when they were old. Hopefully, this won’t be the only time you would see the two like this. 
Shaking your head to knock the paranoid thoughts out, you focus back on the situation at hand. “Are you two stupid? Even Hermione told you that it wouldn’t have worked.” They just share a pained glance with one another. You snap your fingers, grabbing their attention again but all you get is their puppy dog eyes. “Why don’t you two listen to me ever?” 
They send you a sheepish smile, barely visible under their large beards. You let out a dramatic groan, “Get up, nimrods.” You signal them with one hand and turn around, not bothering to see if they are following. The sea of students part for you, the scowl on your face enough to strike fear into them to clear a path without question. 
None of you say anything until the three of you were out in the corridor, the only words being spoken along the way were Ron wishing the twins good luck. Once the doors shut, the two start bickering once again. 
You’re tempted to stomp your foot like a child, but you are too busy focusing your energy into not tripping up the staircase. People stare as you march through the corridors, some Beauxbatons students whispering in French as you pass. 
The twins bump into you when you stop abruptly. Both of them are about to mouth off something yet decided against it when you raise a finger. “Could you two stop for one second?” One of them, Fred presumably, opens his mouth to spit something back but George stops him with a light smack to his chest. You give him a grateful smile before digging into your robes for something. 
Two potions daggle in front of the two boys making the older, well usually older, one roll his eyes. “You really made a bloody antidote. Do you have zero faith in us?” He scoffs but takes the potion and storms off. 
You call after him, giving up when he turns a corner and disappears. As much as you like Fred and appreciate the friendship he forced upon you, he was quite difficult to make amends with when a problem arises. A frustrated huff escapes your mouth and your shoulders slump. Would he have rather gone to the hospital wing and get in trouble?  
Deciding it was better to talk to him when he cools off, you turn back around to face the remaining twin, “I’m sorry, Georgie.” A guilty smile crosses your lips, “You have to be a wiz at charms and potions to pull the pranks. I didn’t mean to insult your guys’ intelligence, just your decision making skills.” He rolls his eyes, “I mean, I just don’t understand why you two would just jump on the opportunity to basically kill yourself for money.” 
“Well, we’d rather die than not get the money.” 
“George— “ 
A small smirk appears on his face when your voice raises a few octaves, anything to release some of the tension built up between the three of you. “Love, I’m kidding.” He runs a soothing hand over your scalp, running it down your arm and ending its journey when his hand slips into yours. You lean into his touch easily, glad they’re not the wrinkled ones from moments before. “You really don’t get it, do you?” 
His tilted head makes you frown, you truly had no idea why the two were so adamant about joining this tournament. The risk outweighed the reward by miles. You felt guilty about calling them stupid, not about being protective of them. You just shake your head in return and let him guide you to a nearby bench. 
The red head opens his mouth then closes it, not knowing how to express his feelings without you taking it the wrong way. “Fred was right when he said we don’t have money like you do-- not that he said it in the nicest way,” He quickly adds when he sees your head tilt down in shame, “Nor do we have the same notoriety that comes with your last name. There’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just--” He trails off and looks past you, trying to reorganize his thoughts. 
“I don’t know my privilege sometimes.” You finish for him, and he nods to confirm. “I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t realize that.” The connections make sense, the glances shared between them when you went to the shop together, the nervous expression on George’s face every time you exchanged gifts during holidays, the staying at home during Hogsmeade weekends with “doing homework” excuses. 
“We needed the money to open the joke shop and the allure it would get being owned by a Triwizard Champion, not because we wanted it for anything else.” He explains fully, glad to the realization on your face. 
“What about the money from your bets at the cup?” 
“Bagman said we needed a lesson about underage gambling.” 
“That no good--” 
George lets out a chuckle at how easily you switch moods. “Love, it’s fine.” He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him when he goes to run his other hand over your head again. The clarification of you worrying about him -them- waters his insides as his crush on you blossoms even more, “We’ll figure something out, Fred and I already have some plans.” 
You huff and lean into him, “I am truly sorry, George. I really didn’t mean to insult you guys. I worry about Cedric but if something happened to you.” You look down at your intertwined hands, enjoying the moment before your eyes widen, “--Or Fred!” You quickly add, realizing what you said. If he heard your slip, he didn’t mention it. But, if you took a daring glance, you would see his bright red face. “Is there anything I can help with? As an apology?” 
He fiddles with a loose string on the sleeve of your robe, debating between his options. “Do my potions essay?” That earns him a slap on the wrist making him giggle and squeeze you closer to him. 
“I’ll be your first employee.” You offer, running through different ideas through your head. “I bet I can stock shelves faster than you.” A proud claim yet there is a mischievous glint in your eyes as you look up at him. 
His mind goes blank at the thought of you suggesting a future event with him after graduation even if it was to make up for some silly understanding. Add that to the way you’re looking up at him, he couldn’t tell someone his name if they asked. He’s glad Fred stormed off because if his brother saw him this way, he could never live it down. 
You call out to him, pulling him back into reality. 
He feels his cheeks start to heat up, so he just pushes your head back into his shoulder, “We’ll see if you’ll have time once you’re traveling the world saving creatures.” You easily tuck into his side and fall into step with him as he starts moving the two of you down the corridor. 
You falter a little at the mention of your dream career, the possibility of it slowly dwindling as time goes on. “I’ll always have time for my favorite Weasley.” The response comes so immediate, like it’s something you’ve said to him a thousand times. It’s like you don’t know what you do to him when you say those words— well, you couldn’t have since he’s never told you. 
“I mean Ginny, of course. Not you.” 
One last blow to regain the normalcy between you too. George recovers rather quickly this time, pinching your sides to make you as frazzled as he was. You let out a squeal, surprised by the action and push your face into him more. 
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fa-headhoncho · 3 months
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unsolved (i)
Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or any shits left to give, to make things more unbearable. (Bucky x reader, buzzfeed unsolved AU)
Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit and uncooperative supreme, Very Loud Very Out There reader, images and memes that all have alt texts.
Word count: 2.4k
A/N: yes this is literally harmless in a different font. do not ask me if anything doesn't make sense. i cannot explain. i resurface every 3 years to present you with ideas born from menty b's. ANYWAY shout out to my beloved ryan and shane. pls enjoy <3
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Bucky doesn’t appeal to the youths.
Apparently. 
On God, he cannot fathom why.
He had definitely left the house in the last six months, maybe. Smiled in at least two pictures that existed on the internet. He even knew what Discord was. Sort of.  
By all accounts, he should be treated as the modern day icon that he was.  
“The youths?” he repeats, the word so foreign on his tongue it felt odd to even say it.
“Your numbers are the lowest of the whole team.” The latest tech-dude, with a tablet twelve models ahead of the one Bucky had in his room, tells him monotonously. “Wilson, Romanoff and Barton score the highest. Everyone else lies around the middle. You are dead-last.”
Bucky has the audacity to look offended. 
“Anything to say?” Their PR head, Maya, asks him, amused. 
He stares, formulating the wittiest one liner he could in three seconds.
“I don’ care,” he mumbles. 
Maya sighs. “Look, the team took the decision together. As far as I’m aware, you are still a member. You need some PR if you guys want to stay in the public’s good books.”
“No one’s gonna listen to me.” Bucky wasn’t exactly the poster child for American values. He couldn’t even vote until three years ago, and that came only after the full wrath of a Steve Rogers descended on the email inbox of the DMV. 
“That’s why it’s important to get them to like you,” Maya emphasizes. “Or the idea of you at least. A very sanitized, corporate friendly version.”
His eyebrow twitches unintentionally.  
“And also you signed the contract.”
Well. Shit. 
Truth be told– and he has openly and rather loudly stated this on numerous occasions even especially when no one asked– he doesn’t understand why they need a PR team. The world has calmed down significantly over the last few years. Bucky hadn’t really been out crime-fighting as much as he was people-watching. There hasn’t been an earth-shatteringly dystopian-level event in the longest time, and there seemed to be a group of spandex-clad teenagers who seemed to do a good job at taking care of them when they did threaten to occur. Go kids.
Even if they needed PR, he could arguably understand the appeal of Sam and Nat and why the people would want to see more of them. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he crawled onto Earth most days of the week. 
“What do I have to do?” he asks ultimately, knowing there was no way to get out of this. “Interviews?”
The intern shares a look with Maya. Bucky shares a look with the ceiling. 
“The team agreed to do a series of videos, each focusing on a different niche,” she begins, “Crash courses on science, pointing out mistakes in spy movies. Once a week.”
Bucky nods along. He can pinpoint Bruce and Nat for those.
Maya stares at him.
Bucky stares back.
“So,” she says slowly, like he’s a moron, “you would–”
“No.” 
The intern sighs heavily like they discussed that this was going to happen. Bucky was getting predictable. This annoys him even further, for some reason.
“Only once a week, and it doesn’t have to be anything crazy–”
“I’m not doing videos,” he interjects. “I’ll tweet a few times. I’ll even go outside. But ’m not doin’ videos.”
A big step was to get the Avengers off Twitter after the regular shit-storm that occurs every time they’d quote-tweet another politician calling them shitheads. Getting them back on seems counterproductive. 
“Fine,” Maya relents, looking at the intern. “We'll work something out.”
Bucky leans back in his chair, and meditating on ways he can weasel his way out of those too.
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So they stick him in a couple of interviews.
Bucky, as the recluse extraordinaire that he was, does unsurprisingly terrible at them.
Variety does a piece on him that was supposed to take up 2 pages. They send back half a page worth of usable material and Bucky gets a lecture on how monosyllables don't count as answers.
He grunts in return. Maya’s itch to smack his shoulder with the rolled up draft increases.
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They set him up for pap walks. Just him getting fast food for the team, or sitting in the park.
They don’t take into account that Bucky was trained professionally for years on how to hide, sneak in and out of places without a soul knowing he was ever there. 
The paparazzi spend three hours waiting for him outside the pizza place, while he’s been home for two hours with two demolished pepperonis and an order of mozzarella sticks. 
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They give him access to his Twitter. 
He tweets some dumb shit and gets shadow banned by that evening. 
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Maya is sick and tired, and the interns have shifted three times since the whole ordeal started. Bucky honestly feels a little bad. Maybe he should try to be like Scott, who not only wrote a book, finger-gunned at photographers, did an interview a week, but also agreed to a podcast and a video series about literally anything they suggested. 
“Play nice,” Sam tells Bucky one evening. 
It’s an off-hand comment, not even really looking at him while he says it. 
Bucky doesn’t need to ask what he’s referring to, but he thinks that maybe he has gone too far.
He begrudgingly agrees. 
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Therefore, it begins. 
They stick him in the background of a few videos. Just to interact, add his commentary on what was going on, suggestions. 
Then the jokes really start.
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“I just don’t got anything to add,” Bucky tries, in a failure of an attempt to justify his lack of contribution. 
Maya only stares at him, but Bucky swears he can hear her curse quietly, even though her lips don’t move even a millimeter.  
He is not put in another video. 
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And so he finds himself here. 
In a meeting room that he’s convinced is barricaded from the outside so he can’t slither out the door again. Another intern with pink-tinted glasses that took up half their face.
Maya’s in the midst of explaining to him that sure, his numbers had gone up by a decimal, but that was because people had started editing him into the backgrounds of other pictures for other users to find in a perplexing take on Where’s Waldo.
“Videos seem to be working,” she ties it together. “But we need more than you just standing silently behind Captain Rogers.”
“But it’s working,” Bucky objects. “I don’t see why it has to change.”
Maya sends him a glare. Bucky decides then it’s good to shut up. 
“Are you on the internet a significant amount?” the intern asks. The glasses on their face have changed colours to green. Bucky’s eyebrow furrows. 
“No.” 
For the next thirty minutes, he is subjected to a pop quiz about too many words ending with ‘core’, ‘coded’ and ‘eras’. He’s surprised that he knows what cottagecore is. He definitely doesn’t fucking know what a tomatogirl, nor does he want to. 
“What do you like doing?” the intern enunciates, pulling up a spreadsheet of niches that had built a dedicated community around themselves over the years. “Makeup? Cleaning? Parkour?”
Bucky wonders if they’d really create a montage of him just micro cleaning the kitchen every week. It doesn’t sound half bad. 
Beyond that, the only thing he can think of is woodworking, which Sam introduced him to. While he spends time creating little figures, he wouldn’t say it was– 
“You really are dead silent,” the intern breaks his train of thought, tone almost that of wonder. “Guess the whole ‘ghost story for seventy years’ is more true than I thought.”
Bucky throws him a weary look, and works on unclenching the fist that tightened involuntarily. 
“Was that necessary?” Maya’s voice comes coldly. “Take fifteen. Go find the other one we were supposed to meet.”
While sheepish and somewhat apologetic, the kid still looks relieved to be out of there. To be honest, Bucky isn’t really offended– he’s grown a thick skin over the years. But he also thought the guy was a little shit now. 
Maya turns back to him, but Bucky finds that the table contains wonders far more interesting than the conversation at hand.
“Back to what we were talking about.” She ruffles through something on her laptop. “Puppets? History?”
He wordlessly shakes his head. 
Been the former, seen too much of the latter.
Maya’s head tilts abruptly. “You like ghosts?”  
He wonders if the prior conversation had anything to do with this insightful question. 
Bucky shrugs. “Don’t exist.”
“Really,” Maya deadpans. “Aliens and multiversal baboons are fine, but no ghosts.”
“I’ve seen aliens and multiversal baboons. Never seen a ghost in my life,” Bucky argues right back.
“Other people have seen ghosts.”
“Good for other people.”
The door swings open right as Maya’s eyes narrow at him. Guess it wasn’t padlocked. 
“Whatever it is you think I did, Maya, I didn’t. I think,” you announce in a volume too much for a closed room, stopping when you see Bucky sitting cross-armed and looking delightfully disgruntled. “Oh hey, Barnes. Fancy seeing you here.”
Bucky had met you. The newest addition to the team that had made a grand entrance a couple of weeks ago. He thinks you stay on the floor below him, but he has nothing backing this hypothesis other than the disco funk music that had started appearing at odd hours of the night. 
“Please sit,” Maya cracks a smile at you that Bucky had yet to earn. “Sorry, I know our meeting is scheduled for later, but I figured we could kill two birds with one stone.”
You look between her and Bucky, who hasn’t moved an inch since you got here, much less even said hello.
“You must be really bad if Maya had to call me in,” you tell him outright. “I’m usually like, her last option.”
“Thanks,” Bucky replies dryly. 
“Look, here’s my final pitch.” Maya sighs, before turning to you. “You’re new, and we need something to introduce you slowly to the public.”
“Oh, am I finally getting hard launched?” You grin, and Bucky doesn’t know what that means. “Just imagine me kicking my feet, giggling or whatever.” 
“And he needs… an upgrade.” Maya’s thumb juts out towards Bucky who simply rolls his eyes.
“Right.” Your sight lands on him from across the table. “I’ve seen the memes.”
“What memes?” he grunts, because while the team had definitely seen them, it didn't occur to anyone they should show it to him. He loves them. Really. So much. Die for them. 
You only look too happy to pull out your phone and start typing.
“Do you know what skinwalkers are?” 
“No.”
“That’s what they say you look like, lurking in the back of all your friends’ videos,” you continue, swerving around your phone to show him.
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Bucky doesn’t look impressed. He can’t say he blames them either, which makes him inexplicably maddens him.  
“At least they’re calling you their boyfriend,” you add, entirely unhelpfully. “That’s gotta count.”
“Right.” Maya clears her throat. “The both of you–” 
“Are getting paired together, I suppose,” you hum. 
Bucky’s eyebrows pull together. 
He barely knows you. Just a little bit on how you ended up here, that you enjoyed hanging out with the team, figuring out your place in the compound, and were seemingly doing a great job at it. 
You were… loud. And open. 
Bucky feels the compulsive need to compensate for that by doubling down on how silent he could get, as if the two of you couldn’t co-exist in the same space in equilibrium. 
Maya pointedly raises a finger at you. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“For the right price, I will believe in whatever you tell me to.”
Her face lights up brighter than Bucky's ever seen.
“Great.” Maya slams her laptop closed. “See you later.”
Bucky’s left staring as she exits, not even throwing the both of you another look.
“That was quick,” your voice cuts through the silence. “What was that all about?”
 “Don’ ask me,” he grumbles, with a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what was about to follow. 
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“Ghost hunting?” Bucky echoes a week later, as expected.
“Yes,” Maya tells him simply. “Two of you. A series based on paranormal activity.”
“I don’t even believe in them,” he reiterates. 
“That’s the point,” she emphasises. “Skeptic and believer. It makes for a good contrast.”
“Why us both?” He hopes it doesn’t come off as offensive. He just doesn’t see why he can’t do this with Sam. Even Clint, if a gun was really pressed to his head. 
“I’m new, no one gives a shit about me,” you say brightly and full of promise. “Yet.”
“Exactly. It’ll be low key. Not an overwhelming number of viewers, no expectations. It’s perfect for launching one Avenger and re-launching another.”
“Sounds rad.” You grin, leaning back as your feet rest on the chair in front of you.
Maya looks relieved for a moment that at least one of you was on board. “No promises on anything. We shoot one video, and if it does well, we stick with it.”
“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky argues. 
“Then you have until tomorrow morning to give us another feasible idea,” Maya dishes back.
Bucky retreats into his seat, arms crossed over his chest. 
Truth be told, he considered himself to be the most boring person in the team and though he had made his peace with that, he was sure thar bringing that up now would entail Maya shooting him in the foot.
“Fine,” he agrees and the sighs around the room are loud. 
He scoffs. So fucking dramatic and for what.
“Put her there, partner.” You stretch ungracefully over the large table, sticking out your hand.
Bucky eyes your hand. “Do you even believe in ghosts?” 
“I do now, yeah.” You nod seriously. “Love ‘em. Can’t get enough of them.”
“One video,” Maya reminds him as a balm. “And if it doesn’t work, you’re off the hook forever.”
Off the hook? Forever? For Bucky?
Yay. 
“One video,” he reiterates.
You roll your eyes before smiling widely when he leans forward to grab it. You yank it up and down clunkily. He blinks at you, letting go slowly. 
“Thank fuck,” Maya groans, head dropping onto the table. 
You smile wildly. “Guess we’re doing this shit together.”
He doesn’t even have to look very deep in his soul. He already knows he’s going to suffer.
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here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!
to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!
also i'd absolutely love to make this a community led fic like how harmless was! if you have memes or any paranormal ideas or just any prompts in general, please please send them my way <3
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fa-headhoncho · 3 months
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67K notes · View notes
fa-headhoncho · 3 months
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She hasn’t responded to you yet because she’s busy being openly pathetic on Tumblr. Give it some time
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fa-headhoncho · 6 months
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Living in my speak now era cuz of this
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right where you left me;
summary:
steve harrington is unlucky when it comes to matters of the heart. for years he’s been in love with his best friend, but circumstances have made it impossible for him to make his feelings known. fate seems to have other plans, when you ask him to help you escape your wedding day, with nothing but his hand to hold and a car to drive off in. you suddenly find yourself headed back to hawkins, back to the place that feels so unfamiliar now — back to the place where you first fell in love.
warnings:
18+, for use of alcohol, smut, and my blog rules in general.
steve harrington x f!reader || best friends to lovers, mutual pining, second chance romance with the town handyman who lives in a cabin in the woods. inspired by this edit by @somnambulic-thing
——
|| playlist || moodboard ||
chapters (1/3):
one: ticket to anywhere
two: can i be close to you?
three: you can hear it in the silence
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fa-headhoncho · 7 months
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It is really concerning to feminism how the way this fic makes me want Steve Harrington
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•*⁀➷ ❝ 𝐈’𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔. ❞✧∘ ✭・.✫・゜·。.
supernovafics!
✭•*⁀➷ a bestfriend!steve harrington roommate au slightly inspired by the tv show “friends” ·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
a year in the lives of you and your best friend steve harrington. you never thought that you would be living with this guy you’ve known since you were ten— although it was a hypothetical topic that was discussed at length during the many sleepovers you had over the years. but somehow on a hectic day in august, the stars managed to align, and the next thing you know a lease is being signed and the two of you are moving into a two-bedroom apartment. so far it’s been two months of countless late nights and too many really early mornings where you’re running late to class or steve’s rushing to get to his shift at family video. for the most part, though, it’s a perfect situation. until the lines that felt as if they were clearly drawn in the sand— and had been there from perhaps the moment you and him met— start getting blurrier and blurrier
warnings: bestfriend!steve, roommate!steve, childhood best friends to (eventual) lovers, two idiots in love (but neither wanna admit it), besties being besties, minimal angst, mainly just a lot of fun vibes, eventual smut (minors dni!), many familiar faces (robin, eddie, sometimes the kids), no use of y/n, specific warnings will be tagged per chapter
important note! this will be a very “low stakes” series (there’s not really a super specific storyline happening in this), and i’m really just gonna post for it whenever i’m in the mood/feel inspired for it. i already have a bunch of random ideas for this universe that i wanna eventually do, but requests are open for anything you wanna see with these roommates/besties<333 (also oneshots/blurbs will be posted non-chronologically but will be listed chronologically, so you can pretty much read in any order you want to!)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
fall 1985
love is a game (the one where you and steve have a “housewarming party”)
third street (the one at the diner in the middle of the night)
winter 1985
spring 1986
summer 1986
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fa-headhoncho · 7 months
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i need this man biblically
a stranger's heart without a home masterlist
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Pairing: rivals to friends with benefits slowburn Joel x F!Reader, Post-Outbreak
Fic Summary: Sleeping with Joel Miller was supposed to be a one time thing. When the older brother of your closest friend showed up in Jackson, you hadn't expected him to stay more than a day. You'd both given into a brief moment of passion before he left, and that was the end of that. It didn't matter, you were never going to see him again. Then Joel returns a few months later, and screws up everything about the comforting life you had established in Jackson.
Fic Tags: One Night Stands, Rivals into Friends with Benefits, Emotional Slow Burn (really slow), Eventual Romance, Mutual Pining Idiots, Angst & Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family (lots of Tommy & Reader and Dina & Reader friendships), Long Chapters
Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader around 30, Joel 56) Themes of Grief/PTSD/Depression with mentions of death (family members, both Reader and Joel) that can be heavy at times, Specific Warnings in each Chapter
Status: Complete
ao3 link
official art by @cynibuns
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chapter 1: I am not the only traveler
chapter 2: the holidays linger like bad perfume
chapter 3: do I wanna know if this feeling flows both ways (18+ Smut)
chapter 4: there it is again, that funny feeling
chapter 5: break the silence; damn the dark, damn the light
chapter 6: and I'll never see you again if I can help it (18+ Smut)
chapter 7: look at us, you and I, back at it again (18+ Smut)
chapter 8: maybe I don't quite know what to say, but I'm here in your doorway
chapter 9: I thought that you’d be here by now (18+ Smut)
chapter 10: can the killer in me tame the fire in you?
chapter 11: this slope is treacherous, this path is reckless (18+ Smut)
chapter 12: you take what you get, and you turn it into honesty
chapter 13: burned out flames should never reignite, but I thought you might take me home (18+ Smut)
chapter 14: he built a fire just to keep me warm
chapter 15: speak to me until your history’s no mystery to me
chapter 16: and it feels good to be known so well (18+ Smut)
chapter 17: baby, it's Halloween, and we can be anything (18+ Smut)
chapter 18: yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you (18+ Smut)
chapter 19: either I'm careless or I wanna get caught (18+ Smut)
chapter 20: with your boots beneath my bed; forever is the sweetest con (18+ Smut)
epilogue
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(listed in order of how they occur after the main fic)
morning after chapter 20
waking up to oral (18+ Smut)
painfully domestic (kisses to get their attention)
drunk kisses (18+ Smut)
lingerie & breeding kink (18+ Smut)
(epilogue takes place here)
not much I need (nonsexual intimacy)
kissing scars
easy, plaid-shirt mornings (18+ Smut)
would it be enough if I could never give you peace? (Reader's anxiety)
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chapter 13 sneak peek (Jealous!Joel's POV Date Scene)
chapter 13 scene (Jealous!Joel Smut after Date 18+)
chapter 13 cut endings (Angst af)
chapter 14 sneak peek (Reflection Joel's POV)
chapter 15 sneak peek (Totally Casual Drinks Between Friends)
chapter 16 sneak peek (Dina and Ellie Plan)
chapter 17 sneak peek (The Dance)
chapter 18 sneak peek (Joel Pines for You)
chapter 18 secret scene (Tommy finally fucking figures it out)
chapter 19 sneak peek (Tommy and Reader)
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fic playlist
MC playlist
Taylor-coded MC playlist (for my fellow Swifties!)
Joel POV playlist
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fa-headhoncho · 9 months
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Fireleaf Series Index
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Credits to @greeneyedivy for this gorgeous moodboard!
Tumblr is being a lil bitch, so I thought I would just recreate the series index completely.
Summary: A Lucien x Reader enemies-to-lovers series. You’re the second-eldest daughter of a wealthy, noble Autumn Court family, and when your father strikes an agreement with Beron Vanserra, you find yourself arranged to marry the second-eldest Vanserra brother. But it’s the youngest Vanserra, Lucien, who really catches your eye.
✨ - indicates smut
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six✨
Part Seven✨
Part Eight
Part Nine✨
Part Ten
Part Eleven✨
Part Twelve
Part Thirteen✨
Part Fourteen
Part Fifteen✨
Part Sixteen
Part Seventeen
Part Eighteen
Part Nineteen✨
Part Twenty
Part Twenty-One
Part Twenty-Two ✨
Part Twenty-Three
Linden and Eris Bonus Chapter ✨
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fa-headhoncho · 9 months
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There was a lot to be said about your best friend, Bucky. You admired his tenacity and grit, as well as his all-encompassing adoration and love for those close to him, which you had admired and been in awe of. It didn't help the fact that you longed to be the one he stared at with such tenderness; you just missed the moments that he had.
Collection Pairing ☤ Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Collection Warnings ☤ Swearing, pet names, angst, fluff Author's Note ☤ This menace has been in my drafts since maybe March of 2023 in light of an anniversary, and now I think I am ready for him to shine. All entries are written with a Chronic Illness effected F!Reader in mind, but it can be read as a 'normal' F!Reader.
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𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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𝐀𝐎𝟑 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤
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𝑨 - angst  |  𝑾 - whump  |  𝑫 - dark  |  𝑭 - fluff  |  𝑺 - smut
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These are in timeline order - this is subject to change as I add entries.
𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐀𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ☤ 𝑨 + 𝑭
It was a trope that you had read over and over in books – never once did you think it would apply to you, and you’d be stuck in the same vicious circle of pining over your best friend, Bucky. But then, he came home one night after a rough shift, grief-stricken and in pain, and he proceeded to change everything.
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𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒
𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 | 𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭
𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 | 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭
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𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐒 / 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒
Collection Playlist
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Graphics made by yours truly!
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fa-headhoncho · 9 months
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All I Really Want Is You
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older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader - a slow burn series of blurbs | modern au!
🎶All I really want is you, what would you do? Laying in the rain with you, middle of June🎶
summary: In between summer days, when the sun barely touches the sky, when no one else is awake, you start to fall in love.
this mini series takes place over the course of one summer and is told in blurbs of your late night and early morning run in’s with your handsome neighbor.
warnings: 18+ for my blog and smut in later parts of the story. age gap: reader is 30 and steve is 42, drinking, smoking (steve smokes cigars), mentions of death (peep the widower), steve is not a dad in this one. sorry to my jenny crew.
authors note: Just something that popped in my head and spiraled. I haven’t written a series in a long time because I find it too intimidating. So I’m trying something new with these little blurbs of these two. Each one will be between 1k-3k long. // updated weekly.
SERIES PLAYLIST
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Welcome to the neighborhood
Fancy meeting you here
Mr. fix it
Good morning & good night
Whiskey & cigars
I don’t know you, but I want to
Bad idea
Red, white, & boom - 8/9
Ask me what I’m thinking about
Baby, I’m yours
Epilogue
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fa-headhoncho · 9 months
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PLEASE 😭😭😭🥵🥵🥵
Best Kept Secret ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ A MANDALORIAN SERIES MASTERLIST
✩ a bodyguard!din x princess!reader ongoing fic ✩
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☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
series summary :
Married off to a prince on a planet that you hate? New husband doesn't know you, and doesn't want to know you? New husband gifts you a personal Mandalorian body guard as a wedding present? Mandalorian is a wiseass who won't leave you alone? Lucky you.
do you like kitschy, campy romance novels? if you're reading this, I hope so.
ao3 link
✩ chapters containing smut
chapter one : honeymoon
chapter two : silent treatment
✩ chapter three : the smitten paladin
chapter four : sarad'ika
✩ chapter five : lunar interlude : just a man
✩ chapter six : torment
✩ chapter seven : just friends
chapter eight : solar markets
✩ chapter nine : shuk'la rules
✩ chapter ten : lunar interlude : briikase gote'tuur
chapter eleven : he loves me not
chapter twelve : pretend
chapter thirteen : lunar interlude : vercopa
chapter fourteen : condemned
chapter fifteen : two tea parties
chapter sixteen : absolution
chapter seventeen : the apostate’s cabin
chapter eighteen : portrait of a man
✩ chapter nineteen : reverence
✩ chapter twenty : like real people do
chapter twenty one : te mirci't (coming soon)
chapter twenty two : hide and seek (coming soon)
chapter twenty three : lunar interlude: riduur (coming soon)
chapter twenty four : te vencuyot (coming soon)
chapter twenty five : lunar markets (coming soon)
best kept secret will be thirty five chapters in total (potentially a couple longer depending on circumstance) and unreleased chapter titles are subject to change
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fa-headhoncho · 1 year
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Unlike The Rest: Gits
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(Eventual) George Weasley x Malfoy!Reader
Prompt: The announcement of the Tri-Wizard tournament creates drama.
Word Count: 1894
Reader: Female
Warning: None
Author’s Note: Where are all the George Weasley fanfics? I'm back in my HP phase and I've already read all of them. AO3 too. This was written before I fell off the face of the Earth too so no promises my skills are up to par.
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
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You let out a chuckle as you watch the boys become mesmerized. The ladies of Beauxbatons let out sighs and dreamy looks as they parade down the center of the Great Hall. They were indeed angel-like creatures but the reaction was a bit overdramatic. The boys are drooling, hooting, and standing. It was quite entertaining, honestly. You take a glance over at the Gryffindor table, the look on Ron’s face sends you into fits of giggles.
Next, the boys of Durmstrang come through the doors. Well, men of Durmstrang. Whatever is in their water in the north, you need it here. The men are doing flips, twisting their staffs and it’s very entrancing. This time, the girls are the ones drooling. They were, indeed, very attractive. What catches you off guard, though, is the last two people who enter.
Viktor Krum and Igor Karkaroff.
Your mouth opens slightly, staring at the two. Viktor Krum was a legend himself, just recently coming out of the Quidditch World Cup. You honestly didn’t realize how young he was. There are whispers and gasps echoing throughout the room. But, you’re not focused on him. 
Igor Kararoff was known for all the wrong reasons. You’ve heard his name whisper throughout your household for a few months now. Doing some research during the first few months back at school, you’ve learned his history. He was a Death Eater, being one of the ones who were sent to Azkaban. He was only pardoned because he gave up the names of his fellow Death Eaters. Maybe he was a changed man, but with the attack that just happened, you were still a bit nervous that he was here.
“Oi, looks like (Y/N) has her eye on someone.” Alfred points out causing the guys around you to sound off while the girls go straight to whispering. Cedric just laughs and shakes his head at his friends, the idea humoring him. “Malfoy and Krum, an interesting pair that would be.” He continues, you roll your eyes at their assumptions.
Switching your focus from the performance, you look past them to the Gryffindor table once again. Ron had a starstruck expression on her face while Hermione had a glare, you were glad to see she recognized the former Deatheater as well. Scanning further, a particular redhead duo catches your eye.
The twins were in deep conversation, Fred gesturing adamantly as George hung his head in defeat. You furrow your eyebrows, wondering what they were talking about to make George so uncharacteristically shy. He then raises his chin slightly, making eye contact with you and panicking. He quickly hits his brother on the shoulder before gesturing towards you. Fred turns and smirks, saying something to him before sending you a goofy wave and forcing George to send one too. It causing you to let out a giggle before smiling back at them.
Cedric watches the whole thing, noticing the small blush that comes onto your face when you made eye contact with the taller ginger. He shakes his head fondly at you, “I’m sure you already have eyes on someone particular.” He slyly comments and nods his head toward the said person. 
A small smile appears on your face as you shake your head at him. Cedric knew of your crush on George and loved to tease you about it. He was the first to figure it out and the first to point out anything remotely flirtatious that went on between the two of you. He was a cheerleader for the complicated relationship you had with the ginger, supporting your continuous breakdowns about him over the years.
And, oh, were there many.
Without realizing it, you were absently staring right at George as you thought about the time you realized you had a crush on him. It was back in fourth year, Fred and Lee had disappeared in the crowd on the way to Hogsmeade so it left the two of you alone. You spent the whole day together, laughing and having fun. You didn’t even remember your two friends who abandoned you in the first place.
When you came back tothe dorms, you found Cedric sitting in the common room with a muggle book in his lap. He chuckled as you nervously blurted out your newly discovered feelings about the ginger, relieved that you finally figured it out.
A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips, looking back on the fond memory. George turns his head and makes eye contact with you once again. You share a dumb smile before he sends a wink your way. Cedric lets out a booming laugh when you start getting flustered. Your face flames up and you turn away, mumbling stuff under your breath about how unfair it was to be that attractive.
Cedric sets a gentle hand on your shoulder, patting it comfortingly. You let out an exasperated sigh and fall into his chest, “He’s going to be the death of me, Cedi.”
“I’m sure you’ll die happy then.”
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The castle already felt overcrowded with the extra bodies and they haven’t even been there for twelve hours; the rush back to the dorms after the announcement last night was ridiculous. You almost got trampled over three different Durmstrang hoards. You weren’t as lucky as Collin Creevey, poor boy got crushed by a sea of Beauxbeatons girls.
The great hall was surprisingly empty for having the additional schools being there. Most people were either showing their new friends around, sleeping in, or waiting around the cup to see who has the bravery to put their name in. It was nice to have a break from the chaos that occurred in such a short amount of time.
The twins immediately spot you once you walk through the doors of the Great Hall as if they’ve been waiting for you all morning. They wave you over, the mischievous smiles on their faces make you want to turn around and pretend you never came down here.
The boys separate and make room for you on the bench, allowing you to sit in your unspoken designated spot between the two. “Good morning, boys.” You mumble a greeting before reaching for a pancake.
“Mornin’.”
“Well, don’t you look rather ravishing today?” Fred compliments once you're settled with a plate full of food. “Doesn’t she, George?”
“I’ve never been graced with anyone more beautiful in my presence.” He dreamily says, gently pushing a piece of hair out of your face. You freeze in confusion, the dry pancake hanging out of your mouth as their words process in your tired brain. Ravishing? You were still in your pajama pants and sweatshirt that you were certain was your brother’s. Beautiful? Your hair was in disarray, more strands were out of your ponytail than in it by this point.
This wasn’t out of character for George, but Fred? You couldn’t recall the last time he complimented a sweater you wore. Realization washes over you when you put the two together...
“What do you two gits want?” You spit out and going back to your food. Fred lets out his infamous offended scoff, pressing a hand to his chest which makes you roll your eyes. You stab at the breakfast at your plate as you wait for them to answer. They silently communicate over your head, sending each other looks and mouthing words. “Just let it out, will ya.”
“So, we’ve been thinking--”
“--That’s never good--” You immediately quip while looking over the rim of your cup, hiding the smile that appears when Fred rolls his eyes.
“We, the brave and daring Gryffindors we are, would like to enter the Triwizard tournament.” The older ginger announces and you to choke on the pumpkin juice. “So, we are trying to make an age potion. We have the base of the potion but we are having trouble with the rest.” He pulls out a muggle notebook and a pencil, a list of the ingredients and directions ripped out of a book taped to it. “So, we need your expertise.”
“Are you guys mental?” You immediately scold, an onslaught of worrying thoughts flooding your brain. “There is no reason for the two of you to put your name in that cup. You would be risking your lives for what? Get your name out there? People already know the people behind the outrageous pranks.”
Fred opens his mouth to defend himself but is cut off by you continuing your ranting. You were absolutely fuming at them. How could they put themselves in danger like this? People knew who they were and they shouldn’t risk their lives for a dumb prize. “You guys aren’t even old enough to put your name in the cup, why do you think you could win it if you even got in the damn thing?”
“And Cedric can?” Fred dares to challenge you. The grip on your cup tightens at the mention of Cedric planning to put his name in the cup. You honestly didn’t want him to but you knew if he got picked he would kick ass. He’s excelled at all his classes and he has shown how talented he can be. Cedric wanted to volunteer for the challenge, not the rewards.
“Cedric has been at the top of our class since first year. He’s proven himself worthy on many occasions and has the mental capacity to handle the challenges they put him through. You two are not Cedric.” You simply state, voice scarily steady. It’s not that you didn’t think they had the skill to survive, it’s just that you were scared to lose them. Yea, you were scared to lose Cedric as well, but you knew his passion would perceive above all. “What do you guys even want to be in it for?”
“The money.” Fred instantly answers, you let out a scoff. You knew their dreams of opening a joke shop but risking their lives when there was an easier way to do that was not the way to go.
“You guys are so stupid.” You shake your head and get up out of your seat. You couldn’t stand to be in the same room in fear that you would snap and say something you would regret later. “I can’t believe you two would risk your lives for a little bit of cash.”
“We don’t have money as you do, Malfoy, so I don’t even want to hear it.” Fred has the audacity to continue the argument as George stares down at his food. “Some of us have to work harder to afford what we want.”
You physically flinch at his direct insult to your family. It takes you back to the time your first year when the feud between the three of you was at its peak. It made your blood boil, “Well, Weasley, don’t come crying back to me when you’re on your deathbed because you use the last two of your combined brain cells to enter yourself in the most dangerous competition in Wizarding history.” And with that, you turn on your heel and storm down the aisle. A few people’s heads turn your way but you don’t pay mind to them. It was a matter of life or death when it came to the Tri-Wizard tournament and those two numb skulls didn’t see the severity of it.
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