#and I have to figure out what to do with my life now that I’m too sick to be a teacher

[badjokesbyjeff]

There were three race horses; ernie, bill, and ted. 

the three of them were good friends; they enjoyed racing each other and generally won and lost to each other equally. every evening, after the races, they went to a local bar to relax and drink some beer. they would often discuss racing techniques, their families, etc.

one season, bill wasn't doing so well. he rarely beat the other two, and was worried that he'd be sent to the glue factory if his luck didn't change. one night, at the bar, he talked with ernie and ted about it.

"you know, guys, i just can't figure it out," he said. "everything's fine at home; the kids are doing great, my wife is being nice, the bills are paid, my mother-in-law rarely visits - nothing could be better. maybe i'm just getting old. if things don't pick up soon, they'll send me to the glue factory."

the bartender, a big llama from peru, overheard the conversation. he looked around, to make sure nobody else was listening, then said, "hey, pal, i got something for you that'll make you feel like a young colt again." he reached under the bar and pulled out an unlabeled bottle of beer. "here, drink this; i guarantee you'll start winning again. come by each night for a week and I'll give you one. if it doesn't work, i'll give you double your money back!"

bill looked at ernie and ted, who only shrugged, then drank the contents of the bottle. "oh, just one thing," the llama said, "it'll make your ass itch, but that's okay; it's just a side effect. don't worry about it." the three horses stayed a few hours, played a few games of pool and darts, and went home.

over the course of the next three days, they went back to the bar each night, and bill continued the regimen of mystery beer. his racing times did improve! he was slowly moving back up in the rankings, and was soon back into the top three with ernie and ted. bill was ecstatic, and thanked the llama profusely.

"hey, my pleasure," said the llama.

a few weeks passed by, and ernie started slowing down. after losing three races in a row, he sobbed to himself, "i just don't get it. my life couldn't be better. i can't believe I'm getting old! they'll send me to the glue factory if i don't get back in the groove!"

that evening, at the bar, he told the llama bartender about his troubles, and asked if he too could try the mystery beer. "okay, but remember, it'll make your ass itch - but don't pay it no mind. it's just a harmless side effect."

"no problem. it'll be worth it to get back in the groove," ernie said.

a few days went by. ernie's ass did indeed itch, but after a few more days, his races improved, and he was back in the top three with bill and ted.

at the bar one evening, ernie bought a round of beers for all the horses, and thanked the llama profusely.

"i just can't believe how great that mystery beer worked!" ernie said. "you're sitting on a gold mine, there!" the llama said it was his pleasure, don't worry about it, etc.

a few more weeks went by, and now ted started slowing down, losing races. he, too realized that he'd be shipped off to the glue factory unless his races improved.

"say," he said to the llama one night after a particularly humiliating loss, "i think i need to try that mystery beer too. they'll ship me off to the glue factory for sure if I don't start winning again."

"no problem," the llama said, pulling out an unlabeled bottle. "here. come back every night, and i guarantee you'll be back in top form again, or i'll give you double your money back."

over the course of the next few weeks, ted's races continued to improve until he was back in the top three with bill and ernie. he pranced into the bar, full of vim and vigor, and thanked the llama profusely. "you know, my ass itches a lot; it's almost unbearable. but i can't thank you enough. they would have turned me into glue by now if it weren't for you. anything you want, let me know and i'll see what i can do."

"no problem," said the llama, "i make this beer at home using an ancient inca recipe. it's just my way of thanking my regular customers for their patronage over the years."

"i'm not kidding," ted said, "this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. anything, you name it, anything you want, let me know, and it's yours."

"well, now that you mention it..." the llama began -

right then, a greyhound walked up to the bar. he was obviously depressed.

"barkeep, give me something strong. i'm on a losing streak you wouldn't believe," the greyhound said.

ted looked at the greyhound, then at bill and ernie, and said, "hey, look! a talking dog!"

#funny #jokes #humor #lol #comedy

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 10

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: have a wondeful thursday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Queen Jazlene slumps against her chair. She’s barely awake as her eyes glaze over. Despite your deflections at serving her, she’d drunk herself to excess, swiping away goblets that weren't hers. Her constant imbibition has not been missed by her husband. Slanted looks and gristly whispers did little to deter her, your own gentle girding only fuelling her irritation. 

The king stands, stepping forward to overshadow his slouching queen. He raises a hand to the remaining crowd; the clumsy and drunken dancers, the chittering ladies, and the boasting lords. They turn their attention to him and hush. 

“So I must retire for the night, I bid you all a hearty rest,” he pronounces, “and may tomorrow see a brighter sun shine upon us all.” 

A hurrah is sent up in return and the king waits until the large hall falls back into its previous din. He turns slowly, his head down, and flares his nostrils at his queen. His golden eyes skim up and down the table. 

“Come,” he takes her hand, “let us get you abed.” 

Jazlene yawns and hiccups. She does not resist as he tugs her to her feet, though she teeters once upright. He swiftly hooks his arm around her, keeping her away from the view of the hall. He huffs heavily and ushers her around the bench. 

“Maid,” he demands over his shoulder. 

You follow as he carries on, finding a door behind the high table. The dimness of the corridor fogs around his figure as Jazlene’s slippers begin to drag. She babbles and gurgles. 

“I warned you not to drink so much,” he mutters, “why can you not obey? Why can you not just do what is best for you?” 

You tread behind them silently. The king falters and grunts, scooping up his wife before she can slip further down his arm. As he lifts her, her head lolls back over his thick bicep. He growls and presses onward. 

As he reaches her chamber door, you come around to open it for him. He doesn’t say a word as he enters and you wait near the entrance as he lays Jazlene down on the bed. She is very silent and still, only the subtle rise and fall of her chest suggesting a glimmer of life. 

You peer around as the king looms over her, his hand on the post of the bed as he simmers at her. His other arm bends as he rubs the bridge of his nose. You go to the vanity and take the now cool basin of water. You reach into your apron pocket as you hug the large bowl and cross to the bed. 

You pull out a cloth as you sit on the edge of the mattress and balance the bowl against your bent leg. You wet the fabric and lean over the queen to wipe her face. The kohl around her eyes has begun to smear and a sheen of sweat layers over her rich skin. You sense the king watching your deliberate tending. 

“You are good to her,” he remarks. 

“She will not feel well in the morning,” you say, “I will make sure she has water to drink and a warm compress when she wakes, your highness.” 

He’s quiet as he considers your words, “you will stay with her?” 

You wring out the cloth and fold it over the edge of the basin before moving it back to the vanity. You face the king and clasp your hands over your apron, “she cannot be alone when she has drunk so much. Once...” you shake your head and let the statement taper out, “your highness, she will need me.” 

“Hmm,” he pulls his hand off the post, pacing around the end of the bed and turn towards you, “once what?” 

“Nothing, your highness. It was only a memory I had. It doesn’t matter now.” 

“I would like to hear it,” he insists. 

You swallow down the dryness in your throat, “your highness, well, her mother, the duchess, she is the same about wine. Once she drank overly much that she did not wake when her stomach revolted. If we’d not been there to watch over her, she might have choked on it.” 

“Ah, yes,” he stops, just a step away, “that would be unfortunate. I will thank you then for keeping a close eye on my lady wife.” 

“As is my duty, your highness.” 

His eyes blaze down at you and he shifts on his feet, “but will you sleep?” 

“Me? I rest in the cart--” 

“We will not leave on the morrow, I have business yet in the capital,” he explains, “when the lady is awake, you will make certain she is conscious, then you will go and seek rest of your own.” 

“Your highness, how generous, but she would need to break her fast, and dress anew, perhaps bathe--” 

“There are other maids in this castle. I am commanding you to retire for the day. You will need strength for our pending departure,” he bids, “to serve your queen upon the road.” 

You bow your head, apologetic, “your highness, I did not mean to argue. Certainly, I will do as you say. Thank you for minding me.” 

He inches forward and your shoulders slant as you shrink for his closeness. You see his thick fingers twiddle at his side and his hot breath blasts over you like a brazier. He cautiously bends his arm and touches the front of your apron. You quiver as you watch his calloused hand climb up the stained fabric. He pauses and shudders, pinching the loose thread poking out from the belt. He pulls it loose and rolls it between his fingertips. 

“You will have new clothes,” he backs away, feeling the thread, twisting it, “you are a queen’s maid now. Not some castle sweep.” 

You squeeze your hands tighter as you stare at his tunic, “yes, your highness. Thank you anon.” 

He turns on his sole reluctantly and looks upon the bed. You follow his gaze to his subdued wife. He hangs his head and puts his back to you before he pivots toward the door. He stalks toward it and pulls it open with enough strength to make the hinges whine. 

“Good night, little maid,” he drawls just before the door snaps shut in his stead. 

You raise your eyes completely and stare at the heavy wooden slats of the door. Your chest is knotted so tight you can hardly breathe. The king’s displeasure lingers even his absence. Is he unhappy with his inebriate wife or is it you? You quickly dismiss the latter. You don’t matter so much. No, his marriage is not an easy one thus far. 

⚔️

You only know Queen Jazlene is awake as she spits bile onto the floor. Her head hangs over the side of the bed as she wretches and spews, coughing and gagging until she goes limp and groans. The acidic smell permeates the chamber and you come forward to clean it away with a cloth. 

Once you’ve sopped up the mess, you leave her to dispose of the smelly rags and return with a cool, fresh basin and a new cloth. You help her onto her back, propping her against the pillows and clean her face anew. She moans as she keeps her eyes closed, a ripple in her forehead. 

“Too bright,” she mutters. 

“I will draw the curtains, your highness,” you assure her as you rescind the cloth and rise to do so. 

She winces as you pull the heavy drapes together and groans, “my husband... did he not see back to my chamber?” 

“He carried you here, your highness,” you explain, “you were not feeling well.” 

“Mm, I still do not,” she decries. 

“Shall I call for a bath?” You suggest. 

“Do what you will but be quiet,” she hisses as she shades her eyes beneath her long fingers. 

She gurgles as she sinks down and rolls upon her side. She curls up and you stare at her back. You go to the door and ease it open. You emerge and pass between the guards without. You are no more than a draught to them. As you approach the stairs, your name is called from ahead. You peer down the next corridor. 

“Eh, there you are,” Bryce approaches. You can tell by the shine in his hair that he has bathed, “and what mission has you so intent?” 

“I am to fetch lemon water for the queen. She has a sour stomach,” you say and turn back to the steps.  

The soldier descends apace with you and chortles, “as she would. She can drain an ewer like no other I’ve seen.” 

“Mm,” you hum grimly. 

“Ah, pardon, I do not mean to be cruel,” he says, “it is only... often we reap what we sow, yes?” 

“I suppose,” you allow. 

“Speaking of, mouse, it is your turn to reap,” he spins and stretches his arm across your path, “king’s orders.” 

You shake your head in confusion. 

“The queen--” 

“I will send another for her lemon water. But our dear liege and lord has bid that you rest your head. And I do concur. You are only mortal, little mouse.” 

“But I must--” 

“Obey your king,” he insists and rescinds his arm, crossing it with his other across his chest. “I’ve been given leave to treat you as prisoner if ye resist but I do not wish to go so far.” 

You frown. You recall the night before. The king’s orders are not forgotten but you thought perhaps they mightn’t be standing. You bow your head and press your palm to your stomach, another memory flitting through your mind. The king’s hand brushing along the belt of your apron. 

“I’ve acquired you a fine chamber,” Bryce says. “Gods, how could one ever be so glum about a bed of their own?” 

“Sir, I am not unhappy,” you counter. “I am...” you lift your head, “tired.” 

“Oh, how the fates align,” he quips, “come then. There is a bath and new dress too. I was too kind to mention it but you were starting to smell a bit too close to Daisy.” 

You can’t but laugh and snort, “hey!” 

“May as well take benefit in staying still,” he says, “now, let us hurry before the water is cold.” 

You acquiesce and follow him away from the kitchen. You hope Jazlene is not discontent with your straying. You walk along several corridors and up to the second floor again. You do not expect to stop at one of thick doors meant for nobility. 

“In here,” Bryce takes out an iron key and unlocks the door. He pushes it open and steps back. “I will come in an hour to look in on you but I trust by then you will be abed.” 

“Yes, sir, thank you,” you affirm. 

“Be certain to have some of the food,” he orders you, “much better than the goat meat I’ve been chewing on.” 

You thank him one last time and enter on your own. He closes the door behind you and you hear the lock twist. The loud grind of cogs does not unsettle you. It’s rare you ever have a moment of solace, though often you feel alone. 

You look around the chamber. It is much too grand for you. There is a wide bed at one end with a long canopy. The window lets in a warm breeze as the steam coiling from the large tub dampens the air. The furniture here is just as fine as that in the queen’s rooms. 

You meander around and stop before the covered tray on the round table. You lift the lid and reveal an assortment of fruit and cooked oats drizzled with honey. Your stomach roars and clenches painfully. Without a thought, you sit on the stool to gulp the porridge from the brim. You empty near half the bowl before you stop to catch your breath. 

You pluck at the citrus and devour the fruit with delighted purrs. When you have glutted your hunger to the point of discomfort, you lick your lips and rise. You near the tub as untie your apron. Your body aches for the heat of the water. 

You leave the layers of your filthy garments on the floor and step into the depths. You sigh as you lower yourself in. Relief seeps through your flesh and enshrines you. You lay back for a time and bask in the calm. Before the water can cool, you sit up to scrub yourself clean. 

When you finish, you climb out and pull on the shift folded on the top of the stack; a dress, and apron, stockings, and even shoes. There is no cap. You fish around your disposed clothing and retrieve your own. You soak it in the bathwater, wringing it out until it’s not so browned. 

A knock comes at the door. You sit on the edge of the mattress and call to the visitor, “hello?” 

“Eh, it’s me,” Bryce’s salty timbre comes through the wood, “you sleep now, mouse.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

He taps the door and you hear his footsteps fade away. You recline across the bed and stare up at the canopy. You close your eyes but your stomach is uneasy. You don’t know why. The bed is too soft, the linens too fluffy. 

You puff and sit up. You get to your feet and circle around the bed to the short bench across the foot of it. You tuck yourself onto the barely cushioned wood and bend your legs to fit. You fold and arm under your head. Much better. 

It isn’t very long before you succumb to your fatigue. You don’t realise how tired you truly are until you’re buried in sleep. Heavy and dark, almost suffocating. 

Behind your eyelids, you see streaks of colour, curling and rolling into visions. Shadowy forests and endless roads, the clop of horse hooves, the rattle of axles, and the crunch of boots in the dirt. The preening whine of the Queen as she splashes wine across your face. You gasp through the acrid sprinkle and fall backwards into air.  

You land on a heap of hay. You’re back in Debray, in the barn where you would flit away with Merinda to eat or even steal a nap. She would watch at the window and you would doze or nibble. You look over but do not see her. Instead, another stands at the opening.  

The king’s silver white hair hangs in waves down his muscled back. He wears only breeches as he stares off into the distance. The window greys with a storm beyond, pulsing from shades of dove feather to harrowing black. He faces you and his golden eyes glow like a wolf’s. 

You sit up and whimper. He prowls closer and closer, thunder crashing as a great gust blows through the barn. Then all at once, the tempest subsides and the wooden walls turn to stone. You’re trapped beneath something unbreakable, like iron, wrists bound. You look at your arms, pinned by large hands. You look above you and find yourself straddled beneath the king. 

He leans in, closer and closer, his fiery breath razing over you. 

“Little maid...” 

His growl snakes around your neck and you wake with a start. The bench teeters as you sit up, your hand gripping your forehead. You blink and look around, clearing the haze from your sleepy eyes. 

Just as in your dream, you are not alone. 

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au #winter's king #the witcher

[icyg4l]

PAC: How Can You Attract More Clientele?

hello beautiful people! i wanted to do something different today! this is for my business owners out there, this one is for you. if you need some extra reassurance/advice on how to gain more traction, this is for you. without further ado, please pick the image that resonates with you the most.

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-4)

Pile One: I heard “something’s brewing” as I was shuffling for this pile. Pile One, do you know how lucky people are to have your talents in this world? Why don’t you take your talents where they belong? I feel like you aren’t really pushing yourself the way that you’re supposed to. You’re all talk but when it comes down to actually putting in the work, you get scary. There’s no point in planning for the future if you don’t live in it. So do what you have to do in order to be known! Another thing about you is that there’s some shame around your work. It’s like you’re embarrassed to show off your stuff so you’ll just hand it off to people that you know and when you get compliments, you won’t necessarily take them as one should. You need to celebrate your work forreal. Your work needs to be seen. You need to be around other creative people so that you can have personal muses in your life. You need to know that your talents will be recognized as long as you let them. All in all, in order to attract clientele, you need to be willing to put yourself out there.

Cards Used: Princess of Swords, The Hermit, Prince of Cups, Knight of Swords, 2 of Wands, 7 of Swords.

extras: shuffle. coffee brewer. sodastream. alliteration. mime. pasties. original invention. 

Pile Two: Aggressive marketing is a tactic that you need to take on, Pile Two. This is a pile similar to Pile One in the sense that you are being too coy. I am seeing a fast-paced work environment. You deliver your products fast and you come up with ideas pretty fast. The thing is though, you do not really sell yourself. When I say this, I mean that you are too calm and humble with the way that you market yourself. People tend to overlook you because you’re not really showing off your product/brand. Invest in your brand and you will see better results. If you have a TikTok or Instagram, I’m not going to lie, talking fast or talking in a bubbly manner will help your clients flock to you. I am feeling a little chaotic right now as I type this. I feel like you need to unleash your chaotic side into this marketing. People would be more willing to buy the product if you show off your authentic energy. 

Cards Used: Four of Swords, Temperance (RX), The Devil (RX), The Hermit, 9 of Wands, Ace of Swords, Prince of Cups, Eight of Wands

extras: panda express. takeoff. funeral. egg sandwich. sadistic. clueless. “you are the visuals baby.”

Pile Three: There is nothing wrong with getting shit done, Pile Three. I feel like this pile thinks that they do everything right, or do you? I think you need to stop caring about the validation of other people. Do you actually like what it is that you’re doing/selling? Is it fulfilling to present this product to other people? If so, then you need to just be patient. You are very impatient to the process of gaining sales. You need to let more time pass. Your business hasn’t taken off because you do not let shit marinate. If you let time pass by, you would actually gain more clientele. As you await for this moment though, take everything as a learning experience. If you do not feel fulfilled/personally rewarded, then it is time for a rebrand. You need to figure out how this product resonates with you. What is your personal connection with it? How can you connect to other people through this product? What lasting impact do you want to leave on people? I also see that you do need to get involved with people offline as well. Posting flyers up around your neighborhood would really benefit you, my love. 

Cards Used: The Emperor, Strength, 4 of Swords, The Devil, The Hanged Man, Judgment, Prince of Wands, Queen of Discs 

extras: orlando. drill rap. ohio. “earthy scents.” twisted tea. green giant. 

Pile Four: I actually feel like this pile is super close to meeting their goal number of clients. You have been putting in the right amount of work and therefore, you have been getting rewarded. But you need to learn how to network. I feel like this pile just needs to be at the right place at the right time. If you find yourself getting invited to an event that needs your skills, you should check it out. It’ll be the key to your big break. I also think that you should consider trading with other creatives to gain more clientele. Consider promoting other creatives’ work so that more people can come to you. I think it really all comes down to the timing of it all. But your time is pretty soon. You’re already eating good but soon you’ll be eating real good. There’s not really much you have to do but just show yourself off. 

Cards Used: Wheel of Fortune. The Magician. Queen of Discs. King of Wands. 7 of Discs. King of Discs. The Emperor.

extras: dill pickle. onion rings. pastel colors. breakfast foods. sizing issues.

#law of assumption #manifesting #neville goddard #tarot #tarotreading #astro notes #hoodoo #pick a card #pick a pile #divination #tarot tumblr #tarot witch #free tarot #daily tarot #tarot deck #tarot reading #tarot cards #pick an image #tarot pac #pick a reading #pac reading #tarot pick a card #tarot pull #spirituality #black tarot readers #tarot community #kpop tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 30, Epilogue - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 634

Previously On...: You and Bucky are probably going to be okay.

A/N: IT'S OUT EARLY!

This is it! The last chapter! OMG!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

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10 Months Later

“I refuse to accept this.”

“Well, unfortunately, Boss, it’s my decision to make, not yours,” you told Tony as you finished stacking up the last of your moving boxes. Sixteen years– almost half of your life, now condensed into neat stacks of cardboard, waiting to be loaded into the van that was waiting downstairs.

“What the hell am I supposed to do without you?” Tony asked, dramatically flinging himself on your now bare mattress. “How am I supposed to survive?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “It’s not like you won’t see me every fucking day, dude,” you admonished him. “I still work here, for fucks’ sake. Besides, you refused to let your realtor show me any place you couldn’t see from your terrace.”

“I thought it would be nice if we could wave to each other during breakfast,” he said, his face drawn into a pout now, “that’s all.”

You sat down next to him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s time to cut the umbilical cord, Tony,” you said. 

“But you’re still such a kiddo, Kiddo,” he sighed.

“I meant your umbilical cord, Boss,” you laughed. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll try it for a year or two, figure out I absolutely hate it, and come crawling back, begging for my old room.”

“Don’t press your luck,” Tony said, sitting back up. “I’ll probably turn it into a sauna, or an indoor golf simulator as soon as you walk out that door.”

“Ah, there’s the Tony I know and tolerate,” you said with a smile.

“I’m just going to miss having you around,” he said, his voice now laced with sadness. “Sixteen years together– probably the longest stable relationship I’ve ever had. It’s not going to be the same around here without you.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I’m going to miss you, too. But you know I need this. After everything that happened last year with Carthage, and Barnes… me spiraling, losing a baby I didn’t even know about, getting shot, and the… complications; all that shit with Steve. I just think I need a fresh start, some place where I’m not reminded of her every time I walk around a corner. It’s the only way I’m going to truly heal.”

“I told you I’d move you to another floor. Hell, I’ll tear down the entire Tower and start from scratch. We can build a whole new compound Upstate or something. You’d never have to set foot in this hallway again,” he said. And you knew he was telling the truth– there was little Tony wouldn’t do to ensure you were comfortable in your old home, but you couldn’t rely on him forever.

“You’ve saved me so many times already, Boss,” you said, looking back at him fondly, “and you know I’m always going to be thankful for that. But it’s time I started working on saving myself.”

“Well, when you make it sound all empowering and shit,” he began, “I start to feel like a dick for protesting.”

You laughed as your phone beeped. Looking at the message, you told him: “Movers are on the way up. I guess this is really it.” You both stood and embraced, Tony leaning down to speak softly in your ear.

“You know you always have a home here, Kiddo,” he said. “Whenever you need it. Even if it’s just for a night, or if you decide you want to come back for good. Door’s always open.”

“And even if it’s not,” you said as the two of you broke away from one another, “I can always hack the system to break myself in.”

“I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”

“You think Mr. Mitchell’s still practicing law?” you asked with a grin. “I can definitely afford to have him represent me, now.”

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[xonavia]

can you do a Dan Heng x fem! reader?

to elaborate: fem! reader is a famous singer — an interastral one, to be precise. she lives in Penacony and once in a year, she hosts this enormous party where you are able to do how flashy the lights are from the Astral Express. on Dan Heng’s side, he was only able to experience it once and got interested as to what it was, doing research and the more he did the research, the more he fell in love with the idol. now, for this year, with the Trailblazer who had managed to become one of the fem! reader’s bodyguards due to what was happening in Penacony with the deaths that were so random and sudden. not only that, the Trailblazer managed to become a trusted friend and they knew how much of a fan Dan Heng was since they managed to accidentally access Dan Heng’s tabs on the databank so to make it fair for him, they managed to get a free ticket into the VIP — front row seats, too! and to be able to get an autograph after.

-> I’m not entirely sure if this is what you meant, but I did try my best so if it’s not quite what you wanted just lmk and I’ll try to rewrite it to the best of my abilities!!

It was only once every year this happened, an interastral idol, (Name), would perform in Penacony. That was all the news was talking about the moment the astral express stepped inside penacony, of course, March being hip and knowing all the famous idols was so excited that right as they arrived was time for the yearly party and begged for them to go, but with the whole issue happening in penacony it didn’t seem like now would be the best time. But Dan Heng, still on the express, was confused as hell. What was with all the lights and sounds, he thought penacony was going through a crisis, not a party? It wasn’t until a couple days later when everybody else came back that he had figured out that it was a annual party, he didn’t think much of it until he had March blab about how much cool merch and stuff she saw in the stores how she got to witness the set up of the whole party, but to her demise never actually got to see the host. March talked about them in a way that was almost magical. Nothing bad, and it seemed like this “host” was almost like the nicest person in the galaxy? That’s what first got Dan Heng into his records to see what he could find out about you. It wasn’t long before he found some really interesting details about you, a picture, when the party took place every year, where it was, and anything along the lines if you had a partner, ya know, just for future reference!

Another year later the Astral Express was back in penacony, with more deaths and more issues, and ironically enough around the exact same time they were here the year before. Though this time it was about the party. As it was an annual party most of the people who were in town at the time were there for said party and if the party was canceled due to the issues people would start getting scared and the family would have to explain what was happening, which is the worst case scenario. So instead they invited the astral express back over and had the trailblazer act as a bodyguard for (Name) as it seemed one of the other hosts wouldn’t be there and they thought it was a plot to take out the party all together. Better safe than sorry. March was so excited when she realized that the trailblazer was able to actually meet one of the best people in the galaxy. Dan Heng was excited as well, but not like you could ever tell. He’d been reading up on you anytime he had the chance, he knew a lot about you and was very happy when he realized that they were able to go back to Penacony, not so much about all the issues that were happening, or the potential plot on your life.

A couple days later, and about a day before the party the trailblazer came back to the astral express he saw both March and Dan Heng sat on one of the couches watching the party from the year they were here last. They chuckled a little as they walked over, asking about what they were watching which March happily responded with

“The party from last year! I just found out that Dan Heng is actually a pretty big fan of (name)!”

Of course the trailblazer already knew that, they had been up a couple times and accidentally stumbled on Dan Heng researching about the party, and more specifically about you.

Trailblazer sat down with the other two and talked about how since (Name) had a couple extra tickets for friends and stuff and how they were already so grateful for them watching over them and making sure to keep them safe that now the astral express had 3 VIP tickets for the Party for the next day. March already started squealing, and pretty sure that they saw Dan Heng smile at the sight of the tickets.

The next day was the day of the party, and as packed as it was there was a small section that (Name) had told the trailblazer about when they gave them the tickets that were for VIP only so they wouldn’t have to wait in that huge line! But when they got into that section it led them straight to the front row. How freaking cool!

A couple hours after, the hosts and main people in charge were all walking around when you ran over towards the trailblazer, noticing them in the crowd and coming to say Hi, and thanks, again. When you walked over, March was awestruck at the sight of you right in front of her, and quickly asked for a picture to which you happily accepted and posed with her before the trailblazer realized that no way in hell would Dan heng every actually ask for something from you, so they took charge in their own hands by asking an autograph from you, which you of course were pleased to do, handing it to them with a smile, before you were pulled away again by one of the security guards, waving bye, before turning your attention to some of the other guests.

When they got back on the astral express, they all seemed really excited, well besides Dan Heng, but it’s hard to see through his facial features, but the way he was ever so carefully holding the sighed piece of paper from you, said a lot differently.

He was just hoping next year the astral express would come back, and maybe he could talk to you himself this time

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #dan heng x reader #dan heng #xonavia's writings!

[c0mbatchameleon]

hi anna my love would you mind telling us what the possession au is about 🥺🤲🏼💗

LUNEEE ABSOLUTELY ABSOFRUITLY I CAN.

Ok so the tldr here is James is a demon that possesses reg. This all came from a drunk 3am note in my phone about the “intimacy of literally inhabiting the same body, to become a singular noun; my thoughts are yours now, you don’t even know where you end and I begin, your soul would feel so empty without me here to fill in all the gaps” etc etc. Right ok. Long ramblings below, be warned.

So picture regulus, our resident high-strung control freak who has lived as a puppet on a string at the whims of his family ever since he was a teenager and they began staging him to join / eventually take over their major capitalist conglomerate empire or whatever. Iffy on the details still but there’s a lot of politics involved. Think like the richest of the rich in the world and they want to keep their family on the top—regulus is their vessel to do so.

And the thing is, he goes above and beyond. He gave up on trying to escape the life he’s been (to him) imprisoned in a long time ago, and his (perceived) lack of control and agency has only driven him to climb higher, hungry for even more disgusting amounts of wealth and power, fuck everyone else, he wants to be at the fucking top, and maybe then he’ll be free. He’s terrible and he’s miserable and he’s everything they wanted him to be, he feels like a slave to time and to the life that was carved out for him, and it manifests in him exerting extreme amounts of control over the one thing he can have some semblance of control over, which is his own body.

(slight tw for disordered / obsessive eating / body habits?)

Picture him scheduling his days down to the minute. He wakes up at 5:30am everyday after getting the exact amount of sleep to complete five rem cycles, he has a strict workout regimen every day perfectly planned out for the week, meals all the same mapped out down to the calorie. You’d think he’s in the army. His skincare routine puts patrick bateman to shame. He jerks off once a week cuz he thinks it has health benefits or keeps him sharp or something (if you’ve watched The End of the Fucking World I’m pretty sure this is where my brain subconsciously picked this from) and it’s mechanical and he’s dead in the eyes and he knows it will take him exactly 5 minutes and 8 seconds to come.

And then. Suddenly. He’s having weird dreams about some man he doesn’t know and they’re making him feel things when he has specifically trained his body to NOT feel things and what’s happening to him? And then dreams become daydreams. And then he’s losing time. HES LOSING TIME. Which is literally his worst nightmare. It’s making him fuckinf spiral, his routines are being thrown off, the small semblance of control is slipping, so he’s already at his wits fucking end when a goddamn voice in his head starts talking to him. Like that’ll do it.

But then the voice, the man, the figure from his dreams, James, is telling him to relax. Telling him you’re so wound up. I can feel it, you know? How tired you are. It’s okay baby, let me take the reins for the day. You just have to sit back up in that head of yours—of ours—and let it all turn to static for a bit. Don’t worry. I’ll give you your body back tonight. Don’t you trust me? Wouldn’t it feel good to just.. let go for a bit?

And eventually regulus discovers that it DOES feel good. He fucking loves it. He gives up control willingly for the first time, he lets James do it all for him, to move him around like a puppet in the most literal sense but it’s different from his family, from everyone else. It’s freeing.

and it’s like this weird corruption-anticorruption thing because yes james is influencing him and planting thoughts in his head and literally taking over his body at points but it’s all to make him do…kinda good things? “Fuck the company, don’t show up today, let’s go to the coast like you used to as a kid,” “don’t pick up the phone, I know you’ve never declined your mother’s call before, but just try. Don’t you feel powerful?” Until eventually reg is sabotaging the company, his family, he’s basically suicide-bombing the stock market, he’s giving all his money away, etc etc. he’s more free than he’s ever felt in his life and to the outside world he looks absolutely insane and, shit, maybe he is, but it feels fucking amazing.

I just love the thought of James’ more mundane influence on him too. He’s craving hot Cheetos for the first time in his life and absolutely appalled and confused and James is like “shit my bad I was thinking abt them.” James has him smoke weed for the first time (the scene I have planned for this……) and he has to take over to roll the joint for him. Why the fuck is reg enjoying abba music? But also—why the fuck is a demon enjoying abba music?

I’ve rambled way too much so I’ll reign it in there. Lots of details subject to change, but this is basically all I’m thinking abt these days.

#lovely lovely lune thank you for indulging me #I fear this response got away from me. forgive me—I’ve been possessed once again #fic / possession au #lune tag #mail #jegulus #jegulus fic #regulus black #james potter

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 13

Hey, guys do you all remember that period of time when I was working on this story but refused to show you snippets of it on WIP Wednesdays? Yeah, this is that chapter. (I'm pretty sure, anyway. Because this shit was super spoilery.)

We finally get what happened to Steve and why he didn't grow up as Pack. This chapter does get a little dark in its themes so be careful when you read and if you need specifics, DM me and I'll fill you in.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

****

Eddie and Wayne landed in front of their trailer with a deft touch. Eddie still wasn’t over the joy of being able to fucking fly. Like sure when he was younger, Wayne would take him for flights occasionally, but nothing beat banking on a breeze as the wind lifted him higher and higher.

“Your boy’s got a mouth on him,” Wayne said gruffly as he walked up the stairs to their trailer.

Eddie chuckled. “Always had. Even in school.”

Wayne huffed out a laugh. “True enough.”

As soon as they were safe inside, Eddie asked, “Hey, do you remember that couple who took Stevie in when his parents died?”

Wayne frowned. “You mean the Franklins?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

Eddie snapped his fingers. “Yeah, them. Why was Steve placed with them? And not, I don’t know, the pack?”

“Ah.”

Wayne went to the kitchen and pulled out a six pack of beers. “That’s a bit of story. Drink up, you’ll need it for this.”

Eddie opened up a can of beer and settled in for story time.

Wayne downed an entire beer and wiped his mouth off with his sleeve.

“Hopper had gotten bad,” Wayne began. “Like real bad.”

“You’ve mentioned that before. That was around the time I came to live with you, right?”

Wayne nodded. “It wasn’t just drinking. It was drugs, too. And not just weed, either. I’m talking the heavy stuff.”

Eddie nodded. He had sold said heavy stuff to Hopper just before he cleaned up with El coming into his life. When Wayne asked him why, Eddie told him that he had no idea what he was doing with it and honestly didn’t care.

Knowing what Eddie did now, he regretted it, but he was so close to being able to afford his Warlock that that was all he cared about at the time.

“Steve’s dad Clint Harrington was getting ready to challenge Hopper for the position of alpha,” Wayne continued. “He knew that he might kill Hopper, but at that point it probably would have been a mercy.”

Eddie nodded solemnly. Maybe if Clint Harrington had lived, lived to be the alpha, the town wouldn’t be experiencing the troubles it was now.

“So what happened?” he asked gravely.

“Allison’s father died out in New York,” Wayne said. “The timing of it was so suspect, Ed. Like, you know I hate conspiracies with every fiber of my being, because there rarely is one. But this smelled rank from the get go.”

“You think whoever had the Harringtons killed,” Eddie said, “you think also popped off Granpappy, too, don’t you?”

Wayne glared at him, but conceded the point. “Whatever happened to the Harringtons was bad, boy. Like their bodies were savaged–”

He stopped and his eyes went wide. “It was exactly like this morning. I couldn’t tell the scent then, just like I couldn’t now.”

Eddie nodded. “As near as I could tell, there wasn’t a scent to be had. Whatever it was who killed the Harringtons and attacked Patrick, didn’t leave behind a scent.”

“There are very few things in this world that leave a scent so minuscule I could barely detect it,” Wayne said.

Eddie nodded. “So what happened with Steve after they died?” He was interested in the other thing, but he was really worried about his boyfriend.

“The old mayor, Larry Kline and I,” Wayne said amused, “made the decision that the pack wasn’t safe for Steve. But despite what Steve thinks the Franklins weren’t human.”

Eddie frowned. “They weren’t?”

“They were Were too,” he said with wary tilt of his head. “Were-bat. We figured that with them being at least Weres would be able to teach him how to shift and how to shift back comfortably.”

“So what went wrong?” Eddie asked, moving closer to Wayne on the sofa. “Because holy hell, pops, if Steve had been human CPS would have been called and fast.”

Wayne drank more of his beer and then rubbed one eye with the other hand. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t. There were no indications that Steve was anything other than a kid who’s parents died and was adjusting to it. Yeah, he wasn’t exactly happy, but we didn’t expect him to be, you know?”

“So what changed?”

Wayne drank the last of his beer and set it on the coffee table. “They were away on a trip and I don’t know if they forgot, didn’t care, or planned it... but Steve wolfed out for the first in his entire life when he was eighteen.”

“What?!”

Weres were supposed to shift for the first time when they hit puberty. Early teens for most of them. But to not shift until you were eighteen was just begging for the Were to go insane.

“Fucking hell, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie groaned. “Whoever this is is playing a long ass game. Jesus Christ. They were hoping he would go crazy, ending the Harrington line for good. So what happened?”

Wayne licked his lips. “Steve ran to me. He was frightened. Terrified out of his mind. Old Mack nearly shot the poor bastard as he came tearing through the trailer park.”

“Jesus H. Christ...” Eddie whispered.

Wayne chuckled. “It wouldn’ve done shit, it was just a regular bullet, it wouldn’ve even slowed him down.”

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief. “So what stayed Mack’s hand then?”

“You’ve seen your boy in wolf form,” Wayne said, “can you imagine how beautiful he looked then? The cream of his under belly blending with the warm brown of his back and face as he tore down the gravel pavement?”

Eddie could imagine it in fact. Steve was gorgeous as a human, but as a werewolf? He was exquisite. It came from his mixed breeding of being born from another born werewolf and his turned wife. Born werewolves tended to be more timber wolf in their appearance. Almost dire wolf-esque. Big, with course fur and fierce. Bitten werewolves tended toward the smaller red wolves. Quick, slender, and cunning as hell.

Steve was a mix of these two breeds and it made him the most beautiful thing on four legs Eddie have ever scene.

“To fire at something so majestic would have been a travesty,” Wayne was saying when Eddie came back from his revery. “So Mack just stood there, rifle in hand as Steve made straight for my door.”

Eddie frowned. “Where was I? I don’t remember this.”

“You and your friends had gone to Indy for some concert or another,” Wayne said. “I don’t rightly recall.”

Eddie’s frown got deeper, he’d only gone to one concert with his friends in Indy because one of the ‘85 Hellfire Club members had gotten tickets for graduation and had taken all of them.

“Is that why you weren’t home when I got back into Hawkins?” he asked. “You were dealing with Steve?”

Wayne nodded and popped open another bottle of beer. He held one up to Eddie, but he shook his head. Eddie held up his still mostly full can. Wayne licked his lips.

“You’ll want to drink more of that,” he muttered.

Eddie did as he was told and it took the edge off of his anxiety but settled sour in his stomach.

“After I got Steve sedated,” Wayne said, “and yes it was fucked up I even had to in the first place, I went a paid the Franklins a visit.”

“That sounds ominous,” Eddie said flatly.

Wayne grinned. “They tried to tell me that they were frightened of Steve. That as a wolf he was much bigger than they were as bats. That all it would take was one snap of his giant jaw and they would be but a morsel to the boy.”

Eddie blinked at his uncle in confusion. “What now? His first change would have been a literal puppy. He wouldn’t have even been able toddle after them, let alone get within biting distance.”

Wayne huffed. “Right in one, boy. And if they had been teaching him from his first change on, he wouldn’t have thought of them as prey at all. Not even on moon nights.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“And then they tried to attack me,” Wayne continued.

“They did what?” Eddie squawked.

“They probably would have succeeded, too,” he said, “but apparently Steve is a hard wolf to keep down and followed me like a lost puppy. When he saw Dick Franklin raise a fucking yew stake to stab me in the back, Steve leapt on him.”

“Where the fuck did they get a yew stake?”

Wayne just shook his head. “The hell if I know, kid. But in comes this wolf and just snatches the damn thing out of Dick’s hand. He runs off with it Ella Franklin hot on his heels in bat form. Bats are fast and she catches up quickly. The problem is that in or out of bat form she knows she no match for Steve, so she tries to blind him by going for his eyes.”

Eddie’s hand covered his mouth as he listened to him go on about this horrible night.

“But despite what a lot of people think,” Wayne continued, “your boy ain’t dumb. He keeps his head down and makes right for the Creel House. He tosses the thrall on duty the stake and suddenly a werebat is face to face with Tammy Thompson, now holding a yew stake as Steve just continues running past the Coven.”

Eddie blinked. “I didn’t realize that Tammy’s family were thralls.”

“Just like the Perkins, Buckleys, and Hagans are hereditary keepers,” Wayne said with a nod, “the Thompsons, Carmichaels, and Bensons have always been hereditary thralls.”

Eddie was starting to think that he really should have paid closer attention to the hierarchies in school, they were a lot more important than he knew.

“Anywho,” Wayne said with a shake of his head. “Ella flies back to their house to find me beating the hell out of Dick. She manages to distract me long enough for Dick to get on his feet, but now it’s two against one and they’re still strong in their human forms, but wicked fast. I was able to take out Dick, the coward that he was, but Ella was proving to be too fast. She was going to get away.”

Eddie drank the rest of his beer and popped open another one. He leaned forward so that he was on the edge of the sofa, and his knee began to shake.

Wayne put his hand his knee to settle it, but Eddie stared at him wild eyed.

“I don’t have to finish if this bothering, Ed,” he said warmly. “I can give you the Cliffnotes.”

Eddie shook his head. “What happened next?”

“Just as she took flight, the thing they had always feared happened,” he said softly. “Steve’s jaws came down on her with a sickening crunch. Dick started spewing all sorts of curse words and things I didn’t understand. Something about how werewolves were a plague among the Weres and that they had to be exterminated and how if Steve hadn’t had my protection they would have drowned the bastard in the bathtub.”

“What. The. Fuck?” Eddie asked, can crumpling in his fist as it tightened on it.

“It didn’t mean anything until the events going on now,” Wayne said with a heavy sigh. He crumpled his can one handed and stared at the twisted mass. “But I think whoever it is who is trying to tear this community apart is getting desperate. They’re starting to make mistakes. And I think one day soon, this is all going to blow up in our faces.”

Eddie gulped, but nodded.

****

Tag List:

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @angels-of-hades @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911

@birbsauce @acingthecounts @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @kultiras

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #werewolf steve harrington #vampire eddie munson #supernatural creatures

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

If you do take requests at this moment, can I request a Hualian x GN reader where reader feels like the third wheel, and when Hualian look further into reader, they find out that reader is hurting themselves/trying to change in the way they look

That Hualian would baby reader, like take sharp objects out of arm’s reach, or spoon feed reader when it’s time to eat. Giving reader kisses and words of affirmation every time they’re around

Lol, I’m feeling very angsty, but if this request is a little too far, you don’t have to do it (I hope you’re doing great! Make sure to drink enough water!) 🥰

Shape Shifting Heart

HuaLian x gn!reader

Ignore grammar mistakes

Slight OOC

Made up looks about reader for plot

Tyyy Pepsi zero has become my hydration 😔🙏

Also I'm so sorry for disappearing but I've had like the worst few months of my life ever so 😃🙏 bear with me

____________________________________

Being with Xie Lian and San Lang is the best thing that has ever happened to you. There's so much love to go around with three people and everyone is always taking care of each other! So you never listened to people being hateful about it, whether that be other gods or ghosts. You guys are happy and that all that matters right?

What happens when all of you aren't happy, when it's just one person bringing down the mood and the whole relationship? That's how you've been feeling lately. You haven't been much use to Xie Lian and San Lang these days. Often, you've been curled up in bed and staying hidden under the covers. For what reason? They don't know. You won't talk to them, and while Xie Lian and San Lang pride themselves on knowing you inside and out they can't figure out what's wrong.

You can't tell them. It's kind of embarrassing, humiliating even. How do you tell your lovers, "I feel like the third wheel, I feel neglected and left out" to the two kindest people you've ever met. Everything you do seems to make it worse and you're trying your best so you don't understand why it seems to put your relationship more on edge.

You had honestly just wanted to sulk and pout for a few days in bed over something silly. When they stopped visiting the bedroom it became a problem. All you do is lie here so what could possibly have made them want to leave you alone? You aren't even doing anything to warrant them off! Xie Lian and San Lang easily coddle each other all the time so why don't they think to do it with you? They stopped coming to the shared bedroom, even going as far to sleep in another bedroom together, but by themselves without you.

It only made you feel worse, are you so depressed and off putting they don't want to be near you now? Sadness becomes frustration and it fuels you to get out of bed in what has been weeks. You leave the room disheveled and groggy hoping to find one of your lovers to receive some affection, to you it feels like you haven't had in forever.

You find them together in the kitchen, an awfully domestic scene. Xie Lian cooking dinner and San Lang attached by the hip. The way San Lang holds Xie Lian's waist and stays close while Xie Lian bustles around the kitchen. Where you had once been and would usually love to hear the sound of their laughs and love filled giggles all it sounds like is mocking joy of what you once felt. How many nights has it been like this? How many nights have they been content without you?

"Making dinner without me?" You pipe up, leaning against the kitchen counter. Making dinner is a silly thing to be upset about. A part of you feels awful for being so jealous but the other doesn't. It's not like you're jealous of San Lang or jealous of Xie Lian. You don't spite a specific person. You're just jealous of the love they share, of their bond. You're envious of their happiness, you just want to be included too!

"Ah, y/n!", Xie Lian gives a wobbly smile, "Of course not" Xie Lian didn't know how to bring up that they've been trying to give you space. He doesn't know how to say it in a way that would sound reasonable to you. These days you've been a little irritated and you easily take words they say but add a whole new meaning to it. They know it's not your fault, it's one of your episodes maybe.

No one moves. They don't know whether to extend a hand to invite you or not but you seem to take it upon yourself. You walk closer and stick right up to Xie Lian's and San Lang's side. The tension - you can't tell if you're imagining it or not, you've been imagining a lot these days - is thick. "Well I feel a little better so I'll join from now on, what are you making?" You try to make conversation, you try to move closer in hopes that the domestic scene will just continue.

It doesn't. The room is tense and so are your lovers. You hate it. It makes you want to lash out, cry, and scream. Xie Lian and San Lang seem to be walking on eggshells around you and you don't know why. You've never gotten angry with them before, you've never been violent or aggressive with them so why are they acting like you're a ticking bomb?

San Lang attempts to break the tense atmosphere first. Wrapping hesitant hands around your waist and nuzzling into your hair, hair he will not mention is a bit notty. "We missed you" he murmurs into your long, bright locs. "We're glad you feel better" this seems to get the night moving smoothly again. It's pathetic how quickly you melt into San Lang's touch and preen at his words. It finally feels like you're included in the domestic picture they make.

The three of you eat dinner and enjoy it, Xie Lian's cooking has been getting a lot better but that's probably because you and San Lang were in the kitchen to help him. You're filled with a deep satisfaction when Xie Lian gently grabs your hand and all of you go to your shared bedroom together. Xie Lian pulls you into bed and They cuddle up next to you under the covers, placing gentle kisses on your face and shoulders.

You feel suddenly energetic because of the affection you're receiving. Making you giggle and kissing them back with new found passion. You won't lie you guys haven't had sex in a while so. . . You easily climb on San Lang, and straddle his hips. Kissing him eagerly and nipping against his lips. They weren't expecting you to be so eager but who are they to deny you.

Xie Lian gets behind you and slips off your robe, running his hands over your body. Your back, arms, hips, and thighs- your thighs. Xie Lian's hands freeze, and moves his hands as if he's been scalded. The sudden movement catches San Lang's attention and he sits up but he keeps you in his lap. "Gege what's wrong?" San Lang stares at Xie Lian and suddenly all the attention is off you. Somewhere inside you, you feel a little miffed at Xie Lian's reaction.

But you're concerned too so you turn your head to your other lover with concerned eyes, however Xie Lian is the one staring at you with pity. He turns on the light and sits next to San Lang. "His thighs, San Lang. . ." You scrunch your face. Of course that's what Xie Lian reacted so strongly about. While you were rotting in bed you were feeling so down in the dumps. So- so maybe you took it out on yourself and used your sword on your own skin.

It's not that big of a deal, they're already healed and just remain thick scars across your thighs but it matters to your lovers greatly. They've explored your body many times, and they know these are new. "Baobei, what happened?" Xie Lian cups your face with gentle hands but you turn your head the other way. You're irritated the night has stopped over something so trivial. "Nothing important, I was just feeling upset a few weeks ago, it's trivial now. Can't we just- can we not focus on that?"

Your face is scrunched in irritation and you try to roll your hips against San Lang but he removes you from his lap and onto the silk covers. You groan in frustration. The night was going perfectly and now it's all messed up! San Lang's eyes narrow as he gazes over your legs, and you swallow nervously. "This isn't something we can just ignore Y/n. You know that. . . Let's stop here for tonight" If it were San Lang saying it you wouldn't have minded as much but it's Xie Lian.

Xie Lian loves San Lang's body even with the scars on it so why won't he love yours?! "We don't have to stop! Just- ignore it, would you please?! I can get rid of them, I can look like whatever you want me to be! " You never notice when you start heaving for breath, when tears line your eyes and you try to cling to one of your lovers. You don't notice when you subconsciously change your body into something else because it's something you've always had the power to do.

So when your skin becomes smooth again, and unmarked it's something you don't even look over. But for Xie Lian and San Lang it's completely different. It's like looking at a stranger's body. Like looking at somebody who's never worked a day in their life, someone who has never gone to battle, something you are not but you're desperately trying to be. You have no scars, and the callouses on your hands have disappeared. They've memorized everything on you and now you've made yourself look completely different.

To you, it feels like they look at you with disgust and anger. You're breaking down and it's not something you're even registering. "Y/n stop!" San Lang gives up on keeping you on the bed and he lets you crawl into his lap, he cups your face with surprisingly gentle hands that contradict his angry voice. "Breathe Baobei" he rubs comforting circles into your hips and Xie Lian rubs your back. They're trying to get you to breathe and to stop hyperventilating.

San Lang never looks away from you, and he plants tiny kisses in your cheeks to get rid of your tears. When did you start crying? You don't remember. You eventually calm down from listening to your lovers instructions and their loving touches. When you're finally breathing normally again and the tension leaves your body they try talking to you again. Xie Lian rubs his fingers through your hair, he doesn't like how you've easily changed yourself. He misses your bright locs not the dark ones you've decided to take on. He kisses your head. "I want to talk to my Y/n now. Can I?" Xie Lian asks sweetly.

You've always been you but he wants to talk to his lover not the made up version of yourself. You sniffle and San Lang pats your waist. You take the encouragement and change back to your original body. When you make a weird noise in your throat that sounds close to a sob Xie Lian wraps around you and kisses your nape. "That's good Baobei, we're proud of you." San Lang and Xie Lian glance at each other and in that moment decide to drop the topic about your new found scars. They can only try to find the root of the issue now.

San Lang kisses your forehead and then below your eyes and then your lips. "Tell us what's wrong?" San Lang poses it as a question. As in, you don't have to but it would greatly help them if you did. You feel pathetic and selfish. You don't know why you broke down over something so silly and foolish. "I-I felt, I felt like a t-third wheel. You guys seem so happy without me and all I do is mess up, I'm sorry " you start to cry again and you rub at your eyes harshly but San Lang holds your wrists gently and keeps them away from your eyes.

Xie Lian kisses your shoulder. "There's nothing to be sorry for baobei. No one's at fault." He runs his hands over your thighs, making circles with his fingers. "We didn't mean to make you feel left out, we just wanted to give you space. We thought that's what you needed" Xie Lian explains softly. You nod and sniffle. That's more reasonable than whatever your mind came up with. San Lang pulls you closer by the waist. "If we make you feel like that tell us Baobei, we'll fix it immediately" he says with narrowed eyes. You know he isn't upset with you and he's probably beating himself up for not being able to tell. You kiss him deeply and sigh against his lips.

"M'sorry, I know you love me I just- my mind tells me awful things." You whisper in San Lang's lips and kiss him again. San Lang grunts and playfully tugs a piece of your hair. "Should I beat it up for you?" It makes you giggle.

🦊🪷

For the next few days and even few weeks they baby you endlessly. Xie Lian keeps an eye on sharp objects and makes sure you can't get into the weapons room. He also confiscated your sword and he won't even let you hold knives in the kitchen. The only sword you're allowed to be around is E'ming and they know you wouldn't do that to him or San Lang.

They have no problem with dragging you everywhere they go and often San Lang likes to feed you during meals. At first you blushed and insisted you could do it yourself but San Lang waved your concerns away and said "Let me take care of you". They coddle you a lot and one of them is always in the room with you. You know now that you need to work on your communication and not let your mind get to you. It was a big misunderstanding but San Lang and Xie Lian treat it as if it was a genuine problem.

You're suffocated with love but you wouldn't change it for the world.

#tgcf #tgcf headcanon #hualian #hualian x reader #hua cheng x reader #tgcf hua cheng #tgcf hualian #tgcf x male reader #tgcf xie lian #xie lian x reader #mxtx tgcf #tgcf angst

[revolutioninthealps]

It'll All Work Out (Bonus Track)

You sort of felt like a bug. You laid on your empty bed, staring at nothing on what felt like a concrete slab, in a dirty tee you’ve neglected to change out of. You knew, eventually, you would have to get up and start to study for your exams, but all you felt like doing was scrolling mindlessly, blocking out any conflict in your life that has ever happened, is happening, and would happen.

Your angel boyfriend was in Georgia, trying to figure out the geographical profile,  probably pacing around with such a sugary coffee that it shouldn’t even be considered coffee. Or was he delivering the profile? You really didn’t know. You didn’t even know what day of the week it was. Here you were, helpless.

Eventually, you crawled out of bed wrapped up in your, well technically his, gray comforter and dragged to the couch in the living room so you could prove to yourself you technically didn’t bedrot. You couchrotted, and that’s less popular, therefore less judged, and you began to think to yourself about how much you cared what random people thought.

After an exhausting session of gloomily scrolling on your phone while all the lights were still off, you fell asleep for hours.

“Honey?” you heard a soft voice whisper.

You cracked your eyes open a little. “Spence…?”

“Hi, honey. Um… what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” You chuckled a bit self-consciously and moved your body up on the couch, sitting upright. “Oh, um, all this, haha. Well, like, um… well first of all, what are you doing here? I thought you just started.”

“Yeah, started a few days ago. Are you feeling okay?” he sat on the sliver of the couch next to your knees, and you moved them a little to accommodate him. He placed his fingers on your forehead and you sighed.

“Define ‘okay.’ I’m living. Sorry, this seems like the worst welcome ever. And now it’s an even worse welcome because I’m acknowledging it’s the worst welcome so even if you didn’t acknowledge it in the first place that-”

“Do you want to go shower? Doesn’t that sound nice, lovely?”

Oh wow, you totally stink.

He flushes at your expression. “You smell very nice,”

Liar.

“I… just thought it would make you feel better. No secret meanings. I promise, baby. Did something happen?”

“No,” you sigh. “Just me. It’s always myself, making things bad. Me, me, me. And you have to deal with it. Am I manipulating you right now? I feel like you have to take care of me now and that’s not fair.”

“Baby,” he starts, but changes his mind and hugs your sickly body gently. “I love you. You’re my angel. I want to take care of you. You’re everything to me, and whatever emotion you’re feeling at the moment, or however you look, or whatever, baby, it’s just another version of you I get to see. And I’m so grateful for that,” he kisses your forehead and your lips. “C’mon.”

He sweetly escorts you to the bathroom and tests out the temperature in the shower before gesturing for you to get in. You think, “I’m a sheep and he’s my shepherd,” and you laugh out loud for the first time since he left, and he kisses your shoulder. 

He doesn’t fight when you stand closest to the showerhead, and you know he’s probably so cold and uncomfortable in the back without the nice, hot water. You apologize softly and he whispers that it’s okay. The water pours down and sounds like rain, soothing you. He ends up doing everything for you, scratching your scalp with your shampoo, dripping down his fingers, massaging and scrunching the tips of your hair with conditioner, and washing your body carefully.

Massaging your shoulders from the back, he whispers “Does that feel good, baby?” and you know anything he does will always be good.

You lay delicately under the comforter while he takes out his contacts and replaces them with his glasses in the bathroom. You know you will always love him. You hear his footsteps pad into the room, and he sits beside you on the bed and gently pats his lap. You crawl into his lap and he starts to brush out your hair while you talk about everything and anything in a sleepy mumble. “I love you, baby,” he says when he finishes. He places the hairbrush on the nightstand, and kisses the crown of your head. You smile up at him, seeing him upside down, and he laughs as he kisses your lips in a weird upside-down kiss. 

“You’re such a silly girl, you know that?”

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic

[raine-soft]

Konig kidnapper and Ghost accomplice.

Warning: Kidnapping, tell me if I missed anything.

The abandoned warehouse was shrouded in oppressive darkness, interrupted only by the flickering light of an old lantern hanging from the ceiling. In the center of the room, y/n lay tied to a chair, her eyes full of confusion and fear as she looked at Konig, whose figure was silhouetted ominously against the shadows.

Konig, with his usual air of authority and confidence, approached y/n with sure steps, his gaze fixed on his prey with a mixture of obsession and adoration. “Finally, you are here, my dear y/n,” Konig murmured with a smile that sent shivers down y/n’s spine. "You have been the light in my life since I met you, and now you will be mine forever."

Y/n's eyes widened at Konig's words, trying to understand the surreal situation she found herself in. Before she could utter a word, Konig placed a soft but firm hand on y/n's cheek, caressing it with a tenderness that contrasted brutally with the violence-filled atmosphere.

“Everything in me belongs to you, y/n,” Konig continued, his voice echoing in the silence of the warehouse. "I will protect you from everything and everyone, because you are my reason for existing."

Meanwhile, in the shadows, Ghost watched the scene with a mix of worry and confusion. He had followed Konig to the warehouse after discovering his dark plan, but seeing the way his friend interacted with y/n, something inside him began to change.

"Konig, this isn't right," Ghost interjected, his voice heavy with anguish. "You must free y/n. This is not love, it is obsession."

Konig turned to Ghost with a piercing gaze, his eyes shining with determination. "You don't understand, Ghost. y/n means everything to me. I won't let anything or anyone separate us."

As time passed, Ghost continued to observe the dynamic between Konig and y/n. Although he had initially planned to rescue y/n and take her away from Konig, he found himself increasingly attracted to y/n's sweetness and innocence, which seemed to stand out even more in the midst of the darkness.

The relationship between Konig, Ghost and y/n became more and more complex. Konig, obsessed but also deeply in love, was overprotective of y/n with a ferocity that often bordered on the dangerous. Ghost, for his part, was torn between his loyalty to his friend and his growing feelings towards y/n, whose presence had filled a void in his life that he didn't even know existed.

Over the course of the days and nights in the warehouse, the dynamic between the three of them became more intense. Konig, increasingly consumed by his obsession and his need to protect y/n, found an unexpected ally in Ghost, someone who understood and shared his feelings towards the same person.

The situation reached a fever pitch when y/n, in an act of bravery and determination, confronted Konig and Ghost about the complexity of her feelings. “I’m not an object you can share or protect at will,” y/n exclaimed, her eyes filled with determination. "I am a person with my own desires and choices."

Y/n's words echoed through the air of the warehouse, her voice filled with determination and bravery as she confronted Konig and Ghost about the complexity of her feelings and actions. However, instead of receiving understanding or redemption, y/n was greeted with icy silence from Konig and a somber look from Ghost.

“How dare you talk like that, y/n?” Konig exclaimed, his voice filled with suppressed anger. "I brought you here to protect you, to love you, and this is what you get in return. You don't understand what I do for you."

Ghost remained silent, but his look was a mix of pain and disappointment. He had found a light in y/n in the midst of the darkness, but now he was faced with the reality of his actions and the complexity of his feelings.

Before y/n could respond, Konig stepped forward determinedly, his face masked by a harsh expression. “You must learn your place, y/n,” Konig said, his words heavy with menace. "I will not allow you to challenge my authority or my feelings. From now on, you will follow my rules without questioning them."

Konig's commanding tone and the implicit threat in his words left y/n breathless, feeling the weight of her vulnerable position in the hands of someone obsessed with controlling every aspect of her life. Ghost, for his part, remained silent, his gaze sad but resigned to the situation.

From that day on, the dynamic between Konig, Ghost and y/n became more tense and controlling. Konig exercised his authority with a firm hand, imposing strict rules and watching y/n's every move. Ghost, while sharing Konig's concern for y/n, felt increasingly caught between his loyalty to his friend and his own confused feelings.

The abandoned warehouse became a scene of oppression and conflict, where love was intertwined with control and obsession.

Over time, y/n resigned herself to her situation, adapting to the rules imposed by Konig and trying to find small moments of calm and comfort in the midst of oppression. Although the desire to escape still burned within him, the opportunities were few and the risks too high.

#tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere male #yancore #yandere #yandere x darling #obsessive love #yandere könig x reader #yande.re #yandere konig #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #ghost yandere

[dumbass-hyperfixations]

I started watching 911 recently (and I’m not gonna lie, it’s mostly because of Buck’s coming out because I wasn’t gonna start watching yet a show with a very potential queerbait in the middle of an otherwise very diverse and interesting looking cast) and I’ve been loving it, and even though I’m only on season 3 now, I really want to contribute with an idea on how the show could start up Eddie’s own coming out journey (which is hopefully in the cards)

Now, I don’t know how much closer Michael Grant gets to everyone else on the show (since I’m on season 3, I haven’t really seen him interact much with anyone but Bobby and Hen from the 118, and idk if that changes or if his relationship with other characters deepens over the years), but I would really like him to be present at Chimney and Maddie’s wedding. And maybe Tommy and Buck are being cute on the dancefloor, and then the camera pans to Eddie, who is seated to the side with Marisol, looking at the pair a little wistfully (just enough for us to know that maybe sitting there with Marisol isn’t exactly what he wants to do). And then, the camera would go to Michael, noticing Eddie’s look, and Marisol’s sort of dejected and bored expression. And he sees a couple that not only appears unhappy with each other, but also sees a whole lot of himself in Eddie.

So, as the wedding reception is coming to a close, Michael is at the bar as Eddie comes by, looking for one more round as the bartender announces the last call. And as he waits for the drink, Michael strikes up a conversation with a bit of small talk (again, idk if they’re close enough to have a deep conversation right off the bat), and then goes, “hey, did Bobby or Athena ever tell you why we got divorced?”

And Eddie stumbles over the answer a bit awkwardly, like yeah, it was because, well, um, you know, because you’re …

And Michael chuckles, putting him out of his misery with a “a flaming homosexual? Yeah. No sense in beating around the bush about it. At least not anymore. You know, I was so deep in denial I never even kissed a man until I was in my fifties?”

“Really? So you’ve … only been with women until you came out?” Eddie asks and Michael nods. “And you’re sure you’re not bisexual?”

To which Michael laughs and reassures him that no, not bisexual, just a very very repressed gay man. Then, he drives his not-so-subtle point home by saying:

“And even still, I don’t have many regrets about my life. I got two incredible kids out of it, and I can’t imagine my life without them. My only regret, though, is that I spent fifteen years with a woman I couldn’t love the way she loved me, and I wasn’t even man enough to give her a chance to look for someone better. Fifteen years. That’s a hell of a lot of time to take away from someone.”

And while he speaks, we see Eddie glance across the room, to Marisol fussing over Chris. And, inevitably, to Buck laughing along with something Chimney said on the other side of the room. And when he looks back at Michael, he sees a very knowing expression on his face.

“What are you trying to say?” Eddies asks, still guarded as hell, to which Michael chuckles.

“Nothing, man. I guess I just officially entered my lonely gay drunk at the bar days. But if I can pass a little wisdom. If can already you feel it in your gut that you’re not with the right person, maybe don’t be like me and spend the next fifteen years trying to figure out what you already know.”

And then he leaves, and BOOM, Eddie is forced to realize things he would much rather keep repressed.

#i know im new to the fandom but gosh #michael and eddie’s stories parallel each other in so many ways #ESPECIALLY IF eddie is going to come out as gay at some point #and i would just die to see michael having his paternal guiding hand in his coming out #it doesn’t even have to be the wedding it could just be a family fire house gathering #just let michael tell his story to eddie and maybe wake him up to non-comphet possibilities in life 😭😭 #eddie diaz #911 abc #911 show #gay eddie diaz #buddie #911 buddie #eddie x buck #buck x eddie #eddie diaz x evan buckley #evan buckley x eddie diaz

[momentsbeforemass]

What are you holding onto?

What we hold onto matters. Because you and I can only carry so much.

Even though we often act like there’s no limit to what we can carry.

The truth is that everything we pick up, everything we hold onto reduces our capacity to carry other things.

When I would carry my cat (who would randomly decide that he was incapable of movement and was now a limp noodle), I couldn’t also pick up my dog (who had no idea that he weighed 75 pounds) just because he saw the cat and decided that he wanted to be carried as well.

Sorry. I can only carry so much.

That’s not just true for goofy house pets. It’s true for life in general.

Whether we’re talking about pets or groceries, worries or cares, you and I can only carry so much.

And if our hands are full of worries and cares, problems and anxieties, you and I won’t have the capacity to carry other things.

Including things we might actually want (as opposed to worries and cares). Including the good stuff. Like God’s best for our lives.

What works against you and me is habit. We get in a habit of picking stuff up and carrying it around. Just because it wants us to pick it up and carry it around.

Like my limp noodle cat. Who wanted to be carried.

But who would also make a miraculous recovery and start doing unnecessary parkour off the top of the couch. If I didn’t pick him up.

What you and I need to remember is that we have a choice. Just because something wants you to pick it up and carry it around doesn’t mean you have to.

I’m not saying don’t deal with your worries and cares, your problems and anxieties.

But there’s a big difference between dealing with your worries and cares - and picking them up and carrying them around like a beloved pet.

So, how do you do that?

First, know that you have a choice. Then know that you have help.

You don’t have to deal with your worries and cares (or even carry them around) by yourself.

In fact, you shouldn’t. Because holding onto your worries and cares, your problems and anxieties is one of the subtlest forms of the dreary old sin of pride.

And there is nothing so effective at separating you and me from the ones who love us best (including God) like pride. It does that by making sure that our hands are full, that we have no room for the good that anyone would do for us (including God).

Instead, take the help offered by the One who loves you best.

No matter what it is. No matter what wants you to pick it up and carry it around.

God isn’t just waiting to help you. God wants to help you.

Not someday, when you’ve got it all figured out. But right now, when you don’t.

“Give all your worries and cares to God, for He cares about you.”

Today’s Readings

#Help #Now #What are you holding onto? #Holding onto #Trying to carry it all #Cats #Dogs #God #Jesus #Catholic #Christian #Church #Catholicism #Moments Before Mass

[comicwritesstuff]

okay this is so incredibly specific so please feel free to ignore BUT i’ve been wanting to read a fic for ages where the reader is Chase’s childhood best friend from Australia and she moves to New Jersey for a fresh start. She’s staying with Chase while she gets settled, and one day she comes to visit him at lunch at the hospital, where she ends up meeting House and he’s… intrigued by her 👀 either romantic or smut would be so very cool :^D <33 💐

YES. I LOVE THIS PROMPT IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG BUT IM FINISHED!!!

Gregory House x Fem!Chases bsf!Reader

Warnings: None really, just cussing and tooth rotting fluff >:) 3k+ words.

Chase's POV: 

“Well I was just wondering if we could go out sometime, I think you're really-” My attention shifted as y/n's call lit up my phone, interrupting the conversation. It was a more pressing matter than pursuing a one-night stand.

“Excuse me for a moment.” I say walking away, the woman having an annoyed look on her face. 

I answer the phone.

“Hello, y/n? Whats up” 

“Chase! Long time no talk haha.”

“You called me yesterday.”

“Learn to take a joke, anyways, I have some exciting news for you.”

“I’m moving to New Jersey!!” 

“Wait what? Really?”

“Yeah, I kinda forgot to tell you and i'm actually at the airport right now, so I hope you aren't busy tomorrow so you can pick me up.”

“Wow, um alright, yeah I can pick you up, do you have a place to stay?"

“Um…no…” I sigh, “Just stay at mine for now.”

“Don't even with the sigh i’ve known you my whole life you can put the nightly hookups on hold for your best friend.” 

I smirk and shake my head, “Yeah yeah, I’ll see ya tomorrow y/n” 

Y/N’s POV:

I smile as I hang up with Chase, grabbing my luggage and pulling it along the airport. Ahh yes, crying babies, rushed parents, annoying couples and that one insanely attractive person you see for a split second, I love the airport. 

Glancing at my ticket I realize I might have to hurry to make it to the gate, speed walking I see a text from chase, “Have a safe flight.” Let's hope so. 

Time skip (to lazy to write all the details about fucking airports)

Relaxing on a 21-hour flight proved challenging, especially with a toddler nearby. It was unclear whether the toddler would be a source of annoyance or just be tolerable. The flight just started. So to entertain myself I decide to do some digging about Chase's job, he brags about it all the time and the infamous Dr Gregory House. To be honest I thought Chase was gay for a little while with how much he talks about him. Still speculating. 

The plane lifts off and I start my look, at first just looking up Gregory House, a surprising amount of things show up. An article titled, “Gregory House, Talented Doctor? Or a lying Narcissist?” Oh well that's a good first impression.   

Scrolling down I see another article, “The world's greatest doctor, and his deepest secrets” 

Now that's enticing. I click on it only to find out his deepest secrets, including using 3 in one shampoo and how his leg got hurt. I guess people hardly know anything about him. I click on the photos of him, there's only a couple, most of them blurry but to be honest he's pretty good looking from the photos I can see. I’d honestly be gay for him if I was Chase. 

The toddler next to me starts giggling, I glance at her and notice her staring at a picture of House. She's kicking her feet too. That's so relatable. 

For the rest of the flight I find some stuff about this guy named Taub, who somehow also figured out that he cheated on his wife which is why he had to quit. How did I find that out? I took a coding class in 8th grade. (I got lucky) 

Lisa Cuddy the Dean of Medicine, unfortunately only good stuff about her, boring. 

Remy Hadley, oddly, can't find anything on her. 

Eric Foreman, his brothers in jail, fun. 

And the others are just as boring. For the remainder of the flight, the toddler proved surprisingly chill. I passed the time by binge-watching random movies I had downloaded earlier

*Another time skip to plane landing* 

Finally, 21 hours on a fucking plane is horrible. 

I check my phone after I take it off airplane mode, seeing a text from chase a couple minutes ago. 

“I’m at the airport, is your flight done?”

“Yep, wya.”

“I’m parked in the front.”

“That's specific” 

“There's no other front dumbass”

I roll my eyes at his text, and get off the plane as soon as I can. I walk out and see Chase standing outside his car waiting for me. His eyes light up as he spots me, and a grin spreads across his face. Unable to resist, I rush forward and envelop him in a bear hug.

“Man you’re a lot uglier in person” 

I say jokingly, smirking.

“Oh shut up”  

We climbed into his car, and he drove us back to his apartment. When we arrive he helps get my crap into the house, before he gets a call saying he had to head to work. 

Eventually a week or two passes, I've gotten more comfortable in his apartment, applied for a bunch of jobs, and looked for places to stay so I’m not invading his “man” space anymore. Unfortunately there aren't a lot of options, and no jobs have replied to my applications, which is weird since im overqualified, it's almost like they aren’t even getting my applications in the first place. 

I’m doing the dishes when I get a text from Chase.

“Hey, I left my wallet on the counter, so I don’t have money for food, could ya bring it for me?” 

“Nah”

“See you soon”

I breathe out a laugh and grab his wallet, putting a coat on then driving to the hospital. 

When I get there I walk in, looking around before I call Chase, “Where do I go this place is huge” I can hear talking in the background, actually more like arguing. “Uhm just wait at the entrance i’ll be right there.” He says in a whisper.

He hangs up so I just stand there awkwardly waiting, that was a weird ass phone call. To be fair Chase is a weird ass guy with weird ass coworkers so what do I expect at this point. 

Before I see Chase I see Dr Gregory House, limping quickly towards me. And damn he’s even hotter in person than the pictures I saw of him. 

“Hey, no time to explain, you need to come with me.” He grabs my arm dragging me into the elevator. Before it closes I see Chase come out of the stairway, he sprints towards the elevator but it closes. I hear him trying to say something, but it's muffled and I can’t understand it. Wait why the fuck did I even follow House? 

“You're real compliant, you’d make a great hooker.” 

I turn around and side eye him.

“Thanks, so would you.” I say giving a fake smile. 

“Speaking of compliant, why did you drag me away from Chase? What's going on?’’

“I made a bet with Chase.”

“That's really specific and helpful thanks” 

“Oh yeah no problem” 

Sarcastic asshole. 

“If you don’t tell me, I'll stop following you and go with Chase.” 

He rolls his eyes.

“Fine, Mom! The bet is that I can convince you to work as my assistant here.”

“Really? That's it? I need a job. Why would Chase even bet against that?” 

“He thinks you’ll fall in love with me so he doesn’t want that to happen, in his words, “She has a thing for homeless looking, narcissistic assholes with beards.” So he’s trying to prevent it, and he’s sure he can.”  

Damn- I feel so called out. I stay silent before nodding.

“Well to be honest he isn’t wrong.” 

I see House smirk before we get out of the elevator, he hobbles and leads me to his office, locking the door then having me sit down. 

As I sit down in front of his desk, he grabs a ball and starts throwing it against the wall, while sitting down. 

“So are you gonna interview me or something?” 

“Yeah, I’m just waiting for Chase to get back up here so he can watch me interview you.” 

He really is an asshole…it's kinda hot though. 

“Fair enough.” 

We wait a bit before Chase comes jogging up to the door, out of breath, he’s clearly been running plenty. He starts banging on the glass door that House previously locked.

“House!! Y/N! Let me in! This isn’t fair!” He exclaims, House is grinning when he leans over his desk, crossing his arms.

“Okay! Let’s start this interview now.” 

“Y/n! You traitor!” 

Did I abandon my childhood best friend for some disabled doctor? No, I did it for the job. At least that's what I'm telling myself.   

Turning my attention back to House instead of the Australian cry baby outside the door, he asks me, “First question, do you want the job of being my assistant?” 

“Obviously”

“Great! You have the job!” 

I mean, easy enough. I smile and shake my head. This hospital really has some unique people. 

House shakes my hand, grinning as Chase is sitting on the floor defeated outside. 

As the days turned into weeks at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, I got to know everyone. Cuddy had to actually approve of me working as House’s assistant first, but once she saw a…normal enough individual, she welcomed me into the environment.

Getting to know House better, I found myself drawn to him in ways I hadn’t really expected. The bet between House and Chase, Chase thinking I would fall for House, I took it as a joke, until that joke turned more into reality. 

Despite House being a narcissistic piece of shit, there were small moments that I saw, or shared with him that made me fall for him. Ones where he seemed happy, or just easy to be around. At work he's serious but when Wilson dragged him out to bars, or other social environments, he could actually be fun. And though him being a dick is undeniably attractive sometimes, when he was…”himself” that's how I began to fall for him.  

One day, after an especially tough day for the team, and being forced to go break into houses and get coffee and food, I found myself alone with House in his office. The rest of the team had left, leaving us in a rare moment alone with each other. As I glanced up from the medical chart of the most recent patient, I caught House’s gaze lingering on me, his blue eyes intense and unreadable. 

“Something on your mind, House?” I asked, attempting to break the awkward silence between us. 

He smirked, leaning back in his chair with a casual ease, “Oh just wondering why a catch like yourself doesn’t have a boyfriend, or husband?” He responds, his tone laced with flirtatiousness.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his response, a faint blush on my cheeks. House and I had gained an uncanny camaraderie, made from me running around doing everyone's paperwork, being the designated “you get to tell patients they are dying!!” person. And as you’d expect people didn’t respect me a lot, but if someone was blatantly mean to me, House would step in and destroy their self esteem in a second and walk away like it meant nothing. That's another thing that I think made me fall for him. 

“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself that a lot too.” I smile, placing the medical chart on his desk. 

“Do you want a boyfriend? Or girlfriend, or a pet or something.” He quips, his eyes looking like they are reading me, studying my every movement and reaction to what he’s saying, it's flattering and uncomfortable at the same time. 

“A boyfriend would be nice.” I say reassuringly, a laugh escaping me as I shake my head in amusement.

“Alright let's say *hypothetically* I asked you out. *hypothetically* what would your response be?” 

Raising an eyebrow I ask, “Are you trying to go on a date with me?”

“I said hypothetically, now answer the question.” 

A smirk plays on my lips as I roll my eyes in a mock annoyance. 

“Well.” I say, “Hypothetically, I would say yes.” 

“Great, meet me for dinner at (some random fancy place idk u make up a name i'm too lazy to), wear something cute.” 

 With that, he sauntered out of the office, leaving me to think about what just happened. Glancing at the clock, I realized I had just enough time to get ready for our “hypothetical date.” 

The anticipation bubbled within me, standing outside (IDK A RESTAURANT NAME IT), waiting for House to arrive. My heart raced with nervous excitement, unsure what to expect from a…unique…guy like House. I had used all the time I had to work on my outfit, settling for a simple dress (or suit, or just anything you're comfy in :) ). 

As I scanned the busy street, searching for any sign of House, I heard the obnoxiously loud sound of a motorcycle approaching. House rode in, parking his bike before getting off and walking (limping) towards me. My breath caught in my throat as I saw him, he looked impossibly handsome, in a tailored suit that made his rugged charm come out, good god he looked fine. 

“Y/n,” he greeted with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners in genuine affection. “That outfit makes your ass look nice.” 

I scoff playfully, hitting his arm. “So much for acting like a gentleman, at least you look like one.” 

He chuckled, offering me his arm in a more gentlemanly gesture. “Yeah yeah, shall we?” 

With a nod, I looped my arm through his, savoring the warmth of his touch as we mad our way into the restaurant. The ambiance was elegant and inviting, with a soft candlelight casting a warm glow over the decor. 

As we were seated at a table in a quiet corner of the restaurant, I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. I’m finally going out with House, damn Chase was totally right. 

Throughout the evening, our conversation flowed surprisingly easily between us. I had half expected him to be rude or stuck up, but he seemed actually interested in me, in my life. He was asking questions, laughing and joking with me. Sharing stories of his own, and treating me like an actual human. Honestly it was scaring me a bit, but it was making me fall harder for him. 

House raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. ‘So, tell my Y/N. What’s the most embarrassing thing that's happened to you?” 

I laughed, shaking my head as I thought about the memory. “Well, there was this one time in college-” 

“Let me guess,” House interrupted, a smirk playing on his lips. “It involved copious amounts of alcohol and very questionable decisions?” 

I chuckle and nod in agreement. “You could say that. Long story short, I ended up streaking through the campus fountain at three in the morning. I'm pretty sure Chase might still have a video of it still.”

House raises an eyebrow, an amused laugh coming from him. “I wish I could say I was surprised, oh and also. I am finding that video.” He states, with a determined and mischievous grin. 

The dinner continues and our connection just seems to get stronger, fueled by shared laughter, stories of shit Wilson and him did in college, things Chase and I did in highschool. With each passing moment, I found myself more and more under House’s spell, captivated by the complexity of himself, his character. His gaze, laughter, even his personality. Maybe it was the wine or something, but House was being nice, he had charisma, and was being attractive in general.  

I don’t even realize that we’ve spent almost three hours in the restaurant just talking. I check my phone seeing that it's 9:30 already. We had got and paid the check awhile ago, but had stayed to talk longer. The restaurant closes at 10, and I felt a sudden pang of disappointment that our date was close to being over with. I didn’t want it to end, I was savoring this moment I was having, this seemingly perfect night. 

When the waiter arrived to take our dessert order, I couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment that the evening was drawing to a close. I wasn't ready for it to end—I wanted to savor every moment, to prolong the magic of our time together for as long as possible.

House notices my look of disappointment, “I’m aware how amazing I am, but if its up to me, this won’t be our last date.” 

A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, my cheeks heating up as I blush. The butterflies in my stomach going absolutely insane. 

So with a quick glance around the restaurant, I rose from my seat, House grabbed my hand as he led me towards the exit. 

Stepping out into the cool night air, I felt a sense of happiness coursing through me. This was it, the beginning of a new relationship, a surprisingly healthy one so far. 

As House’s hand tightened around mine, his touch sent sparks of electricity coursing through my veins. I knew now that maybe Chase knows me better than I know myself, in all fairness he predicted this, but right now I wasn’t afraid to admit this, to admit the undeniable attraction that I had towards Dr Gregory House. 

His touch leaves mine, his hand pulling as we stand in front of the restaurant, close to each other, staring in each other's eyes. I glance at his lips before leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, not sure if he expected it, but I pull back.

“Goodnight House. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that I walk away, to my car. When I get in my car, I look in the mirror, seeing House standing there with a lovestruck grin, one a child would have over some school crush. But it was cute, he was cute. And this was just the beginning of an annoyingly predicated relationship with a Vicodin addicted, asshole, who I suspect has a soft spot for me.

#gregory house #greg house #hatecrimes md #dr house #house md #gregory house x reader #greg house x reader #house md headcanons #james wilson #robert chase

[gracexthoughts]

of violent delights chap 23

arguments

1 november 1996

Euphemia’s POV

I sit across from the Headmaster, morning sunlight streaming in through the windows, and listen to him make excuses after excuses. We’ve been arguing for about 20 minutes now. Harry and the Triwizard Tournament was all I could think about when I woke up this morning, so I slipped out of bed and dressed earlier than I normally would on a Sunday morning. 

 I went to the Owlery first and sent the letters I scribbled out last night to Remus and Sirius and then to Dumbledore’s office, armed with multiple options that I felt were all perfectly reasonable. Every single one has been shot down. McGonagall stands next to Dumbledore’s desk, watching mostly in silence; although I can tell she agrees with me more than she’ll say. 

“The Goblet constitutes a binding contact. Harry must participate in the tournament,” Dumbledore says in the same calm and lightly condescending tone he has spoken to me with since I entered his office. 

“You can’t hold him to a contract someone else signed for him! He is a child!” I respond, beyond exasperated and pissed off. 

“Euphemia, the world has been far too cruel for either of you to still be considered children,” he responds, tilting his head slightly. 

“How can you not see a problem with that? So what, you consider him an adult so you’ll force him through even more trauma for the entertainment of the masses?” I snap back, not believing that the man who has always seemed to genuinely care for Harry and I could be so cavalier about this. 

“Miss Potter, I will ask you to speak to the Headmaster with the tone deserving of him and is becoming of a Gryffindor,” McGonagall scolds. 

“Harry is a minor in the eyes of the law and I am his guardian, not you!” I press on, my eyes boring into the man across from me without acknowledging I heard my Head of House. “I have spent my entire life trying to give him as normal a life as possible and you have the audacity to sit there and tell me it was useless? That you are willing to continually put him through trials that he is not old enough to consent to? Do you care at all that every single year he has attended this school he has been put in danger, almost dying at least three times in three years? How can you sit here and look me in the eyes and tell me that is acceptable in any way?” I’m yelling now but I don’t care. They can give me detention for the next two years if it means Harry is pulled from the tournament. Dumbledore doesn’t speak for a long, tense moment; he just sits still and stares at me as I’m a disappointing child he can’t figure out how to push in the right direction. 

“Are you quite finished?” He says finally but I don’t respond. I just grit my teeth and hold back what I think of him at this moment. “Good. Now I consulted with Mr. Crouch on this issue last night and he stated, as I have already told you, that the rules are absolute. If a person’s name comes out of the Goblet of Fire, regardless of age or intent, they are obligated by a magically binding contract to participate. While Harry must compete, I assure you that I am doing everything in my power to discover exactly how his name ended up flying out of the goblet.” Dumbledore sits forwards and folds his hands on his desk, his eyes boring into me over his crescent moon spectacles. I hold his gaze for a moment before looking up at McGonagall but she doesn’t quite meet my eyes so I look back to the Headmaster, the supposedly most powerful wizards alive. “Now, will that be all, Miss Potter?” 

I swallow a scoff, biting the inside of my cheek so hard I’m sure it's bleeding. After a moment, I stand from my chair and step towards the large desk, now looking down at the man. 

“If anything happens to my brother, I will hold you personally responsible,” I say slowly, leaning my hands on his desk. 

“I have no doubt, Miss Potter. You are every bit your parents’ child, after all,” he says pleasantly, as if we were having a pleasant chat about my goals in life. This time I don’t hold back my scoff as I push away from the desk and turn on my heel, leaving his office and slamming the door behind me. 

I storm back into the Gryffindor Tower and head back into my room, the long walk through the castle doing nothing to lessen my anger. I open the door to my room to see Harry and Mattheo talking very seriously by the fire. At the sound of the door, both their heads whip to me and Harry’s eyes meet mine. 

“Mia, I swear I didn’t-” 

“I know,” I respond immediately, knowing my brother well enough to know glory isn’t something he chases. “I just came from Dumbledore’s office…” I look over Harry’s shoulder to Matt, who’s looking down at the fire. 

“What did he say?” Harry asks, a small sliver of hope in his eyes. 

“He said there’s nothing to be done, I can’t believe it but he didn’t budge,” I sigh and shake my head and the tiny sliver of hope in his eyes fades. I step further into the room and wrap my arms around him, one hand on the back of his head as he rests his forehead on my shoulder and his arms around my waist, the way we’d hold each other when we were little and scared; although now he’s several inches taller than me. 

“I’m so sorry, Haz,” I whisper, blinking tears away, refusing to show him how truly terrified I am for him. “I’m gonna help you, okay?” I say, pulling back to look into his eyes, “I’ll teach you anything you need to know, we’ll get you through this. I promise.” 

“I know, Mia. It’s not your fault,” Harry says quietly. 

“Did they tell you about the first task?” Harry nods. 

“Supposed to test our courage they said but wouldn’t say how. It's on the 28th, we can’t ask for help from teachers and we can only have our wands with us.” 

“Don’t give you much to go on, huh?” Mattheo adds quietly. 

“I’ll put together a list of spells that might come in handy, and I can teach you the ones you don’t know already. And I’ll see if I can find any information on what the tasks have been in the past, see if we can get any idea of what you’ll face and I’ve written to Sirius and Remus,” Harry startles for a moment at me using Sirius’ real name, glancing at Mattheo for a moment but he must not care that I’ve told him because the look faded quickly, “Maybe Dumbledore will listen to them or maybe they have some information about the Tournament, but let's not worry about it today, okay?” Harry nods again, his eyes cast down. 

 “I have to go to this stupid photo thing,” he says quietly and I watch as Harry moves to the door and opens it slowly, like going back into the world is the last thing he wants. 

“Hey, Haz,” I call, causing him to turn around, “Don’t listen to anyone else, ‘kay? We know the truth, what anyone else thinks doesn’t matter.” Harry nods, forcing a small smile my way before stepping out of my room, the door closing behind me. 

As soon as the door closes, all the strength drains from my body and I slump onto the edge of my bed, head in my hands as tears threaten to spill over onto my cheeks. 

“Harry’s a smart kid… He’ll be okay,” Mattheo says softly, as I hear his footsteps coming closer till he is kneeling in front of me, his hands on my knees, rubbing small circles with his thumbs. I drop my hands from my face and look at my boyfriend, his warm brown eyes filled with worry and sympathy. 

“What if he’s not okay? I mean they added an age requirement for a reason and even then they made no assurance of safety. What if he-” My throat tightens as tears spill onto my cheeks and panic threatens to overtake me again but Matt stands and pulls me into his arms, my head resting on his chest, his heart beating softly. 

“He’s gonna be okay, princess. We’ll help him and he’ll get through it just like he always has,” he says softly, rubbing my back and running his fingers through my hair. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

“Why would anyone do this to him?” I ask distantly, only one or two names come to mind but I hesitate to speak them outloud, realizing for the first time in a while that the man standing in front of me is his son, and the second is his uncle. He wouldn’t… No, he couldn’t have, he’s not old enough. Get it together, Euphemia. 

“Mia, I promise I had nothing to do with it,” Mattheo starts, seeming to read the direction my mind went. 

“No, I know,” I say quickly, standing up and cupping his face with my hands. “I trust you, Matt. Promise… Do you think Malfoy’s father might have something to do with it? He did give Ginny your father’s diary a few years back.” Mattheo’s face scrunches up in thought and steps back, shaking his head. 

“I don’t know if Lucius is crafty enough for something like this,” he says quietly. “The diary would have been easy to slip into her things and easy to hide his guilt but… I can’t even fathom how you would trick a magical object like the Goblet of Fire.’ 

“But who else? Do you think…” Mattheo turns to me quickly, a dark look flashing in his eyes. 

“My father is dead,” he says bluntly. 

“Right… No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought him up,” I say, hugging my arms across my core, my bottom lip caught between my teeth as I think. 

“It’s alright, I don’t blame you. It’s a… natural leap, I guess.” Mattheo and I stand there in the tensest silence since he cornered me at the start of term. I take a step forward and pull Matt’s face down to mine, connecting our lips. 

“I trust you,” I mutter between kisses, and his arms wrap more tightly around me, pulling me so close I feel like we might just melt together. 

“I know, princess. I trust you too,” he whispers back, resting his forehead against mine. “It’s all good, baby.” 

✦

13 november 1996

I used to think that my fourth year, when Harry and I were suspected of opening the Chamber of Secrets and treated like social pariahs, was the worst case scenario. Well, let’s just say that this time around, no one is afraid we will petrify them so they’ve gotten much braver. Malfoy, charming as ever, managed to get his hands on a bunch of Hermione’s S.P.E.W. badges and transformed them into buttons which read all sorts of nasty things: Potter Stinks, Support Cedric Diggory, the REAL Hogwarts Champion, Diggory Rules, Potter Drools etc. Half the school is wearing them, much to Hermione’s dismay since barely anyone wore her version of the badges before. 

Mattheo, protective as ever, has spent much of his time glaring at anyone who dares to look at me sideways and has gotten into multiple fights in defense of me. I’ve pulled him out of two confrontations today alone, and we’re barely halfway though the day. Honestly, with how many fights he gets in, I’m surprised they haven’t taken his prefect badge away yet. The Twins have been enacting vengeance in their own ways, mostly through pranks and charming the buttons to say nasty things about the wearer instead. 

Harry and Ron are at odds, also, so Harry has been spending more time than normal with me. I’ve been trying to help with defensive spells and curses to prepare him for the first tasks and he is picking them up quickly, but it doesn’t help much to assuage our anxiety. 

“Hi Potter, how’s your day going? Like the badge?” Elladora coos from behind me in the library, pulling my mind from my studies. Typical that she chose the only period I don’t share with Mattheo today to come taunt me. I’ve got a free period after lunch while Matt is stuck in Arithmancy. 

“Bugger off, Lestrange,” I say without turning or looking up from my Potions essay. 

“What? You don’t want to see my badge?” She says, stalking around me before leaning over the table, but I still don’t look up. 

“Honestly, I couldn’t give fewer shits about anything having to do with you,” I say with a flat tone, flipping through my text book. 

“Hm, well, it’s alright I suppose. I’ll have plenty of time to show it off. Real shame you’ve drug Mattheo into your mess and sullied him with your tainted blood,” Elladora coos cruelly. 

“You do know that he's a half blood, yes? Just like me,” I say simply, finally looking up at the girl. She wears a Potter Stinks badge, her unruly dark hair tied up in a bun so as to ensure the badge is always visible. “So either we are both tainted or neither of us are. You can’t have it both ways, Ella,” I continue, purposefully using her nickname and her lip curls up in a sneer. 

“Half Blood bitch,” she sneers, leaning closer to my face but I don’t back up, determined to not give Elladora Lestrange a single second of satisfaction. 

“Damn, got me there. How’d you come up with your insults? They’re just so unique,” I snark back dryly and stand, grabbing my belongings to push past the Slytherin girl to find somewhere with actual peace. 

“Your brother is going to die,” she calls after me, stopping me in my tracks. “Everyone knows it.” Without even thinking, I drop everything from my arms and whip around, punching Elladora straight in the nose so hard she stumbles back into the table I was sitting at, all the anxiety and anger and stress from the last few weeks boiling over. Luckily, I had chosen to set up in a back corner of the library, so no one is currently around to witness my outrage. The girl sits on the floor, blood beginning to drip from her nose as she glares up at me. 

“Keep mine, my brother’s and my boyfriend’s names out of your disgusting prejudiced mouth, or I’ll do a lot worse next time,” I say lowly, anger coursing through my body as I turn on my heel, summon my belongings back into my arms with wandless magic and storm out of the library, through the castle and up to the Astronomy Tower. 

I’m there nearly an hour later when Mattheo climbs the steps, coming to meet me after his Arithmancy lesson. “Hey, Princess,” he says lightly and I turn my head to face him, offering him a half smile. “Oof, that bad, huh?” he asks, pulling out his own cigarette as I take a drag of mine. 

“Just tired,” I say softly, looking out over the grounds, the trees have almost all lost their leaves and the color seems to be leaking from the world under the gray sky. 

“Oi! Potter!” Theo’s voice echoes up the stairs, accompanied by heavy footsteps. 

“Mia! Are you up here?” Fred’s voice calls and both Mattheo and I turn around to see Enzo and Theo bounding up the stairs, followed surprisingly by Fred and George. While our friends have each, for the most part, accepted mine and Mattheo’s relationship, getting them to all be friends has been a little more challenging. Well just the boys really; Astoria, Angelina, Alicia and I all get on great. 

“Is it true?” Enzo huffs breathlessly, hunching over as he tries to catch his breath.

“Is what true?” Mattheo asks, looking between the three of us. 

“Mia sucker punched Ella! We saw her running to the infirmary with blood dripping from her nose muttering about that ‘stupid Potter bitch.’” Theo says. 

So if it is true?” Freddie asks, recovering his breath. 

I hold up my right hand, knuckles turning slightly bruised already and Theo, Enoz, George and Fred start cracking up. 

“Oh man, what I would’ve paid to see that!” laughs Enzo. 

“Can’t blame you, honestly. I’ve been wondering when the perfect act was gonna crack under the pressure.” Theo responds. 

“Good on you, Phe. She’s been asking for that for years!” Freddie whoops, high fiving George. 

“What happened?” Mattheo asks seriously, cradling my hand in his. I just shrug. 

“She was being a bitch, doesn’t matter,” I sigh, leaning back against a stone pillar and taking a final drag of my cigarette before stubbing it out and flicking it over the edge of the tower. 

“Mia…” Mattheo says, stepping closer to me, holding my gaze intently. the intensity between us causing the other two boys to quiet down for a moment. 

“She said Harry is going to die,” I whisper, barely able to utter the words, as if speaking them allowed will make them a reality. Mattheo’s face hardens before my eyes and I can practically see the battle raging behind his eyes, to stay and comfort me or go after her. “It’s whatever, I took care of it.” 

“Are you okay?” He asks and I nod. “Hand hurt?” 

“Yeah,” I admit, flexing my hand slightly.

“Kinda wish I was there. I bet you looked so hot,” Mattheo mutters, looking down at me, my hand still held gently in his. 

“You’re ridiculous,” I chuckle. 

“Man, Mia, I can’t believe you actually punched her!” George laughs, shaking his head. 

“Listen, we were going to plan a prank on Malfoy for making those bloody badges and now, we can extend the target rage,” Fred says, deviously. 

“We’ll help,” Enzo offers, patting Theo on the back as well. 

“Really?” George questions, looking suspicious. 

“Hell yeah,” Mattheo says, “They need to pay.” 

And I watch as the five boys all smile deviously at each other, and I can’t help but smile as I watch some of my favorite people in the world get completely and totally on the same side for once. 

a/n; im a dumbledore anti if you cant tell lmao also ik we all hate elladora, i hate her and she’s my oc lmao but i do kinda have fun writing her esp this chapter lol

also I’m gonna be traveling for a few weeks so idk how much time I’ll get to write/post but i will let you know day of when i post and if you want to be added to the taglist lmk!! thanks for reading as always loves❤️

taglist; @purplegardenwhispers @somethingswiftandstyles @weasleyreidstyles @mayamonroem @girlbooklover555 @abaker74 @stxrsberkshire

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #matteo riddle #harry potter fandom #hogwarts oc #hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hp fanfic #wizarding world #hogwarts houses #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo riddle #slytherin boys #matty riddle

[fanfictionalraven]

Dream Warriors Chapter 4

Title: Dream Warriors Chapter 4

Summary: Sam and the reader discuss her dreams. Dean and the reader make some progress on the case and their relationship.

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, other original characters

Word Count: 3,700

Warnings: Mentions of miscarriage, angst

Read Chapter 3 here.

You and Sam both continue to stare at your perfectly healed hands. All traces of the burns were now gone. You look up at Sam, tears stinging your eyes.

“You saw that, right?? I’m not going crazy. You saw that too,” you practically beg. He nods his head slowly, trying to process what he’d just witnessed.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” He asks. You shake your head quickly, looking back at your hands.

“I wish I knew,” you mumble. You flex your hands slowly, wiggling your fingers as well. “I’ve been having these dreams. We thought it was just stress from the miscarriage and due date but now…”

“Dreams?” Sam asks, watching you closely. You look up at him and nod.

“It’s all so normal. No monsters. Our families are alive. Dean and I are very clearly in love but I married someone else who’s been cheating on me. You finished school and you’re getting married to Jessica,” you tell him. He frowns a little more and nods. “When I’m there, when I’m in the dreams, all of this is just a dream. A dream I hardly pay attention to. And it all feels real, holding my daughter feels real.”

“The burns?” He asks, cutting his eyes to your hands.

“I went to get a pie from the oven in a rush and forgot potholders,” you explain. He nods again then shrugs his shoulders.

“Okay, ugh…normally, I’d agree that it’s just your subconscious but…” He trails off and you nod. “What are you thinking? A spell? A djinn maybe?” He asks as he makes his way back to his laptop. You frown, pulling your knees into your chest.

“I don’t know what to think, Sam,” you tell him. He nods and starts to type on his computer. You sit in silence for a moment before looking around. “Where’s Dean?”

“Went to talk to the sheriff again,” he says, picking up John’s journal. You roll your eyes, throwing the blankets off of yourself.

“The sheriff isn’t going to talk to him. Why didn’t he wake me?” You ask as you move to your bag. You open it to find that Dean had taken your fed clothes last night and put them away neatly.

“He wanted to let you sleep as much as possible. You really scared him last night,” he says. You stop what you’re doing and look at him, confused. “When you heard that baby crying?”

“That was Ella,” you say. He raises an eyebrow in question and you sigh, looking back into your bag. “My daughter. I mean – the baby in my dreams.” Sam frowns as he watches you.

“Y/N, she isn’t real,” he reminds you. Rolling your eyes, you rise to your feet, clothes in hand.

“I told you, Sam. When I’m in the dreams, she’s the realest thing in the world. I’d give my life for her in a heartbeat,” you tell him. He nods slightly.

“Well try not to do that. Minor injuries may heal but dying?” He asks. You frown and nod, turning for the bathroom. “Want me to call Dean?”

“I’m not gonna tell him,” you inform Sam before closing the door behind you. You hear his chair scrape the floor before he approaches the door.

“What do you mean you aren’t telling him?” He asks. Sighing, you begin to change clothes.

“He’s already worried about me enough. I’m not giving him more reason to,” you call through the door to him.

“Y/N, something is hurting you in your dreams. That’s not something you should hide from him,” he says. You finish buttoning up your shirt and pull the door open again.

“Please. We can figure this out. Me and you,” you plead with him. He shakes his head slightly, conflicted.

“Nothing good ever comes from any of us keeping secrets, Y/N. You tell us that all the time,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. You reach out and place your hands on his arms gently.

“Sam, I’m begging you. Just…one day. Let’s see what we can find in one day and if we don’t get anything or if things get worse tonight, then I’ll tell him,” you say. You bite your lip, waiting for his response. A car door closes from just outside the room and your pleading look turns to panic. “Sam, please.”

“Okay. Fine. One day,” he relents, turning back towards his table in the corner. You let out a sigh as the door to the room opens and Dean steps in. He’s got three cups of coffee and a white bag in his hands. He smiles widely when he sees you.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty finally woke up,” he teases, setting the breakfast he’d picked up down on the table. Sam takes one of the coffees and looks into the bag.

“Find anything out?” He asks, pulling a glazed donut from the bag. Dean picks up the other two cups and starts towards you.

“Well, they finally got an ID on one of the victims. Monica Lester. Married. From a town about an hour east of here,” he informs you both. He holds one of the cups out to you and you smile a little, taking it. You thank him and he winks at you before sitting on the edge of the bed. “Sheriff Anderson has so graciously agreed to let me do the notification.”

“I’ll go with you,” you tell him before taking a drink from the coffee. He frowns at you and shakes his head.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. The man just lost the woman he loved and their unborn baby, Y/N,” he says. You sigh and nod, walking over to the table.

“And if anyone can understand at least part of that, it’s us,” you tell him as you reach into the bag yourself.

“Yea, just part of it, sure,” Dean mumbles, rising to his feet. You look at him quickly.

“What?” You ask. He smiles a little and shakes his head, walking over as well.

“Sammy, you good to stay back and keep digging?” He asks. Sam glances between the two of you before nodding.

“Yea, I’m fine,” he says. You give him a pointed look and he nods his head once. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

The two of you load into the front seat of the Impala and begin the hour-long drive to the first victim’s house. The ride is quiet, neither of you saying much at all. The invisible wall between you, that you had just started to believe could be torn down, now seemed to be reinforced and even bigger somehow. Dean parks the car on the curb in front of the house and the two of you look over at it.

“You sure about this?” Dean asks. You look over at him.

“Oh, now you’re talking to me again?” You ask. He stares at you for a moment, seemingly stunned. “Yes, I’m sure. Come on.” Pushing the door open a bit too violently, you climb out of the car and slam the door. Dean gets out quickly and rushes around.

“I don’t know why you’re mad at me, but you don’t have to take it out on the car,” he says, fixing his tie. You stop in your tracks halfway across the yard. Dean gets only a few steps ahead of you before stopping and looking back.

“I just wish you’d talk to me,” you tell him. He shakes his head, taking a step towards you.

“Talk to you? Y/N, I try to talk to you all the time. You shut me down,” he huffs, exasperation clear on his face. You stare at him before walking to the front door quickly. “See??”

“We’re on a job, Dean,” you insist, reaching for the doorbell. He grabs your hand before you can make contact with the button, holding on to you tight.

“Y/N,” he pleads. You pull your hand away from his and press the button, hearing the bell ring inside. Footsteps quickly approach the door and Dean straightens up, reaching into his coat pocket as you do the same. The door opens and a man, around the same age as you and Dean, looks between you.

“Chris Lester?” Dean asks. The man nods, panic quickly spreading across his face. “We’re with the FBI. Agents Wayne and Prince. Could we speak with you?”

“Oh God,” he prays, voice trembling. You reach out and place a comforting hand on his arm.

“We should sit down,” you tell him. He nods his head slightly before turning to lead the way. You two follow and Dean pushes the door closed, glancing around the house. Mr. Lester leads the two of you into what seems to be the living room of the house. He sits on the edge of an arm chair as you and Dean take seats on the couch. The man leans forward and wrings his hands nervously.

“Is this about Monica?” He asks. You glance at Dean and he sighs, looking down at his own hands.

“Mr. Lester, we’re sorry to have to inform you but…your wife’s body was found three days ago about an hour from here,” Dean tells him.

Chris’ face falls slowly as each word is processed. You can see the moment his heart breaks in his eyes. He slumps forward with a wail and Dean quickly reaches out, catching him. You allow Mr. Lester a few minutes with his grief before Dean speaks to him again.

“I know it’s hard but we need you to answer a few questions so we can catch whoever did this.” Chris nods and slowly moves himself back into the chair. Dean sits back on the couch and straightens his jacket.

“Can we get you anything?” You ask. Chris shakes his head and wipes at his cheeks.

“No. You, ummm, you have questions?” He asks, voice still thick with tears. You nod and look at Dean.

“Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt your wife?” He questions. Chris shakes his head, looking at his hands.

“No one. Monica is…” He stops and swallows back more tears. “She was an amazing woman. Everyone loved her. What happened?” You frown and shake your head.

“We’ll spare you the details for now but it doesn’t appear that she suffered,” you tell him. He nods slightly, running his hands over his face.

“Why would someone do this?” He asks, starting to lose it again. Dean reaches out, placing a comforting hand on Chris’ shoulder.

“It’s not going to make sense. No matter what we find out. Believe me. I know how you feel,” he tells him. Chris looks up at him and you bite your lip, looking down at your hands. “About three months ago, my girlfriend went to the store. Broad daylight in a crowded parking lot, a man stabbed her. She was six months pregnant. I lost them both that day.” You look at Dean quickly, fighting back tears. Chris shakes his head slightly. Before you can say anything, the sound of little feet running causes you all to sit up straight.

“Daddy.” A little girl, about four or five, runs into the room. “Who are you?” She asks, looking between you and Dean. Chris wipes at his eyes before forcing a smile.

“They’re friends,” he tells her. You put on your best smile before rising and walking over to her.

“My name’s Y/N. What’s yours?” You ask, kneeling down in front of her. She smiles back at you widely.

“Claire,” she says. Your smile widens a little.

“I have a friend named Claire,” you tell her. “Could you show me your room?” She nods quickly and takes your hand, pulling on it. She leads you up the stairs and into an adorably decorated princess bedroom where she immediately runs over to her dollhouse.

You take a seat at a little tea table in the corner where you spend the next several minutes being introduced to a number of dolls. This is immediately followed by a Barbie fashion show, Claire showing off all of her outfits. While you smile and laugh at the young girl, you can’t help but think back to what Dean had said. I lost them both that day. It felt like the final nail in the coffin that now held your relationship.

After a few minutes, a gentle knock at the door draws your attention. It opens and Chris steps into the room, a sad smile on his face. He tells you that Dean is outside and you say goodbye to Claire before going downstairs. Stepping out onto the porch, you find Dean in the yard on his phone, presumably with Sam.

“Yea, sounds good. We’ll see you later,” he says before hanging up. He drops his phone back into his coat pocket. “He’s got the names of the other two victims. They’re from the same town the opposite direction so he’s gonna go see their families.” You nod slightly and cross your arms, looking down. “Y/N…”

“I’m not dead, you know,” you cut him off. He scoffs a laugh causing you to look up.

“Yea, I know. Do you?” He asks. You stare at him, stunned. “I tried talking to you in the car and you were practically catatonic. You’re mourning. I get that. I am too. But I’m not the one doing the pushing.” You shake your head slightly.

“I’m not…”

“You are! You flinch away from my touch. You barely speak to me. I want to hold you again. I want to kiss you again. I want to make love to you again. And if you aren’t ready for that yet, that’s fine. I get that. But…tell me what I need to do to fix this,” he pleads. You shake your head again, fighting back a sob, and move to walk past him. He reaches out, catching your elbow. “Y/N, talk to me!” You spin to face him, jerking your arm from his grasp.

“Get mad!!” You snap at him, shoving at his chest. He stumbles a step back. “You never got mad!!”

“I’m mad as hell. If you’d seen what I did to that demon when I found him…” He trails off and you wipe at your eyes quickly.

“Not at the demon, Dean!! Get mad at me!! Blame me!! It was my fault!!” You scream at him through your sobs. He stares at you, wide eyed, and shakes his head. “It was. I was her mother and I should have protected her better.”

“Sweetheart, I could never blame you for that. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me,” he says, reaching out for you.

“No, you’re not!! You weren’t even there!!” You insist as he gently takes your arms in his hands.

“Exactly. If I hadn’t been out on a hunt, if I had been home with you, I could have stopped him and we’d have our baby right now,” he says. You shake your head as you stare at him, bewildered.

“That’s ridiculous. We agreed you’d continue to hunt,” you tell him. He nods slightly, slowly pulling you closer to him.

“What’s even more ridiculous is you thinking I could or should blame you. From the day you found out you were pregnant, you were in full mom-mode. And it was the greatest thing I’d ever seen. You stopped hunting, stopped drinking, stopped eating junk. You were already an amazing mom and she wasn’t even here yet,” he says, his voice soft and calming. His arms hesitantly and slowly wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Your firsts clench at the lapels of his jacket, as though you’re clinging on for dear life. “Let me fix it,” he pleads. A sob breaks through as you bury your face in his chest. Dean’s chin comes to rest on top of your head as he holds you close, rubbing circles into your back.

The two of you stand in that same spot, clinging on to one another, for what feels like forever. Your sobs eventually begin to subside and Dean’s arms loosen enough for you to look up at him. His lips brush your forehead and you feel yourself smile.

“Sam’s out for a little while. What do you say we go back to the room and talk some more?” He asks, looking down at you. You nod, wiping at your cheek.

“I like the sound of that,” you tell him. He smiles a little and leaves one arm around your waist as he pulls you to the waiting Impala. He opens the door for you and you slide in all the way to the middle.

After closing the door, Dean goes around and slips into the driver’s seat. He looks at you and smiles widely as you wrap your arms around his, laying your head on his shoulder. His hands come to rest on your knee, his thumb rubbing back and forth slowly as he sets out for the motel again.

The ride back is quiet again but a different, comfortable silence. You stay tucked into Dean’s side, holding on tight to his arm as he drives. Occasionally, he turns and places a kiss on top of your head. Each time, you respond with a kiss to his shoulder. For the first time in a long time, things actually begin to feel right again.

Back at the motel, you take a seat on the edge of the bed you’re sharing and watch as he makes his way around the room. He removes his suit jacket and lays it across the back of a chair before starting to loosen his tie. You smile as you watch the muscles in his shoulders through the tight dress shirt he’s wearing. You’re on your feet before you have a chance to second guess yourself. Slowly, you wrap your arms around him from behind. He tenses up for only a split second before relaxing in your arms. Standing on your toes, you press a kiss against his shoulder blade.

“I love you,” you whisper into the fabric of his shirt. His fingers ghost over your arms before he turns to face you. You pull your arms in between the two of you now, your hands resting on his firm chest. He caresses your cheek with the back of his fingers before quickly closing the distance between you. Your lips move together in unison as he grips at your hips, pulling you impossibly closer.

************************************************************************

Later in the afternoon, you’re lying on top of Dean, your arms crossed over his bare chest as you watch him. He smiles at you sleepily and you can’t help but laugh.

“Wear you out?” You ask. He shakes his head, his hands running over your exposed back slowly.

“Nah, I’m good,” he says. You smile as you watch him for a moment. He reaches up and pushes your hair behind your ear gently.

“I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you apologize. He smiles a little and shakes his head.

“We’re gonna be okay, Sweetheart,” he assures you. You nod slightly before stretching up and catching his lips with yours once more. He smiles in the kiss and threads his fingers into your hair.

The door opens suddenly and you pull away from Dean with squeak as Sam comes into the room.

“Hey – come on, guys!!” He says, turning his back quickly. Dean smirks at you as you scramble to pull the sheet across your chest. “I asked if you wanted a separate room for a reason.”

“Calm down, Sammy. What ya got?” Dean asks, pushing himself up in the bed. Sam glances over his shoulder slowly to make sure you’re covered before turning to face the two of you again.

“I’ve got a pretty solid lead on the Manananggal,” he says, handing Dean a brochure. You look over his shoulder at it and frown.

“That’s just a Lamaze class, Sam,” you tell him. Dean nods slightly, opening the pamphlet.

“Yea, Y/N and I were looking into some,” he says. Sam nods quickly.

“Exactly. What better place for a monster to find pregnant women than a class for pregnant women? I checked and all the victims attended this class at least once,” he says. Dean hands the pamphlet back to him then leans over the side of the bed, picking his previously discarded jeans up.

“Worth a shot. You coming?” He asks, looking at you as he pulls them back on. You bite your lip before shaking your head.

“I don’t think that would be a good place for me right now,” you tell him. Relief washes over him before he rises from the bed and rushes to the bathroom. You watch him go before looking at Sam. “Did you find anything?” You ask him quietly. He shakes his head, frowning.

“Nothing yet,” he tells you. You frown as well and nod, looking down at your hands. The memories of the burns come back to you. “If you go to sleep, just be careful, okay?”

“Yea,” you say, nodding slightly. Dean comes back out of the bathroom a few minutes later, fully dressed in his usual plaid and jacket combo. He smiles at you before giving you a quick kiss.

“We’ll be back. Get some rest,” he says. You smile your best and nod.

“Just be careful,” you tell him. He kisses you one more time before following Sam out the door and to the car. You fall back onto the mattress with a heavy sigh and run your hands over your face before pulling the blankets up around yourself. Your hands slips down to your stomach and you feel the scar. You know it’s real. The pain and grief. The love you have for Dean. It’s all real.

“This is real,” you repeat to yourself over and over, a steady mantra as you drift off to sleep in the late evening.

“This is real,” you mumble as your eyes open to the darkness of the very early morning. Your hand still on your stomach, you feel the smooth skin before sitting up and looking around Dean’s bedroom. “This is real,” you tell yourself, looking at the bandages on your hands.

***

Forever Tags: @roseblue373

Jensen Tags: @lostin-jensenseyes

Dream Warriors: @aylacavebear @winharry @djs8891 @suckitands33 @rickgrimeswifeu @deans-spinster-witch @jackles010378 @foxyjwls007 @cutiesarah @urinternetmom @justrealizedimmascifygurl @kr804573 @thej2report @just-levyy @snowayumi @alisyacsa

#fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #reader insert #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #supernatural fanfiction #dream warriors

[tyrianlynch]

ihatechangeihatechangeihatechangeihatechange I wish my life would stay exactly the same forever and I could live in comfortable monotony without needing to grow or adapt ever

#I miss my best friend #I miss my apartment #I miss back when I was healthy enough to stay on my career path #but now I have to make new friends and adjust to my new apartment #and I have to figure out what to do with my life now that I’m too sick to be a teacher #I want to go back to school to study child psych #but realistically I would like to have a job so I can have my own money #and I can’t do both #I’m not even sure I can do one #I just want to turn back time to when I was healthy(ish) and had my best friend and my pets and felt settled #I hate that everyone keeps growing and changing because it always ends with me getting left behind