#are all just like. history. ever read a world history textbook or did you sleep all through your history classes?

[doberbutts]

Thank you for defending Nazis. They're just little guys. Just misunderstood, with genuine grievances. I noticed you accidentally forgot to defend child rapists. Dumb commies like you are all the same 🙄

Piss on the poor! Also I'm not a commie and never claimed to be one.

#anyway 'Germany was hurting after WWI which allowed Hitler to rise to power' #and 'antisemitism was escalating at an alarming rate which created a very dangerous situation for Europe's Jewish population' #and 'by leaning into the antisemitism that already existed in Germany at the time Hitler was able to rapidly radicalize Germany's population #are all just like. history. ever read a world history textbook or did you sleep all through your history classes? #case in point if you're not able to identify why or how things got that bad then you're doomed to follow the same path

[atlafan]

Carnal Attraction - Part One

a/n: sexology professor!harry is here!! Just a reminder, this is the only part being posted on here. The rest will be on Patreon. I can’t wait to know what you all think so far. This is going to be a good one, I think.

Warnings: talk of sexual acts, mentions of sexual misconduct

Words: 4.7K

Tumblr Masterlist I Patreon Masterlist

The world of academia is astounding. People stay in higher education for so many different reasons. Some go off to become medical doctors, others become doctors in specific fields like psychology or literature or philosophy. Some choose to stay in academia because they don’t want to sell their souls to industry work. Mavis always loved school. She was one of those kids that did well no matter what the subject was. She studied hard, wanting to take in more and more information. She was naturally gifted in the art of time management. Everything clicked for her. If something was puzzling, she’d figure it out.

There isn’t much she can’t figure out. Which is why she’s grown increasingly aggravated with her sexology professor. She can’t figure him out. She swears he hates her. He’s short with her, and less personable with her than he is with the other students. She’s never struggled like this with someone before. And he wasn’t even supposed to be the one teaching her courses!

When Mavis tells people she’s in graduate school for a master’s in sexology, they look at her funny. Furrowed eyebrows, puzzled facial expressions, etc. No one can ever piece together why someone would get an advanced degree in a subject like this. That’s because people can’t get their minds out of the gutter. In undergrad, Mavis majored in psychology, and minored in gender and sexuality studies. She eventually wants to produce literature and perform psychoanalysis on sexual behavior and sexual issues. She thought she wanted to be a psychiatrist, but that involves medical school. And as smart as she is, she’s rather squeamish when it comes to blood. So, then she thought maybe being a psychologist, some type of sex therapist would be good, but she honestly has a tough time speaking aloud about the various subjects. And sex therapy isn’t just for helping couples have better sex, a lot of it is helping people with history of sexual abuse recover and find ways to heal. Mavis doesn’t have the stomach for that. She cried too many times reading case studies about it in undergrad.

All that being said, she eventually wants to get her doctorate in psychology with a concentration in sexology, so when she found a graduate program to help get her started on that journey, she went for it. She could write about sexual disorders and the like all day. When she’s writing and researching, she’s quite helpful to others. She enjoys learning about sexual history, those were always her favorite courses. Learning about how trans people in the 1800’s used binders to hide their breasts, learning about how two opposite sex couples would get married, go in on a duplex together, and use the basement to sneak over to sleep with their same sex partner, learning about different gay and lesbian liberation movements, the HIV/AIDS epidemic, and so much more was where her interest was. It all just fascinated her, it all astounded her, and a lot of it just made her downright upset. Tears would litter her textbooks as she read about people being beaten senseless until they were left for dead in the streets. She’d cry because all of it was happening not too long ago. She cried because it still happens today.

She’s quite empathetic, and almost too much to a fault. But she can’t help that she cares! She enjoys studying the psychology side of things, how the brain functions of these people work, how the brains of bigots function, if there’s a disparity between the two on scans or octopuses. All Mavis wants to do is hunker down in her own academic sanctuary and research and read and write and publish.

Mavis had been assigned an advisor over the summer, one whom she emailed with frequently to make sure she was taking the correct courses in the correct sequence. Her advisor recommended courses with one specific professor, Professor Amaro. Apparently, her classes were top tier, and she was a favorite amongst the other graduate students. No brainer – sign up for Amaro’s courses.

Except when Mavis showed up for her first day of Human Sexuality, a co-requisite for her Sexual Pleasure Education course, there was a man standing at the podium, hooking his laptop up to the HDMI cable so he could project onto the screen up front. At first, she thought maybe he was a TA just setting up for Professor Amaro. She paid it no mind. She found a seat in the middle front, and got her own things set up. It’s syllabus week, so there won’t be much to go over, but Mavis still likes to take handwritten notes. She pulled her agenda, a notebook, and her copy of the syllabus out, and set them on her desk. The classroom is small, only meant to hold about twenty-five people. Mavis prefers small classrooms. She’s not a fan of lecture halls with stadium-style seating.

“Is anyone sitting here?” A woman’s voice took over Mavis’ attention. The desks are set up for two people to sit at. “If it is, I can sit somewhere else.”

“Oh! No, go right ahead.” Mavis smiled. “I’m Mavis.”

“Thanks.” The woman says with relief as she sits down. “I’m Taraji, I use she/they pronouns.”

“Nice to meet you. I use she/her. Thanks for letting me know yours.”

“Nice to meet you too, and no problem. It’s something new I’m trying out. I don’t…I don’t always feel like a she, you know?”

“Totally get that.”

“Sorry, I hope that wasn’t too much info too soon.”

“No worries.” Mavis waves her off. “We’re going to be talking about some real shit in this class, it’s best to just be open and honest.”

“Agreed.” Taraji takes out her own agenda and notebook. “I hate that we have to take this course in conjunction with the sexual pleasure class. I feel like I’ve taken a million human sexuality courses at this point.”

“I know, it seems a little odd, but I figure there must be more high level stuff to discuss since this is at the grad level. And review isn’t always a bad thing, I like refreshers.”

“Well, aren’t you full of silver linings?” Taraji smiles. “We need more people like that in this world.”

The girls continue to chat while the class fills in. At 10:30, the man at the front closes the door and turns the projector on, revealing his screen. Mavis’ stomach drops when she sees Human Sexuality – Professor Styles – M/W 10:30-12:00 in big bold letters.

“What happened to Professor Amaro?” She whispers to Taraji.

“Beats me.” Taraji shrugs. “Maybe we signed up for the wrong section?”

“That can’t be it, this is the only section being offered.”

The man, Professor Styles, clears his throat to get everyone’s attention. He’s wearing a button up, but it’s not buttoned up all the way. You can see his undershirt. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing quite a few tattoos. Round glasses are on the bridge of his nose, and his hair is pushed back with a couple of curls falling forward on his forehead. He looks young. Who the fuck is this guy?

“Morning, everyone.” His deep voice fills the room as he rounds the podium to stand in front of the desk attached to it. He leans back against it, gripping the edge behind him. “I’m Professor Harry Styles, I prefer to be called professor, so please try to remember that. I’m sure you’re very confused as to why I’m standing here and not Professor Amara.” He pauses to take a sip of water from his Nalgene. “I quite literally found out the other day that I would be taking over her courses. To be transparent with all of you, Professor Amaro is under investigation for sexual misconduct with her patients. As many of you know, a lot of the professors in the psychology department have their own practices outside of academia. Summer is when Professor Amaro picks up new patients. There was someone undercover seeing her for therapy, and she was caught taking advantage. It’s extremely disappointing. So, not only will she be losing her licensure, but she has been let go from the institution as well. We do not condone the abuse of patients. We also do not want someone so unethical being the one to teach our future therapists. How many of you are in here as part of the clinical licensure program?” More than half of the class raises their hands. “Right, I thought so. I usually teach undergraduate courses, but I’m fully prepared to teach at the graduate level just the same. I know many of you have already taken different iterations of Human Sexuality, but this course is integral for you so you can fully get what’s needed out of the Sexual Pleasure Education course. It says 10:30 to noon up here, but I’ll typically only be keeping you for about an hour, if that. Many of you have research and other time consuming things to do, and I want to be cognizant of that. I am also working towards my PhD, I’m about two years into my program and research.” He pauses again, knowing he just word vomited. The class is stunned with the bomb he just dropped about Professor Amaro, and they’re whiplashed going from that to the basic information about the course. “Any questions so far?”

“I have one.” A brave soul in the back raises their hand. “Which undergraduate courses do you teach? Will you need any TA’s since your load just got bigger?”

“Great question, thank you for asking. I will end up needing TA’s, but I have to wait to meet with the department chair to see what our budget is. I teach the undergraduate intro to gender and sexuality studies, and I also teach some of the higher level special topics courses. This semester I’m teaching the history of feminism, which is one of my favorites to teach, and I’m also teaching the film history course that focuses on how sex has been depicted in film since its start to the present.”

“You’re teaching a course about feminism?” Another person asks.

“Yes.” Professor Styles smirks. “It’s one of my main focuses of study. I may not be a woman, but I am a man that believes in equity and equality. Plus, I’m a huge history buff, so I enjoy teaching about how the movement began and how feminism has transformed over the years, both the good and the bad of it.”

Mavis swallows thickly. She’s a history buff too. Maybe she could be a TA for one of his classes. The extra money would be nice, and so would the bit of teaching experience if she were allowed to give a lecture or two.

“Let’s focus on this class. We’ll be going over a number of topics, and at times you may feel the need to giggle because of nerves. We’re going to discuss endorsement, communication, fantasy, masturbation, homosexuality, bisexuality, desensitization and resensitization, female and male sexuality, sexual enrichment, special problems, therapy, and cultural expression. So, this gives us a base for what we’ll be discussing in the co-requisite course. Now, I’m going to do something that I do with my undergrads, I’m going to say a ton of words and phrases that you’ll feel the need to giggle about as we discuss certain topics. This is your only chance to laugh. If you do it throughout the semester, then we’re going to have a problem. If you become a sex therapist, you can’t laugh at your patients. We’ll get into why these words make us feel nervous, and why we feel the need to laugh when we hear them.” He grabs the remote for the projector and clicks it. Everyone gasps and starts laughing when they see many words and phrases appear. “Alright: penis, vagina, pussy, cunt, cock, dick, mutual masturbation, anal, penetration, fingering, eating out, going down, blow job, hand job, sucking someone off, breasts, boobs, nipples, fetish, BDSM, whips, chains, handcuffs, threesomes, orgies, condoms, contraceptives, birth control pills, IUD, sex toys, dildo, vibrator, cock ring, lube, dirty talk, dominant, submissive, daddy, baby talk, douching, porn, clit, clitoris, prostate, prostate orgasm, orgasm, vaginal orgasm, stimulation, fucking, fisting, getting wet, wet, come, precome, squirt, squirting, ejaculation, and sex.”

The entire class is snickering and giggling and laughing, even Mavis. Hearing all of those things back to back and watching the words dance on the screen in an animated fashion is hilarious. What a fun approach to getting people more comfortable with these terms.

“There are many more words and phrases, obviously, but these will be the ones we use more often.” Professor Styles explains, smiling fondly to the class. “If you’d like to be considered for a TA position, please come up to me after you’re dismissed. “Any questions?” No one raises their hand. “Great, then you’re dismissed. Enjoy the nice weather.”

Mavis and Taraji exchange contact info, and agree to meet for coffee tomorrow morning before their sexual pleasure course. A few people go up to Professor Styles to tell him they’d like to be a TA, and he takes down their information. Mavis is the last in line, the last student in the classroom with Professor Styles.

“Name?” He asks, not looking up at her.

“Mavis Ashford.”

“Alright.” He looks up at her now, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Do you have a preference?”

“I’d love to help out in the feminism course or the film history course. I like the historical side of things when it comes to studying this content.”

“Great, those are usually the ones I have trouble finding help for.”

“Really? I’m surprised.”

“Since a lot of you are here to become licensed therapists or psychologists, not a lot of people are interested in the theoretical aspect of things.”

“Well, I definitely do not want to be a therapist. I want to do research, eventually get my PhD, like you, I suppose. I’m sad about Professor Amaro, I heard so many good things about her.”

“None of us knew about any of it. She hid what she was doing well. She had been doing it for years, supposedly.” He sighs and takes his glasses off, putting them into their case. Mavis catches how green his eyes are, almost like sage. “Did you have any other questions? I need to get across campus to my office so I can take some time to edit the Canvas courses a little more.”

“Oh! No, sorry. Guess I was just curious to know how long you’ve been teaching for. You mentioned you were in your second year of your doctoral program, so-“

“There’s a bio page for me. My listing lives under the Psychology department. I’ll keep you in mind for my special topics courses. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” Mavis watches the very flustered, unorganized man leave the room in a rush. His papers were all over the place, and he just shoved all his things in his bag. How chaotic. Maybe if she’s able to become his TA, she could help him with that.

**

Since Monday went so well, including Mavis’ other courses, she’s excited for Tuesday. She meets Taraji for coffee, as planned, and then they head to class. A course about Sexual Pleasure Education at 9AM is wild, but if coffee doesn’t wake the class up, the content of the course sure will. Harry is at the podium, connecting his computer, just as he did yesterday. Mavis and Taraji sit at the same table they did yesterday. The class eventually fills in, and Harry turns the projector on.

“Let’s see, did I scare anyone off since yesterday?” He asks out loud, but it’s more for himself, as he checks off names on his attendance sheet. “Great, you’re all here.” He smiles. “I know you’re probably thinking how I could have possibly memorized all your names already, but I haven’t. I just have your student ID pictures next to your names on my sheet.” He leans back against the table, gripping the edge of it, same as he did yesterday, and scans over the class. “Welcome to Sexual Pleasure Education. In this class, we will discuss strategies for improved sex life, sex aids, sexual approaches, and male and female pleasuring. We will also be stressing the value of various body work techniques for persons intending to work in the field of sex therapy and counseling. Lastly, we will discuss sexological exploration of objects which have been created in response to sexual desire and experience.” He pauses to take a sip of water. “Basically, this is sex ed on crack.”

“Professor Styles?” A girl in the back raises her hand, and he nods for her to continue. “So, are there going to be, like, demonstrations in class?”

“Yes. Most people learn best by doing. And it’s important for you to know what you’re talking about if you end up becoming the type of therapist that has to make recommendations for couples. The conversations we’re going to have in this class are going to feel awkward and taboo. There are going to be days where we look at various sex toys and how to use them, and why people use them.”

“I sort of meant, like, is anything going to be demonstrated on an actual person?” The same girl asks.

“Considering that this isn’t a tantric sex workshop, no.” He smirks. “We’ll look at various anatomical diagrams to go over specific areas where people find pleasure and how best to get them to feel it in those areas.”

“Professor Styles?” A boy in the front raises his hand, and Harry nods for him to continue. “I know this isn’t technically a psychology course, but are we going to get into kinks and why some people have specific ones or like using specific objects?”

“Yes and no. We’ll discuss the psychology behind kinks in our Human Sexuality course. What we do on Mondays and Wednesdays will be more theoretical, and what we do on Tuesdays and Thursdays will be more practical. Great questions so far. Anyone have anything else?”

“Will there be trigger warnings?” Taraji asks. “For both classes?”

“Yes, when we get into some of the heavier topics, there will be trigger warnings. I’m working on updating the syllabus so you’ll all know when to expect those. If the topic is so heavy that you don’t feel as though you can come to class, please let me know so we can have a one-on-one session so we can go over the material. I can meet in-person or on zoom.”

“Thank you.” Taraji smiles softly.

“Are we going to be talking about our own personal sex lives in class?” Another girl asks.

“That depends on how comfortable you feel. We may share anecdotes, and we may not. If you become a therapist, remember that what might work for you, might not work for others. However, your patients will ask you about your personal experience with some of the things you recommend to them. I’m not saying you need to shove a butt plug up your ass in order to have a frame of reference, but sometimes it helps for your patient to know you’re a real person. Just don’t cross any hard boundaries. We all know that many patients tend to experience romantic feelings towards their therapists. That can happen twice as much with sex therapy. You need to make it clear right from the start that even though it’s a safe space for them, things will still be professional. No one is to ever take their clothes off during an appointment. That’s what leads to things like what happened with Professor Amaro to happen. Respect will be integral to this course, as well as not kink-shaming. You may find something weird that someone else may love, and vice versa. You don’t have to agree, but please be mindful of how you speak to and about others.” He drums his fingers behind him as he takes another pause. “All of that being said, if we do discuss personal sexual experiences, you need to speak about them educationally. I don’t want to hear things like, ‘this one time I was fucking this dude and he,’ blah blah blah. Okay?”

The class makes a collective noise of agreement that makes Harry very happy.

“I’m hoping to have the courses updated to my liking by next Monday. I should also know by then about TA positions for my undergraduate courses. Do we have any other questions right now?” No one answers. “Excellent. For tomorrow’s Human Sexuality class, I’d like you all to fill out these surveys.” He starts handing out papers row by row. “They’re to give me a pulse check on what you already know a lot about, and the areas you need a bit more information on. It’ll help for Thursday’s lesson in here as well.” Once all of the papers are passed out, Harry goes back to the front of the room. “If no one else has any questions, you’re all free to go.”

Everyone begins packing up their things. Mavis is stuck looking over the survey questions. Her cheeks are beat red, she just knows it.

“You coming?” Taraji asks her.

“Um, yeah.” Mavis blinks and starts packing up her things. “I just have a few questions for Professor Styles. Wanna get lunch later?”

“I’d love to. Text me later.”

Mavis nods to her new friend, and goes to the back of the line of students that have questions for Harry. Just like yesterday, it’s the two of them alone in the room. He doesn’t look at her as he stuffs his papers into his bag.

“Have you ever thought to use an accordion folder for all of that?” She asks him.

“You waited in line just to ask me that?” He looks up at her, taking his glasses off and putting them into their case.

“No.” She laughs sheepishly. “I just had a few questions about this survey.”

“Alright, shoot.” He tells her, crossing his arms over his chest loosely.

“The first question says to list five common sex toys that I know of.”

“Correct.”

“Then the second questions says to explain the function of each of the toys.”

“Also correct.”

“What if you’re not familiar with well-known sex toys? Is it okay to look up the functionality?”

“No, just give your best guess as to why someone would use it.” He looks at her, studies her. He has a question of his own to ask, but it could come off as inappropriate. “I’m going to try to phrase this in the most professional way possible…do you not have much, um, first-hand experience with sex toys?”

Mavis’ eyes widen. All she can do is shake her head no. Harry nods in understanding, not being the least bit judgmental.

“It’s not that I haven’t wanted to know more about them, like, I know a lot about the history of them, the…the theoretical side of things, as you mentioned before. But in practice…I guess that’s where I need to learn more.”

“That’s fine, you can just say that on the survey. You can keep it anonymous too. I didn’t leave a space for your names at the top.”

“So, it’s not a big deal if I haven’t personally done some of the things we’re going to discuss.” She says for clarification.

“Perfectly fine. You could be a virgin for all I care. You just need to be able to discuss and write about these things knowledgably and eloquently.”

“Well, I’m not a vi-“ She’s about to scoff, but he raises his hand to halt her from finishing her sentence.

“I don’t need to know the particulars of what you have and haven’t done, Miss Ashford.”

“You just said we need to be able to discuss these things, though.”

“Yes, as a class, when other people are around. Not when you’re in here alone with me. Someone could get the wrong idea about why we’re having this very conversation.” He slings his bag over his shoulder. “Don’t over think it, it’s just a pulse check.”

He leaves her there, sweating. Did he think she was coming on to him? Did he think she was flirting? She wasn’t! She would never do something like that with a professor.

**

The rest of the week goes by smoothly. Mavis makes sure not to ask Harry any questions after class. In the second session of Human Sexuality, they went through all the changes Harry made to the course Canvas page and to the syllabus. They did the same for the second session of Sexual Pleasure Education. Pretty easy stuff that the students are thankful for. The other courses Mavis is taking are research methods and a high-level sociology course. So starting off on the slower side is a major bonus. Harry lets them know that he’ll post a paper on his office door on Friday with who has been selected as TA’s.

Around noon on Friday, after a work out and a hearty breakfast, Mavis makes her way to the building Harry’s office is in. She takes her headphones out as she gets inside, and makes her way upstairs and down a hallway until she gets to the psych department office suite. His door is closed, so the paper is easy to read. Her eyes scan over it, and she’s taken aback when she doesn’t see her name. Four students were chosen: Eric, Alyssa, Mohamed, and Liza. Mavis frowns deeply. How could she not have been chosen? She spoke to Harry directly about helping with his higher level courses. What made these students better choices than her?

She hears the squeak of a sneaker skidding, and turns her head in its direction. There Professor Styles is. He looks rigid, almost like he had stopped short and was about to turn around. He sighs heavily and makes his way down the hall.

“Miss Ashford.” He nods and unlocks his office door. “I would have thought you would have been here first thing this morning.”

“Why didn’t you just email the students that got selected instead of making all of us come down here?”

“Because I didn’t make my decision until very late last night.” He tells her, opening his door and setting his things down on his desk. His office looks like a tornado hit it.

“Still, you could have emailed-“

“Miss Ashford, what is it that you need? I don’t have office hours today and I’m very busy.”

“I want to know why I wasn’t selected. I told you how much I love the history courses, I could have been a major help.”

“I’m sure that’s true, but I didn’t think you were the right fit for what I needed.”

“You came to that conclusion from only a week of knowing me?”

“I know the four students I selected better. I had them in my courses as undergrad students. They already know my teaching style and the learning outcomes of the courses.”

“Again, if you knew-“

“You need to go now.” He tells her, taking a dominant step forward, making her take a step back. “Don’t take it personally.”

“How can I not when you just told me I wasn’t the right fit?” She pouts, and she swears Harry’s eyes flicker down to her mouth, only for a millisecond.

“Mavis, I don’t feel comfortable with us being alone like this. There’s no one else in the office right now, I’m one of the few instructors that actually utilizes their space on Fridays.”

“But if you had office hours, I’d be alone with you.”

“Yes, with the door open, while other people are around.”

“Are you afraid of someone accusing you of doing what Professor Amaro did? I feel like you’re being overly cautious…with me.”

“You ask a lot of questions, and it’s annoying. You’re annoying. That’s why I didn’t select you. I don’t have any desire to be around you more than I’m already obligated to.”

“Are…are you allowed to speak to me like this?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “Or maybe not. Who’s to say? It’s your word against mine, right? No one else is here. Are you picking up what I’m putting down? I already told you I felt uncomfortable, now please go before I have to call campus police to escort you out.”

Mavis is stunned, and about ready to cry. Harry rolls his eyes when she doesn’t budge, so he goes into his office and slams the door in her face. What the fuck is his problem?!

**

#carnal attraction #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles x oc #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles au #angst #fluff #smut #fanfic #fic #harry styles fanfic #professor!h #professor!harry #sexologist!h #sexologist!harry

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

when i was a kid my school would occasionally make me memorize stuff, by which i mean that we were given instructions to learn by heart something no one would ever think you could possibly learn by any method that did not involve some time spent sweating over basic facts or phrases detached from any other kind of complexity (i am including this loose off the cuff definition to distinguish these things from math facts, which we were also expected to memorize as far as i could tell but which many educators will tell you are best internalized through frequent contextualized use in problem solving, about which i have become very skeptical). some things off the top of my head i remember are a silly poem in third grade punning on "try try again"; the US postal codes, capitals, and map locations of every US state; the beginning of the declaration of independence and the preamble to the constitution; at least the beginning and possibly more than that of the gettysburg address; the order of the books of the bible (i went to episcopalian school); the first ten digits of pi (more than anyone will ever need for the sake of a calculation you can't use a calculator for). this kind of activity is pretty much wholly out of educational fashion these days, and i'm not saying that any of these was by itself important to memorize or that they were all assigned with the best intentions (my 7th and 8th grade history teacher was i believe at the time a doctoral student at columbia, which i pieced together later when i unexpectedly had him in college for a semester; he was much better with college students than with middle schoolers, whom he like pretty obviously disliked, although i do have some sympathy in retrospect for the nightmarishly patriotic textbook series the school had selected given that he was writing his dissertation on reconstruction, and i think assigned the gettysburg address as a way to avoid lesson planning).

but recently it occurred to me that there was actually an educative outcome, at least, in being asked occasionally to engage in the exercise of memorization, which is that it meant i learned how to memorize things. i gained a fresh appreciation for this when working with a student who also has a tutor for her foreign language class because, she said, she was really struggling with memorizing the conjugations, and then later i thought to ask her how she goes about memorizing things when she needs to, and she said basically she reads them over a lot, which is, like, not a memorization technique. i'm not actually sure how i learned to memorize - i think a lot of what i did was variations on things i imported actually from how my piano teacher taught me to memorize (start from the end, repeating the last measure 3 times with the music and 3 times without, then add the measure before, first in isolation, then putting them together) - and i don't remember any of my teachers giving us explicit instruction in memorization (unless you count my latin teacher having us chant the first declension until we could do it in our sleep), although it's entirely possible they did. and i didn't know, like, all of Best Practices for memorizing (such as the spacing effect). but the stuff i did more or less lined up with some stuff that cognitive research would seem to suggest, most crucially the fact that you have to test yourself to memorize, not just review, which i think might be something i picked up from becoming aware of like the concept of flashcards, which have also fallen very much out of favor in much of ed world. (i didn't always make flashcards, but for things like latin or science vocab in high school i would write out terms or words down a page, try to write their definitions/translations/etc. next to them, check my answers, and then try to do to that again until i got them all right).

anyway. like i alluded to above, i am coming to believe more and more that memorizing - not gaining fluency with, not practicing, but straight-up memorizing, set-up and answer and no in between, again and again and again - is maybe good in math, particularly once we get to multiplication. like, the thing about kids who have learned a lot of flexible strategies for quickly computing basic multiplication facts but have not been asked to well and truly fucking Memorize them is that they are good multipliers but division is fucking hard for them, which is sort of a microcosm of my general bone to pick with the anti-memorization people. sure, if a kid knows that that 6 x 8 is the same as 12 x 4 is the same as 24 x 2 is the same as 48, they can calculate 6 x 8 whenever they want and they also know a bunch about how numbers work together and that's neat and like probably there is a place for doing that kind of thinking in math. but the payoff of memorizing 6 x 8 = 48 is not, actually, limited to calculating 6 x 8, IMO. it's about adding to your mental toolbox of facts associated with the number 48 that you can quickly, almost automatically, retrieve if it might be handy. if you have that extremely tight long term memory association between 6 x 8 and 48, it is a lot easier for you to solve, for example, the equation x^2 + 14 x + 48, or to simplify the expression (x+8)(6x + 48) / (x^2 + 16 + 64), neither of which involves calculating 6 x 8. an academically useful thing my middle school math teacher was unusual in asking us to memorize was the first 25 perfect squares in both directions (the first 25 positive integers squared, and the square roots of the first 25 perfect squares). i feel like all middle schoolers should memorize those, because it constantly came in handy in high school to be able to look at 324 and know instantly it was 18 squared.

but - all that said - i kind of also just feel like, even setting the math of it all aside, knowing how to memorize shit is like, an important and useful life skill, and there are some domains once you get advanced enough where it becomes pretty much impossible to do well or progress in actually learning them if you can't memorize, such as learning any foreign language. so, i dunno. i kinda feel like maybe giving kids the occasional dumb thing to memorize, if it comes with some guidelines & instruction on what that process should look like (modeling how to test yourself, etc.), can be... good, maybe? or at least, like, fine. although i will also say all this also makes a GREAT argument for giving kids some kind of access to a drama class or at least some mini stage-related activity of some kind each year (my school had the sixth graders do a shakespeare, which was another earlyish memorization experience of mine and more fun than the declaration of independence).

[sissytobitch10seconds]

A Pen

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Summary: Viktor had learned about siblings in the most round about, backwards way imaginable. It only made sense that the reveal of who his mystery person was would be the same way. Warnings: Viktor is referred to with his deadname and she/her pronouns until his written coming out, and mentions of canon-typical child abuse/neglect Word Count: 4,828 Ship(s): Five Hargreeves/Viktor Hargreeves

Archive link!

A/N: Thank you to both my brother and mutuals for helping me figure out how I wanted this soulmate AU to work! I don't know what it would necessarily be called out of all the heaps of soulmate AUs, lol. Thank you so much for reading this fic! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

wedding/proposal - sick fic - (accidental) love confession - "you aren't what I expected" - downpour - soulmates AU

Sir Reginald Hargreeves had made the worst possible decision out of millions when it came to educating his children about soulmates. 

Instead of telling them about the rich history that was included in how soulmates had first been discovered or even what they were, he decided that he was going to shelter them from it entirely. They were already cut off from the outside world because he refused to send them to a traditional school to get a standardized education, convinced that it would somehow disrupt the experiments that he was running on all of them. It was a normal part of every day life for those outside of the Academy, so no one had ever bothered to bring it up to them when they were doing interviews. It wouldn’t have mattered much even if they had, since Vanya was always left at home and Reginald kept a close eye over their shoulder whenever they were speaking to the press.

Reginald was very good at keeping secrets and this one in particular he knew he had to keep from them. He didn’t want them getting distracted by any kind of frivolity or attachment when they had important work and training to do. He had accounted for basically everything when it came to the curriculum that they got, fed carefully to them through Grace with censored textbooks and edited educational videos. He even made sure that they weren’t around people that would deign so low as to try and find their soulmate when others of their social standing surrounded them.

The only thing that he didn’t account for, was how rebellious teenagers happened to be. None of the windows had locks, which made for easy evacuations when they had to get up to the roof to go on an emergency mission, but it also meant that the children could leave with little to no hindrance.

Klaus had found that out a long time ago and had been sneaking out ever since. He always seemed to know exactly when Reginald was going to be running the tests where the video cameras would be on to see what they did in their sleep, and on those days he’d actually be home. Tonight was not one of those nights, and he had been running around with weed, alcohol, and other teenagers that were the same age as him. He was doing what none of the others had been allowed to do, being someone that was actually his age.

His window was just a little too far over for him to climb to with how weak his limbs felt that night, though. So he decided to try something else, which resulted in him doing a head-first summersault directly down onto Vanya’s floor.

She hadn’t been nestled up and asleep in her bed like he had first suspected she would be, but rather sitting with her back against her wardrobe and a book spread out in her lap, like she had been reading from the moonlight before she got distracted by the shapes on her ceiling. “Klaus?” she asked as she startled out of her reverie and turned so that she was facing him.

“Hi,” he smiled stupidly at her. “What are you doing awake?”

“What are you doing out of the house?” she asked in reply. She snapped the book shut and he could have sworn that while she was turned away from him and tucking it up onto her desk she was also wiping at her eyes. If he hadn’t been so terribly intoxicated, he might have asked her what she was reading even if he didn’t have the courage to ask her why she was crying.

“I can’t be out of the house?” he asked, almost whining.

“You know that you can’t. Dad only lets you guys go out on missions and for press releases. He never lets me out,” Vanya replied bitterly. She used to sneak out with them sometimes, when they were going to get donuts at the twenty-four hour cafe a block away from the Academy. Five was always the one to remind them that she existed and would want to go with. Since he was gone they had slowly stopped sneaking out together, and they had never remembered her since.

Klaus rolled his eyes and flopped down on the ground. Her room was just big enough that his head didn’t brush up against the door while his toes were touching the bottom of her nightstand. His room was the second smallest out of all the siblings, but at least he and Ben were able to comfortably lounge together in the center without wondering if they were going to dislodge the furniture. “I was out, Vanny. I was having a very fun time with some friends of mine.”

“Oh?” she replied, sounding like she would rather be talking about literally anything else. Given that Klaus could always go and find another person to talk to like he always did, though, Vanya bore the weight of her jealousy as hidden as she could.

“They taught me about something that I think dear old Dad hid from us on purpose. How would you like to be the second person in the entirety of the Academy to learn about it?” Klaus asked. He flipped around so that he was looking at his sister from his spot on the ground. She was still standing near her desk, having pushed herself up and away from him when he began to stretch out over the bare wood of her floor.

Something inside of her sparked but was quickly put out. She nodded silently as she sunk down in front of him, like if she moved too quickly it would startle him and he would disappear. For a moment, Klaus’ weed-foggy mind wondered if that was something that Five had done a lot when they were hanging out together. If he decided that Vanya was too much for him when she spoke too loud or moved too fast and vanished like he did with all the others. Klaus didn’t think so, Vanya was always something else to Five.

“So I found out,” Klaus grunted as he pulled himself up so that he was sitting on his knees and no longer spread out all over the ground. He grasped at her desk until he found what he was looking for, a ballpoint pen that they had to use for their engineering homework since it wasn’t erasable and rarely ever broke through the paper. “That if you write something down on your skin with something like this, then someone writes back to you!”

Vanya looked at him skeptically. They had all written on their palms or arms before, when they needed to get a note of something and didn’t have paper at hand. Reginald had, of course, scolded them for it immediately. He had informed them that they were not items to be vandalized and then made Diego and Five, who were the first ones to try it, spend hours in the bathroom scrubbing it off.

“I don’t think that’s true, Klaus,” she shook her head in denial. They were sitting with their legs crossed in the narrow space between her bed and the desk and wardrobe that the opposite wall held. He could feel a little bit of the heat that was radiating off of her and onto his own chilled skin as he shoved the sleeve of his shirt up on his arm. He then placed it on her knee and began to write in his messy chicken scratch. 

He wrote something simple since he was doing it with his non-dominant hand so that she could see it easier. The words sat there, alone for only a moment, before green ink matched with his own in far neater letters. “See? I told you,” he smirked.

She stared at it for a long moment, like she wasn’t able to process what she was really seeing. The clicking of shoes out in the hallway was enough to snap them out of their reverie as they realized that they were both supposed to be in bed and would most certainly get in trouble if they were caught as they were. Vanya scrambled up towards her bed after snagging the pen back form him and then left Klaus to wait until the sound was gone.

It was only after her bedroom door had softly clicked shut as he began his adventure next door to where he was supposed to be did she realize that she had snatched the item from him. She glanced down at it and then at the bit of her wrist that was exposed from underneath her pajama top. “It’s worth a try,” she breathed.

She pushed the material up, just like Klaus had, a few times, before she settled on rolling it so that it stayed up properly. She then set the tip of the pen down on her pale skin, giving herself blue freckles in her indecision. The words were coming to her slowly as she tried to figure out what she was supposed to say to this mystery person. Eventually, she realized she should start with a greeting and then see where it went from there.

-Hello

The word stood starkly against her skin, blinking back at her like the biggest mistake she had ever made in the entire world. She didn’t know why she had ever believed Klaus when he showed her something like that. While she was cut off from the outside world, she knew that basic magic tricks existed after Ben had snuck in a book about them for their twelfth birthday. It was probably a practical joke that he thought would be funny to pull on her since she had no way of fighting back.

Just as she was beginning to lose hope and panic about how she was going to get it off by morning, another writing joined her own. The word was already beginning to sink into her skin and leave lighter shades of blue in its wake, anyway.

-Who are you?

-I’m not sure I’m allowed to tell you. Did you know that this was something people could do?

-Do you mean talk to each other?

-That we could write on our arms and someone would reply.

-I did. I read about it in a book.

-What’s your name?

-I don’t want to tell you. 

-Why don’t you want to tell me?

-I don’t like my name very much. I haven’t had the time to pick out something new that I might want to be called. And I asked you first but you didn’t respond.

-Well if you’re not going to tell me your name then I’m not going to tell you mine. 

-This conversation hasn’t been going on for very long and it’s already gotten rather uncivil.

-I don’t want to be rude with you, I just don’t like being forced to be unequal with people.

-Neither do I. Can we start over, even if we don’t tell each other our names?

-I guess so. May I ask you a question to get to know you?

-Yes.

-How old are you?

-I think I’m sixteen. I haven’t been able to keep track of if my birthday has passed yet.

-Where are you that you can’t keep track of your birthday?

-Somewhere bad. I’m working on getting out of it as we speak. Sometimes I may not be able to write to you if I’m busy, I hope that you don’t mind.

-I wasn’t expecting you to write back to me at all, even after this session alone. People don’t talk to me a lot. I’m very lonely.

-I’m sorry that you’re lonely. I am as well. I’ll try to keep you company as often as I can.

-Thank you. I hope that you get out of wherever you are as soon as you can. I want to be able to talk to you all the time.

-You really are lonely if you want to talk to a stranger that you barely know.

-I don’t barely know you. I know that you’re around my age and you seem to have some things in common with me already.

-Oh yeah? Like what?

-Our handwriting is similar, we speak the same language with the same kind of accent, and we both don’t like having to talk about ourselves.

-I think I would do it if you asked.

-I can ask the next time we talk to each other. I have to go to bed and figure out how to get the last of the writing to come off before my father finds out I’ve been writing on myself.

-My parents didn’t approve of it either. I hope you don’t get in trouble and I look forward to hearing from you in the future.

---

For years, Viktor had kept a lot of things to himself. One of them had been a very big change in his life and the life of those around him, his gender. He had realized that he was trans due to the questions that his mysterious bodily penpal had asked about him. Up until that point he had completely ignored everything about himself and the kind of person that he might be. He had always been looking outward, admiring the stars that shone around him while introspecting on the black hole that was desperately trying to suck in some of their light.

Something about the way that his penpal spoke to him, though, made him do a lot of thinking. If any of the other siblings had asked him about parts of his life he would have given them some bit of the truth wrapped up int he language that he knew they would want to hear. It was different with the stranger that he was talking to, it seemed as though the other teenager genuinely just wanted to know about Viktor and what his life was like. They had conversations about almost anything that could be written down in the space of his forearm. 

It was wonderful to have a confidant that no one else knew or cared about. Someone that was there for Viktor and only Viktor, as it seemed that his mysterious stranger didn’t have anyone else that he wanted to talk to. He had never had that before. Grace was created to serve the needs of all the children and while Viktor was the one that was home the most often, she had to take care of the others during the majority of the time that they were around. His siblings couldn’t give him the time of day and Five had been missing for the majority of the last decade. Five had been the only person that he had been able to talk to like he was with his penpal, but Five had been busy with training and missions and the siblings forcing him to bond for the ‘sake of the team’, so he wasn’t just Viktor’s either. The person on the other side of his ink trail was, though.

There were times when they were both too busy to do much else other than send each other simple messages to check in with one another. Those times were fine and brought Viktor just as much comfort as the hours that he spent writing to someone he didn’t even know the name of. Just knowing that someone with real feelings, thoughts, and emotions beyond several thousand lines of code cared enough about him to ask if he was alright when he hadn’t written in a while made his whole world.

It had made him actually think about himself. Until then, the only thing that he had been doing with his life was going through the motions of what he thought might get people to look at him. He had someone that cared about him now so he didn’t have to look for that validation from his siblings as much as he did before. He began to pour himself into his schoolwork so that he could find out what he was best at versus what he actually enjoyed. He prompted Grace about homework assignments and had her branch out into stuff that would be considered college level once he had. 

Eventually he determined that he really enjoyed fiction writing, as well as op-eds about current events and old fashioned movies. He didn’t really like writing about himself because they were was so much that he had yet to figure out. He still loved music, something about the way that the notes flowed from inside of his heart and brain out into the open air around him soothed his soul in a way that nothing else did. He didn’t mind math and science bored him, especially when it started getting into the more technical sides where everything had to be related back to the powers of the others.

He also liked ballroom dancing, which had led him to him discovering the most important thing that he would in his entire life. It was a year after he started talking with his penpal when the Umbrella Academy had been asked to attend a ball and the others all needed to brush up on their etiquette. In the past, Viktor had been left out until the lesson was over and Grace or Pogo indulged his want to be included and danced with him. But with Five gone, Viktor was the one to make it an even number and thus his siblings had to use him so that they could get their practice in. 

The swirling movements of the dances made him desperately want to attend something similar to what he had read in the classics they were assigned for English. He adored the music, it was what he played most often when he wasn’t working on something specific that had been assigned by one of his teachers. The only thing that he didn’t like was that he was often forced into the following position because he was a girl.

There was something sticky about that word or phrase when it was used in reference to him, and eventually he figured out that it was because that descriptor was wrong. He had never been a girl and it was wrong to describe him as such, not that he had known any better until that very incident. It was a relief to figure out that the reason he hated looking at himself was because it was almost like he was looking at a mockery of what he was supposed to be. All the right features were there, his mouth, eyes, and nose all perfectly located around each other, but they were hidden beneath a sheet of brown when that wasn’t what was supposed to be there.

By the time that he had realized it, he was week away from attending the college that Reginald had signed him up for. Viktor chose out his new name, got his father to change it on the university’s role and then had his mother cut his hair. He didn’t bother coming out to any of them officially since he knew they didn’t care, but he did tell his penpal. It was one of the most terrifying experiences of his entire life, even if it turned out that he didn’t need to be. He had only mentioned his gender once or twice before, usually in reference to his siblings and how he was the more unwanted sister. Despite that, his penpal had made sure to affirm his gender several times in the following weeks after Viktor came out.

He had gone to college and then graduated with a degree in music and a minor in teaching. He had written a couple of children’s stories of the world that he had dreamed of when he was younger and desperately looking for something good to latch onto. They weren’t the most popular thing in the world but they had enough of a cult following that he was able to buy himself a cute cottage on the edge of the city. He also taught at a theater and played with an orchestra for a bit of steadier income.

His life had felt so stable and he had been so sure of himself with the help of his penpal, who he had come to learn was his soulmate after his college roommate had realized he had no idea who was on the other end of his arm-writing, that Viktor had actually dialed back the medication that he had been taking. It got bad right after Ben died, to the point where he could barely feel anything because he was taking so many of them to avoid the pain that came with grief. Now he took a pill with every meal, just like the bottle said and less what Grace had recommended when she saw him looking unsteady as a teenager.

His life was good and he was thriving.

That was, of course, until he saw the news of his father’s death on one of the TVs in the storefront that he always passed by on his way home. A lot of feelings had overwhelmed him at the time, to the point where he couldn’t even discuss them with his soulmate like he had when Ben died. In fact, he hadn’t said anything to his soulmate the entire time that he had been preparing for the funeral and afterwards.

Of course, the feelings had settled out when he saw his siblings again. They were as dismissive of him as they always were, but it felt less hurtful than it had when he was a teenager. He didn’t know if that was because he had a better support network through his siblings or because he was on less of the medication and thus his mind his was less foggy, but it was a welcome change. The thing that had overwhelmed him on that day was the realization that his brother was back and had been through a Hell of a journey to get there.

Viktor had just gotten home from the Academy, in desperate need of a nap, shower, and then to talk to his soulmate about everything that had happened. He was thinking about how he was going to break it down when he realized that he wasn’t alone in the house.

“What are you doing here?” Viktor asked when he noticed that it was Five pacing around in his kitchen and not the intruder that he had thought it was. He set down the umbrella that he had grabbed to defend himself. It wasn’t a good weapon, but he had never thought to put anything else around his home to defend himself.

“I just wanted to pop in on my old friend. Is that allowed?” Five asked, raising a brow at his brother.

Viktor rolled his eyes. “You could have asked to come with me from the house instead of breaking in,” he replied.

“I didn’t want any of the others to overhear about where I was going. Something is wrong with Luther and Klaus is annoying,” Five replied. He picked up the mug that was balanced precariously on the edge of Viktor’s sink and turned it over a couple of times. “I think a lot has happened since we were last in the same room together, Viktor.”

He sighed. He wanted to shower off the day and then curl up in his bed to talk to his soulmate, but it seemed like his brother needed him more. “I think so too. Do you want to have a cup of coffee and talk with me about it?”

“I don’t want to disturb your nightly ritual. I know that it was important when we were younger and I assume it’s the same now,” Five shook his head. “I’d like to ask if I can stay here, with you, for the time being. I can explain everything about where I’ve been and why I’m back now in the morning.”

“I would never say no to you, Five,” Viktor shook his head. Years had passed and he had gotten attached to someone else in the way that he had never thought possible, but Five was still the gooey core of his heart. Five was the first person to express an interest in Viktor outside of rebellion and to honestly sit and listen to him.

“I have a murphy bed in the spare room I can get ready for you. Are you going to want to take a shower?” Viktor asked.

Five thought about it for a moment before he nodded in affirmation. The other man retrieved him a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that was likely to fit him. As soon as Five was shown the bathroom and shut away in there, Viktor worked on getting things in his spare room moved around so that he could put down the murphy bed. He occupied himself with stretching the sheets over the mattress and getting out a pillow and a spare quilt from the linen closet in the hall.

After Five finished with his shower, Viktor cleaned himself off and then checked in with his brother again. “I was going to head to bed. Is there anything that you need from me before I do?”

“This is going to sound slightly odd, but would you mind bringing me a pen?” Five asked, refusing to tilt his head up to look at Viktor from where he was staring at his hands in his lap.

“You going to talk to your soulmate?” Viktor asked. He walked over to the desk and then fished out one of the ballpens that he used himself when he was doing the same thing.

“I didn’t think that you would know about them,” Five replied sheepishly.

“I’ve been living out of Dad’s house for almost a decade Five, you think that no one would have told me about soulmates in that time?” he laughed. Viktor stuck one of the pens into his pocket and the other he handed over to Five before he shut the drawer. “I hope that the time-traveling different aged body thing doesn’t screw with your ability to talk to your soulmate. See you in the morning.”

“Me too. Goodnight, Viktor,” Five said in reply as the door to the guest room shut. 

It was like a weight fell down onto Viktor’s shoulders the second that the door was closed. He realized everything that he had been going through since he had learned about his father’s death and that moment. It was a lot to process and while he knew that he could do it, he wanted to talk to his soulmate now more than ever.

He walked to his room and turned out the lights. He tucked himself under his sheets and then flicked off the cap for the pen. He couldn’t even care where it fell amongst his sheets in his rush to start writing on his arm.

-I went to my father’s funeral today. 

-Not even a hello?

-I’m sorry. I know I haven’t talked to you in a while, but a lot happened.

-It’s alright, I’ve been busy as well so I didn’t even notice. Your father dying must have been a lot for you to take in so I understand you not wanting to speak about it.

-My siblings were nice and I reunited with my brother.

-The one that you were close with when you were younger?

-Yeah. It’s a really long story that I don’t have the energy to write out right now, but he’s back. He’s staying with me in my house and we’re going to talk in the morning.

-It’s kind of funny that you say all of that. I recently came back to my own family, finally out of that horrible situation I was in and somewhere safe. I’m staying with my brother for the time being.

He stared down at the words and felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He could be wrong about so many things in his life and recover from them, but if he happened to be wrong about this then he wasn’t sure how he was going to cope. It was something that he had hoped for, that he had needed the same way someone needed to breathe, his entire life. It had been something that lived in the back of his mind for as long as he could remember. It had changed and shifted over the years as he developed as a person and learned about the world, but it had always been there.

He touched the tip of the pen to where the words from the other were beginning to fade away as they always did. His hand shook slightly as he wrote out the next, small word.

-Five?

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #ao3 #archive of our own #tua #the umbrella academy #viktor hargreeves #year of fiktor #fiktor #five hargreeves #oneshot #five x viktor #viktor x five #soulmate au #soulmate #a pen fic

[mypoisonedvine]

Epilogue for twice?

just for you, my dear!

pretty much just fluff but also implied smut and subtle breeding kink

"And so, the Soviet Army advanced through the Middle East and invaded Iran," Helmut continued, turning the page as he explained each step thoughtfully.

"Isn't he a little young for that?" you interjected, making your husband and son both turn as they realised you were leaning in the doorway.

"Never too young to learn," Helmut corrected proudly.

"Okay, well, he's eating the book, so..." you noted, making Helmut look back to where the toddler was, indeed, wrapping his mouth around the corner of the textbook in his father's lap.

"Hey, don't eat that!" Helmut scolded the little boy gently, trying to pull the book away-- but baby Heinrich reached up for it, tiny hands grasping for the pages as he started to fuss.

"He likes it!" you grinned.

"Clearly he has a taste for his father's work," Helmut frowned, relenting and letting the baby chew on the textbook, "but I didn't think it would be a literal taste."

"So the final version came in, then?" you extrapolated.

"Yeah, there are slobber-free copies in that box," Helmut explained with a tilt of his head in the direction of the box in question. You crossed the room to open it, admiring the cover of your husband's newest textbook-- you lifted the one on top to see the different versions beneath in various languages. "Apparently once I approve these, they'll start shipping out to the universities to assign for courses."

"Are you going to approve them?"

He laughed a little, stroking the thin hair on Heinrich's head as he happily chewed on the hardback cover. "Well, I was waiting for a second opinion."

You picked up the English copy and flipped it over to the back, smiling instantly at the small photograph of Helmut (one that you had taken, in fact) in the bottom corner next to his biography.

Helmut Zemo is a professor emeritus and Dean of the College of History at Novi Grad University, though he also tours Europe and the Americas to lecture on modern history and war tactics. His first textbook, Sokovian History, was taught in classrooms all over the world and is credited with reigniting a global interest in Sokovia and its heritage. He resides primarily in Novi Grad with his wife and newborn son.

Perhaps Heinrich wasn't quite a newborn anymore, since he was teething now, but he had been when that paragraph was written. "This bio is cute," you noted with a hum.

"Open it, there's an inscription as well," he nodded, and it made you wonder who he would dedicate his second book to since the first was dedicated to you. You had memorized it the second you saw it: "For my wife, who fell in love with me while taking my class. Students, study this book carefully: maybe the information inside will allow you to seduce the love of your life as well."

It still made you laugh and tear up simultaneously every time. But the new inscription made you a little confused.

For my son, Heinrich Zemo II.

"That's it?" you realised. "Nothing poignant or funny or cliched?"

"I spent more time trying to write that one little sentence than any of the chapters, believe it or not," he informed you. "Every time I tried to write something, it ended up too long. I had so much to say! I mean, how can you summarize what you want to say to your own child?"

You pondered that, appreciating that you would probably struggle with that task as well. "That's what you should say then," you decided. "Make that the inscription."

He looked down as he thought, absent-mindedly nodding. "That's... maybe that would work," he mumbled. "Would you take him for a moment?"

You leaned down and picked up Heinrich from Helmut's lap, balancing the baby on your hip and discarding the ruined textbook. Helmut grabbed a pen and opened one of the new copies of the book, scribbling something down while you bounced Heinrich around a bit to keep him entertained.

"Here, try this," Helmut encouraged, stepping back to let you read what he had added hastily.

For my son, Heinrich Zemo II. I could write a thousand textbooks with everything I would want you to know, and all the things I could say to you right now on my love for you. Or, I could write a thousand textbooks on the history of war and become the most celebrated historian ever known. Even then, you would still be my greatest accomplishment.

You sniffled, ignoring little hands tangling into your hair as you wiped a small tear from your cheek. "That's... really beautiful."

"I'll tell the editors that it needs one more final change," Helmut promised softly.

When you looked back at your husband, he had that smile on his face that made your heart soar every time. He leaned in and kissed your forehead, the three of you wrapped in one embrace together. "Thank you," he whispered.

"What for?" you asked, but you realised what he meant when he reached down to touch his son's head again and give him a kiss, too. "Oh, that," you chuckled, "yeah, any time."

He looked back to you instantly, a curious look in his eyes. "Do you mean that?" he asked softly.

"Huh?"

"Would you really have my child any time?" he repeated, and you grinned widely.

"Yeah," you nodded, watching him smile at you, too.

"Let's have the nanny entertain the boy for a while then, hm?" he smirked. "On the furthest wing of the house."

You laughed a bit, but he was clearly dead serious. "You want to get me pregnant again right now?"

"I don't see any reason to wait," he beamed. "We have so many more Zemo family names to go through! Hobart--"

"No."

"Herbert--"

"Hell no."

"Hademar--"

You scoffed. "I swear, sometimes I think you're making these up as you go. Next you're gonna say 'Hamburger.'"

"No, but I was going to say 'Hatpole,'" he admitted, "which I did, in fact, make up."

"And what if it's a girl?" you pressed. "Any Zemo family names to pass on?"

"What if it's a girl..." he pondered aloud. "Oh god, I take it all back, I want a girl. I want her to look like you. I want to dress her up in silly little outfits."

You laughed before he pulled you into a sudden kiss, soft at first but getting a little more heated with every move of his lips against yours. From your arms, Heinrich pawed at your faces and you both broke away to laugh.

"See? He wants a sister," Helmut explained. "Look at his sad little face, he's so lonely!"

The kid was smiling with his whole face, a few emerging teeth visible as he did it, but sure, 'sad'.

"I'll give him to the nanny and you can meet me in the bedroom, okay?" you offered, making Helmut smile and give you one more soft kiss on your cheek.

Of course, even knowing that he had a flair for the dramatic, you weren't expecting to find champagne and strawberries waiting for you in the bedroom, too.

"You're going all out with the seduction, huh?" you noticed with a smirk. "I'm not sure why you seem to think I need any convincing to sleep with you, lest you not recall how we'd only known each other a couple hours when I threw myself on you."

"Oh, I recall," he purred, pulling you into a hug as he started to gently kiss your neck. "But remind me?"

"I was so desperately in love with you, Helmut," you sighed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "From the beginning. I didn't know what to do with myself."

"Seems like you did," he laughed, "since you made your intentions quite clear that night in my office. You told me you were mine, while I was inside you... I knew then that you would either complete me, or break my heart."

You grabbed his face to make him kiss your lips this time, hungry with teeth and tongue and breathless moans as he carried you to bed.

#saturday night sleepover #not tagging anything cause this is gonna suck without the context of twice lol

[siriusmydeer]

hello love, i was wondering if you could do a james potter x slythering fem!reader? one where she is working so hard on getting her life together. she is trying to be different than her family and working so hard but it is getting to her. she feels like she is failing and every turn she takes is a dead end. she feels like there is no purpose to what she’s doing. i think some super fluff is required, like james boosting her up and loving her. plzzzzz & thx

his slytherin

james potter x slytherin!fem!reader

summary: when you overwork yourself james is there to save the day.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of insomnia, mentions of sleep deprivation, mentions of not eating, mentions of over working yourself, angst, sad!james, house stereotypes, bad grades, implications of smut, WOLFSTAR😍, mentions of food, a breakdown, THERES FLUFF I PROMISE

seventh year was quite literally, a mess. maybe not for others, finally done school or they were super excited to travel around the world seeing things they’ve never seen before. you’re dream had consisted of constant studying, and working that barely made any time for yourself.

for the prior three years you had studied and practiced with madam pomfrey in the healers wing to eventually become a healer yourself, and it took a lot more than you thought it anticipated.

you knew as a healer, later in life you would have to deal with artefact accidents, dementor attacks, creature-induced injuries, magical bugs, potion and plant poisoning, dragon trainers with injuries, and incredulous spell damage.

with that you had to be prepared, which meant more time hitting the books and less time spending your final year at hogwarts with your best friends and your staggering boyfriend.

(hahah u see what i did there?)

james had qued in on your restless nights by gazing across at you in the great hall. the colour of emerald green becoming frequent in his life now; surprisingly to everyone else. where you were sat at the slytherin table, your eyebags already deepening by the day and your nose buried in some sort of school book.

the thought of even being like your family, made you nauseous. you didn’t want to be like your strict, immoral family, the death eaters, the murderers, and the ministry officials. who worked like machines without feelings or care.

as a slytherin born into a pureblood family those were the expectations that were almost nailed into your back like a sign said, ‘here’s the pureblood slytherin, shame her even though you don’t know her!!’

of course those were the stereotypes, ones that had been built on for centuries since salazar slytherin himself. that you of all people had to inherit. so you had to fall, and rebuild yourself entirely for even a chance. the restless nights, insomnia, caffeine and studying was your way of rebuilding.

of course that had an effect on your grades, not sleeping, not eating and barely focusing made your grades tremble a great deal to the point where professor slughorn got concerned by his best potions makers, recent poors in his class.

you were too focused on being better that you couldn’t even focus on your own well-being, that you couldn’t even see you were hurting yourself on the people around you. almost self isolating yourself from everyone entirely.

“darling?” james whispered, his body sitting across from yours at one of the mahogany tables in the library. pince set him a warning glare not to cause any mischief as she turned around.

“hmm?” you mumbled, barely acknowledging his prescence and continuing to read your defence against the dark arts textbook, something about the ‘chameleon ghoul.’

he had barely seen you all week, and when he did he saw your agonized face scrunched up in a book and your mauve dark circles that rested below your eyes clear as day.

“why don’t you take a break, dear? have a rest, you’ve been working non-stop. ve’barely seen you.” he murmured the last bit, embarrassed for feeling ‘needy.’

“can’t jamie, newts are soon i need to be prepared.” you looked up in his direction for a moment, barely catching his saddened eyes through his spectacles at your denial of his request to finally see his girlfriend.

if this were two maybe three years ago, james would not be caught dead having a conversation with a slytherin, let alone a relationship with one. the stereotypes blinding his vision for along time before he could see what was truly in-front of him.

i mean the gryffindor pride genetically ran through his veins as he was born into the etiquette pureblood-gryffindor family himself. it was almost destined for the both of you to be corporeal enemies.

but... something about your altruistic and considerate attributes subtly changed his mind. thanking merlin, and horhace slughorn for pairing the both of you in potions in fourth year. there was always something about the way you were so gentle and benevolent with him in potions class might’ve flipped a switch in his mind.

“right then... see you later?” he muttered disappointed in himself, you work so hard to prove yourself meanwhile he didn’t even have a glare in his way because he was the perfect headboy gryffindor student; with absolutely no judgements thrown his way despite his actions towards others in previous years.

“dunno, i’m studying.” you replied, your voice monotone and dull almost raspy from barely using your voice unless answering questions in class to almost being a know-it-all and pushing yourself to the tops of all your classes.

he got up from his chair, it scraping against the floor as he walked to the exit almost like a dog with its tail between his legs. he just got so mopey by your dejected less merry self. he had to do something, he had to make you understand that being a slytherin wasn’t just you.

it was a part of you sure, but ambitious just meant you strived for your goals and you were cunning which showed your amplified skill.

that didn’t mean you were— evil? being a proud reckless gryffindor was one in his heart but nobody ever thought he was malicious.

so, james fleamont potter did the only logical thing he could think of; going to his bestfriends for help. of course at first they were not over the moon glowing in delight when they found out he was dating a slytherin, especially sirius.

but that was expected, his family being his only views on how a pureblood slytherin acted only projected onto you. giving you almost a conscientious reason to work, the thought of someone james felt was his brother perceiving you as despicable only made you pursue your self judgements.

but after your book swaps with remus, you and peters athrimancy study sessions and music bonding with sirius they grew quite fond of your personality and thought that you were due with a chance with the marauders.

“moony, i need help.” he spoke desperately as remus’ face was also buried in a book, except out of his own free will.

“james needs my help? hear that sirius? prongs needs my help.” he declared proudly as the brown-haired gryffindor groaned crossing his arms.

“it’s y/n.” he mentioned, glancing in sirius’ direction before sitting on the vermillion love seat across from the fawn haired boy.

“what about her?” remus was more-so confused, what would be so wrong with you that james had to ask him for help?

“she’s suffocating herself, the books, the studying, not sleeping, not eating, nothing. i dunno what to do anymore remus, she’s so pent up on wanting people to stop looking at her like she’s heinous she’s working herself to death!” he ranted, all his anger and agitation spilling out in one fast-paced sentence that james needed to catch his breath by the end of.

“i just dunno how to make her catch a breath, take a break. what do i do?” james panted, looking at his mates for an answer.

“imperious curse?” sirius proposed, a bad proposal but his intentions were... thoughtful. “yeah let me go use an unforgivable curse on my girlfriend so she can have a study break. no thank you, next.” james sarcastically humoured him, james didn’t want to compromise your education or use an unforgivable curse on you for that matter but you looked so incredibly burnt out he didn’t know how to help you.

“body-bind curse? so she’s like.... forced to stop?” peter suggested, looking up from his transfiguration essay catching onto the conversation as he twirled his quill between his fingers.

“or, y’know something actually logical you could do is take her books. get her lavender tea or something, let her talk.” remus finally spoke, shrugging then looking at the ‘lord of the flies’ book in his hands a smirk lying on his face knowing that would he james lucky choice.

“moony, you genius! i could kiss you!” james hopped up from his seat, on his way back to the library.

“oi! i’m the only one he’s going to be kissing, prongs!” sirius yelped as james walked out of the portrait hole with a distant chortle.

on his way to the library, where you were previously seated, james made a stop to the kitchen to grab a few of your favourite snacks and some water. he dropped them back at his dormitory, but not without a mini lecture on ‘kissing moony.’ from sirius.

what a drama queen.

the castle was slowly darkening, the only light pivoting from the floating candles in the air. he saw your frozen-like figure in the same spot you were except looking over your history of magic textbook, learning about the ‘emeric the evil.’

“y/n.” he stated firmly, you almost jumped from your seat in surprise, due to your recent sleep deprivation. “merlin james, give a girl a little warning first.” you chastised before returning to your next book that was slammed together right in-front of your eyes.

“james! i was—“ you were cut off quickly by him gathering all of your books and placing them in his left arm. “what are you doing?” you questioned, looking at him with furrowed brows, to exhausted to argue with him.

“you’re not taking care of yourself, you’re not eating, you’re not sleeping, your basically a study.... that muggle thing- robot! you’re a study robot! so i’m taking care of you.” he got sidetracked as he spoke in a gentle yet firm tone.

“but i have too-“ you were cut off again by his pointer finger shushing your lips together. “no, either you sit here in silence because i’m taking your books either way or you come with me to my dorm.” james spoke, resisting to your complaints.

“fine, but you have too—“ you started off, annoyed that your study time was ruined by james incessant comments about you ‘overworking yourself.’ he though, was not having any of that. “nope.” he grabbed your hand, dragging you off to the gryffindor tower.

you gave a small tired wave to sirius, peter and remus on the way to the dormitories as they were all either on the floor or splayed across the scarlet-coloured couches. sirius following with a teasing wolf whistle and wink seeing the both of you walking up the stairs.

“don’t do anything i wouldn’t do!” he chuckled, looping his arm over remus’ shoulders.

“ha, bloody, ha, padfoot. so, so funny i’m on the floor laughing.” he teased, sarcasm lacing his words in a monotone voice almost mocking snape.

you playfully rolled your eyes before being dragged up the stairs to the boys dormitory. the only noises heard were the clacks of your shoes and the soft breathing emitting from both you and your boyfriend.

your eyes were met with candies sprawled all over his poorly made bed, one of his quidditch sweatshirts paired with your favourite joggers; the ones he probably stole from your dorm room one night; because he was keen on you just staying there with him and ‘subtly’ moving all your things into his dormitory with the rest of the boys.

you looked at him with an arched brow, a silent question of ‘why are you doing this?’ ignoring your questioning look he sprawled himself on his twin-bed, his hands clasping in his lap waiting for you to change.

you put on the clothes he layed out, feeling james’ left hand tug you onto his chest when you were done. oh his soft, pillowy chest, you almost felt tempted to fall asleep right then and there.

“darling girl, tell me what’s going on?” he softly questioned while stroking your hair with one hand, his other arm stroking your back.

“i just—“ you stuttered, feeling a wave of tears glossing over your eyes. “i feel like everything is going so, so, wrong. m’so afraid of failing, i want to be better! i don’t want to be like m’terrible family, but it all feels like so much!” you mewled into his shirt, his grasp growing a bit tighter in an effort to psychically comfort you.

“baby, you’re nothing like your family, you have to know that?” he directed your vision to his gaze, the soft marks of mascara down your dampened face only made his gaze softer.

“you work so hard on trying to be not like your family, you don’t even know how amazing you truly are. you’re so generous, you’re always willing to help someone even if you don’t like them, i know i wouldn’t have that patience!” he softly chuckled, seeing a faded grin on your lips.

you sniffed as he continued his praise, “you’re such a hard worker, and i’m truly in awe of you. you’re the one person who truly puts her best foot forward and it’s so incredibly amazing, but you’re working so hard your exhausting yourself. y/n, it’s breaking me to see you like that.” you saw small wet streaks around his eyes, not truly realizing your self destructive habits had been harming people around you; had been harming him.

“jamie, i’m— im so sorry!” feeling the wash of emotions suddenly bundled up wash all over you, your nervous system feeling overwhelmed with the emotions of sadness, guilt and anger bubble up all at once. you whimpered into his shirt, spewing out mumbled apologies that were barely coherent due to all the sobs.

“shh- shh, don’t apologize.” he articulated, shifting his hips up and grabbing a folded parchment from his back pocket.

“w—whats that?” you questioned, trying to calm down the mewls and whimpers that wanted to escape your throat.

“this, darling, is a schedule.” he pointed out, a week schedule with times on it that labeled your subjects as well as times of the day. he also dedicated certain parts of every single day with “james!!” in bright red ink.

“so those,” he pointed out, directly at all the times he wrote his name leading up to the newt dates, “are times you and me spend together, no studying, just loving. so i can remind my beautiful, smart, and amazing talented loving girlfriend how astonishing she is.” he said with a grin, proud of himself.

“you really know how to charm a girl, potter.” you may have teased, but without him you don��t know what you would’ve done. james was truly your saviour, your light, stars to your moon; if you will.

he was yours, and you were definitely his. 

taglist: @fathermarty @kittykylax @terr0rizer @aspiringsloth20 @dear-luna @famdomhideout @hufflepogue

#james potter one shot #james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #james potter x oc #james potter #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter smut #james potter smut #james potter series

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Then & Now (Ethan x MC)

Summary: A particularly difficult case forces Ethan to confront a blast from his past

A/N: This popped into my head and I had too much fun writing it. I will loosely incorporate some of the themes from book 3 and make them better, but this is mostly an AU.

A/N 2: Yes I’m writing another multipart fic while actively ignoring my others. The muses spoke and I had no choice in the matter. Enjoy!

~v~

“Would you like some more coffee, Dr. Ramsey?”

Whatever line he was reading in his textbook blurs as does his vision. Ethan looks up at the face of the newest member of the team, a young resident, Isabelle. He takes the cup, not missing the way her eyes light up as he does so. What is it with residents and their incessant need to kiss-ass and be people pleasers?

“Thank you, Dr. Proctor.”

“Of course! I figured we’d need all the caffeine we could get our hands on with this case.”

Ethan doesn’t respond with words, only offering the young woman a hum in acknowledgement. Instead his eyes land on his coworker, Harper Emery. “Harper, has your team been able to come up with anything new?”

“Nothing,” Harper replies with a resigned sigh.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’ve run as many tests, MRIs and CT scans as I could, and none of them came back with anything conclusive. We’re officially back to square one.”

Ethan hasn’t been this stumped in years. A week ago, a patient came to Edenbrook after waking up without being able to feel anything from the waist down. A young, relatively healthy 25 year old with no extraordinary medical history, no recent reports of any TBI, nothing. He assumed with Harper–one of the nation’s greatest neurosurgeons–on the case, that this would be a simple fix.

As painful as it is to admit, he’s wrong.

They’ve gotten nowhere with the case, they’ve made no progress, and to make matters worse, he has Leland Bloom and the board breathing down his neck because it’s been years since the team has spent more than a week on a case, so a week with no news reflects poorly on them—on him, as the team’s leader specifically.

The last member of the team, Tobias, clears his throat. “Did he ever mention getting into a fight? Maybe he took a hit to the head, and just doesn’t want to admit it?”

“Maybe, but like I said, none of the CT scans or MRIs showed me anything out of the norm,” Harper says. “I can always ask him again.”

“That’d be ideal–”

Ethan’s sentence is cut off as the door to their office is thrown open, and in walks Leland. “Hello, team!”

The most senior members of the team stay silent, but Isabelle gives a slight wave. “Hello, Mr. Bloom.”

“Dr. Proctor,” Leland greets in turn. “Nice to know at least one of you has manners.”

Ethan checks the time on his watch. “What are you doing here, Bloom?”

“Last time I checked, I owned this entire building and I didn’t need to ask your permission to be here.”

“We’re nearing midnight,” Ethan adds. “What are you still doing here, and not at home? I’m sure Mrs. Bloom would enjoy seeing you.”

Leland ignores the mention of his wife Caroline, pretending like she wasn’t mentioned at all. “I just stopped by your patient’s room to see how he was doing. And then I decided to drop by to check in with you guys. Are there any updates on the Miller case?”

“I’m not discussing patient information with you,” Ethan says.

“Well, I am your boss.”

“And until you go to medical school, graduate, become a doctor at this hospital, and join in on this case, I don’t have to tell you anything. You may own this hospital, but I do not have to discuss my patients with you.”

“Okay, so you guys have no new information,” Leland concludes.

Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance, this conversation giving him a headache even though it just started. “We were actually in the middle of a brainstorming session before we were interrupted, so if we could have some privacy again, that would be much appreciated.”

Ethan’s tone causes Leland to drop the veneer of kindness, the smile dropping from his face only for a second before he catches it. He looks away and sniffs haughtily. “Fine. I’ll check in with the patient tomorrow for a status update, since it’s clear I won’t be getting it from my employees. Thankfully, his father and I go way back.”

“I can’t stop the patient from divulging his own information.”

Leland glances around the room one more time, his gaze lingering on Ethan a bit longer than it does on the other occupants. “Goodnight, doctors.”

Once Leland leaves, Harper turns towards Ethan. “You act like it would literally kill you to be nice to him.”

“Be nice for what? Bloom thinks we owe him undying loyalty and infinite ass kissing because he bought the hospital. He’s pulled a lot of nonsense since moving into this position, but he’s not worth breaking any laws over. My patients deserve their privacy.”

“And I agree, but the extra hostility isn’t needed. The last thing we need is World War 3 with you and Bloom tearing down the hospital. Just be nice.”

“Okay, are we getting back to work or calling it a night?”

The rest of the team glances around each other. Pulling an all-nighter with Ethan while he’s in a foul mood sounds like a nightmare.

“We’re calling it a night.”

~v~

Ethan ends up falling asleep in the office, finally dozing off around 5 o'clock in the morning, surrounded by a mountain of books and the harsh light of his computer screen. The sleep is short lived though as the sound of his pager wakes him up.

He jumps up with a start, and checks the time on his watch before checking his pager. He only managed to get two hours of sleep, but he can’t dwell on that. The page is a 911 alert to his patient’s room.

“Shit!”

He takes off to the 4th floor where his patient is housed, thankful that the early morning hour means the hospital is not yet flooded with people.

Isabelle, Harper, and a nurse are already in the room when Ethan finally makes it. “What’s going on?”

“He had a seizure,” Harper explains.

“How long did it last?”

“Around 50 seconds. We administered lorazepam into his IV.”

“Could this be a new symptom?” Valencia asks. “Or something else entirely?”

Harper shrugs. “I don’t know, but I’m going to take him down to radiology for another CT scan. Hopefully this next one can actually yield some results.”

Ethan nods. “That sounds like a plan. In the meantime, Dr. Proctor, add seizures onto the list of symptoms to broaden our search criteria. Maybe that’ll help.”

“Gotcha.”

“We’ll reconvene when Tobias comes in and once we get the new CT scans back.”

There’s a knock at the door and Ethan bristles when Leland’s loud voice calls out to him. “Dr. Ramsey, can I speak to you out in the hallway?”

“With all due respect, I’d rather not.”

“It wasn’t a request, doctor. Hallway, now.”

Ethan shoots Harper a look, and she gives him a quick sympathy smile before he and Leland step out into the hallway.

They move a few feet away from the patient’s door, out of earshot before Leland lays into Ethan. “How in the hell is the patient actually managing to get worse under your care?”

The question actually takes Ethan aback. “You can’t possibly be saying his condition is my fault?”

“I’m saying he’s been here for a week now, and he’s no better off than where he was. You don’t have any information to give him or his family. Do you know how many phone calls my assistant has had to field because they want to get him transferred to a different facility?”

“We are giving him the best care possible, Leland. Just because you and his father belong to the same country club or whatever, does not mean there’ll be some instant diagnosis or treatment that he can buy...or steal. We need to do our due diligence.”

Leland is smart enough to know when a dig is being lobbed in his direction. His eyes narrow. “What are you trying to say, Ethan?”

“Exactly what I just did. Besides, why do you have such a vested interest in my team and what we do? I’m sure you have other businesses and people to micromanage these days.”

“You guys don’t make me any money yet remain my biggest cost. The least you can do is be efficient and answer my questions when I ask.”

“And like I told you last night, I know you own this place. You never let me forget it. But you buying this hospital does not mean I am here at your beck and call, now does it mean I have to be governed under anything that isn’t set forth by the American Medical Association. Now, me team is the best this hospital and this city have to offer, so back up and let us do our jobs.”

“You guys are the best?” Leland chuckles humorlessly. “Act like it. Or I’ll find someone else who can.”

The threat causes Ethan to pause. “What does that mean?”

“You heard me loud and clear, Dr. Ramsey. Loud and clear.”

~v~

“You idiot! Why on earth would you get into a fight with Bloom in the middle of a hallway?”

Ethan doesn’t try to school his bored expression as Tobias paces the entire length of the office, huffing and puffing as he does so.

“I didn’t get into a fight with him,” Ethan amends. “It was an exchange of words.”

“A loud exchange of words,” Harper adds. “In front of our patient’s room, might I add.”

“I had plans for this day to be productive, but the minute that man opens his mouth, I just–”

“We get it, you don’t like him,” Tobias interjects.

“Disliking Leland is an understatement.”

Isabelle stays silent, unable to find a good place to cut in, despite having questions. Ethan’s dislike of Leland Bloom is the hospital’s worst kept secret, but the contention has always been passive aggressive at best. And as a second year resident, she doesn’t have any background knowledge on why the relationship is the way that it is.

“I don’t like him either, but you don’t see me needling him in front of the nurse’s station!”

“Sure Leland is...obnoxious at times, but I don’t understand any of it,” Isabelle says, finally speaking up. Ethan looks at her as if he’s just now remembering that she’s been in the room the entire time. “What happened that caused this much animosity?”

Leland’s kidney disease wasn’t a major secret. Most medical personnel that worked at Edenbrook and the larger Boston area remember the huge media blitz, and all of the pomp and circumstance surrounding his hospitalization early last year. And the official story is Leland got a kidney from a family member who wished to keep their identity a secret from the public, and everyone ate it up.

Only a handful of people know the truth. That a few well placed phone calls and dollars exchanged got Leland to the top of the donor list within a day, stealing a second chance from the true person at the top of the list: a 14 year old girl.

“So long as there is breath in my body, Leland Bloom and his ilk will never get an ounce of respect from me, and I’ll just leave it at that,” Ethan says cooly. “And that’s all you need to know, Dr. Proctor.”

“Okay.”

“I’m just saying man, Bloom is petty,” Tobias adds. “Men like him, who think the rest of us should bow at their feet, don’t take kindly to getting told off, especially in public. Underneath the billions is a tiny ass, fragile ego. Can you just keep a low profile and be quiet for the next day or two, so Bloom doesn’t dismantle this team?”

“I’ll be as cordial as Bloom is,” is what Ethan settles upon. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

The only thing that can rival Ethan’s intelligence is his stubbornness. Tobias knows it’s the best he’s going to get out of Ethan, so he relents. “Okay.”

“Good. Now can we get back to work and stop talking about Bloom?”

His team nods and Ethan sighs in relief.. They still have a chance to turn things around and actually have a good day.

They fall into a productive routine, tossing around different theories, sharing research and narrowing down ideas. Too bad that only lasts for about half an hour before there’s a knock at the office door. A few seconds later, Naveen pokes his head in.

Ethan smiles because part of him was expecting Leland to show up again. “Naveen, this is a nice surprise! Don’t tell me you’re ready to get back in the saddle.”

Naveen laughs good-naturedly at his mentee. “Not quite.”

“Well what brings you down here?”

“I wanted to talk to you for a second, Ethan,” Naveen says.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. It’s not about me, it’s work related. Team related news, that I wanted to tell you personally,” Naveen explains, fully entering the office. “Is there any way I could steal you for a few minutes?”

“If it involves the team, I think we can have the conversation here. Is this about my...spirited discussion with Leland?”

“No, it’s about the case you’re working on.”

“Now I know we don’t usually work on cases for this long, and we’re working on it.”

“I know. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Leland has some concerns about how long it’s taking you guys to treat this patient, and he told me that he wants to outsource some extra help to speed things along.”

“No thank you.”

“He’s already made phone calls. I’m just here to give you a heads up about who he picked.”

“A heads up?” Ethan scoffs and rolls his eyes. Who on earth could Leland think of reaching out to that Ethan would need a warning about? “Who is he asking for? Mendoza from MK? Catherine Morgan from Stanford? The Boogeyman?”

“I don’t think I’ve reached Boogeyman levels of infamy. Well, at least not yet.”

The voice makes the hair on the back of Ethan’s neck stand up. It’s a voice he hasn’t heard in close to three years, one that he thought he’d never hear again.

His eyes snap up, locking with the large brown ones staring back at him, and all of the breath leaves his lungs at once. The last time he looked into these eyes, they weren’t full of humor like they are now, but pure fire. His chest constricts, inhaling suddenly the most difficult task in the world.

The entire room goes silent, everyone watching as Ethan and the woman stay locked in their staring contest. Isabelle’s eyes dart back and forth, hoping someone can clue her into what’s going on, but Naveen, Harper and Tobias offer zero assistance.

Isabelle takes the quiet time to appraise the stranger. She’s petite, almost a foot shorter than Ethan even with her sky high Jimmy Choos on. The second thing that catches her attention is the mess of dark curly hair spilling over her shoulders, and the amused smirk on her face, like a cat that got the canary.

The woman breaks eye contact with Ethan to look past his shoulder. “Harper, Tobias, hello. Long time no see.”

When he regains the ability to speak, Ethan grits out, “Naomi, what on earth are you doing here?”

“I got an interesting call from Leland Bloom this morning, saying that the diagnostics team was in dire need of some assistance on a particularly difficult case. Within the hour, his private helicopter was picking me up.”

Ethan takes a sterling’s breath and silently counts to 3 before talking again. “I’m not working with you.”

“You don’t have a choice. Not unless you quit.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Naomi rolls her eyes. “Drama was never a good look on you, darling, I was always better suited for it.” She turns her attention to the young resident gawking at her, turning on her megawatt smile. “You’re new. I don’t know you.”

“Um, n-no you don't. I’m Dr. Isabelle Proctor.”

“Isabelle,” Naomi repeats slowly, letting it roll off of her tongue. “What a pretty name.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m Dr. Naomi Ramsey.”

The last name catches her attention. Her eyes flicker over to Ethan’s face, catching the way his jaw ticks as female Dr. Ramsey talks.

“I can see the wheels turning in your head as I talk, so I’ll clear things up for you right quick,” Naomi continues. “No, the last name thing isn’t a coincidence. I’m Ethan’s ex-wife." She sticks out a hand for Isabelle to shake. "Nice to meet you.”

~v~

Tags: @openheartfanfics @mvalentine @choicesaddict5 @professorkingslay @maurine07 @aka-calliope @bluebellot @whimsicallywayward15 @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @jamespotterthefirst @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @cecilecontrera @thatysn @bellcat2010 @blainehellyes @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey @uneravine @choicest

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc

[denkamis]

Hi there!!! I wanted to let you know I love reading your work!! I would also like to request peanut butter with Kirishima, Bakugou, and Amajiki please!

to anon: ahh thank you so much anon!! that seriously means so much to me. i see you’re craving a bit of angst tonight, i hope that i can deliver, since i do like writing a fair amount of angst :,)))

warnings: love triangles, implied cheating, a lot of doubts, insecurities, and swearing. reader is gn! tread carefully with this one please

prompt: eijirou kirishima, katsuki bakugou, tamaki amajiki headcanons + “why are you lying to me?”

eijirou kirishima

kirishima didn’t want to believe it at first

he didn’t want to believe that you actually had feelings for bakugou, his best friend of all people

especially when bakugou knew how he was feeling about you

but how could he ever compare to bakugou? top of your class with such a manly quirk to back up his intense commitment to being a hero. his drive was impeccable, it was no wonder you liked him so much

he tried to keep his feelings on the downlow, wanting to support you and let you be happy with bakugou. it were your feelings, you were allowed to love who you wanted to love

so why was he feeling so distraught?

so utterly trapped by his emotions?

what the fuck was wrong with him?

it wasn’t as if anything between the two of you had changed, either. you were still his best friend, his study buddy, his person to go to whenever he got in his head

except now he couldn’t. he couldn’t look at you the same, especially when you talked about bakugou the way that you did

“hey, i think i might ask him out. what do you think, kiri?”

his entire world collapsed

you two had been studying for history together. it appeared that his brain had stopped functioning, your words processing in his mind. “what?” he asked you in a small voice, clearing his throat to better hide the way his voice had cracked. when his eyes met yours, you were staring at him curiously

“is everything okay?”

“me? oh yeah, no no! i’m okay. i think um, i think you totally should.”

“... really?”

kirishima was kicking himself, biting his tongue to keep his feelings from spilling all over his textbook. it wasn’t the manliest move to lie about his feelings, but he couldn’t simply hold you back from being with someone you liked that much

“yeah. i don’t see why not i mean, you talk about him all the time! so, i figured, if he makes you happy, go for it.”

“are you okay?”

“i- of course i am, i’m okay with you dating bakugou. it’s all okay with me!”

“why are you lying to me?”

“pardon?”

kirishima’s hand holding his pencil tensed, fidgeting ever so slightly as you continued to look at him intensely. nothing got past you

“kiri, seriously. is there something wrong?”

kirishima weighed out his options. he took in your features, your bright eyes looking serious and your mouth pulled into a pout as you watched him react. he held his breath, breaking your staring contest to glance back at his notebook below him

“do you really like him like that?”

“what do you mean?”

“i want you to be happy.”

“kirishima-”

“go date him.”

“huh?”

kirishima looked at you, a small smile on his face that held an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “i think he’ll make you happy. bakubro’s not a bad guy, he’s super manly. i know he seems a bit, y’know, but i think he could really make you happy.” he was nothing compared to him. he could never make you as happy as bakugou.

not wanting to fight, you nodded your head slowly. “if you don’t want to talk about it, you can just tell me that too,��� you replied gently. that wasn’t bothering him, you knew that. and yet you decided to keep your head down

to this day, looking at the invitation to yours and bakugou’s wedding still brings a sick feeling of regret to his stomach

he should have told you

he just realized too late

katsuki bakugou

you and katsuki had your arguments back and forth about his work life not constantly, but enough for you to take notice of it

sure, you and katsuki had your qualms but you always made up in the end. you both came back to each other, no matter how angry you both got or no matter how much time had passed

you always came back to each other

tonight though, was awful. it was the worst argument you two had ever had

“what is it now, dumbass?” he growled aggressively, his eyes flicking to you with a certain annoyance that looked all too familiar to you

“where were you tonight? we had a date.”

“was at work.”

he didn’t even look up from his phone

you weren’t satisfied with his answer, knowing him and his schedule well enough to be aware that he had not been at the agency

“no, you weren’t at work.”

he scoffed with a shake of his head. “sure, believe what you want to believe.”

“can you listen to me while i’m talking to you? i’m standing literally right here.”

he let out a small “hm” at your remark, your fists clenched as you gritted your teeth. he was really pushing your buttons now

finally, right then and there, you had had enough of his bullshit

“why are you lying to me?”

bakugou’s head whipped up, face contorted in an ugly sort of snarl like an animal finally biting after being provoked for long enough

“the fuck do you mean i’m lying? why the fuck would i lie to you?”

“i know you weren’t at work! you’re done at five and you came home at eight. where were you?”

“i was going home and stopped a shitty villain, is that what you wanted to hear?” the way he spat words at you with such a venomous tongue made your blood boil. you decided to push further

“what villain?”

“fucking christ, really? do you seriously not trust me?”

you said nothing, fear coursing through your body as doubts plagued your mind. his gaze watched you steadily, tears wetting your cheeks as you crossed your arms. you decided to finally let him know

“i know, katsuki. i saw the fucking texts.”

bakugou seemed to be frozen in place, a slow realization washing over the anger on his face. he looked like a deer in headlights

you stood tall, your chin pointed up as you held faux confidence before him

had you not been enough for him? had you pushed him too far? maybe this had been your fault. no. this wasn’t the time to overthink. you had to protect yourself. you vowed to yourself no one would ever treat you like that again. mustering up all the courage you had, picking your shattered heart off the floor of your now one person inhabited apartment, you offered two words to him

“get out.”

tamaki amajiki

it wasn’t exactly a secret that tamaki was a person who tended to overthink things a lot

he would get jitters and his nerves would act up, causing him to be a little more insecure than the average person

he needed a lot of reassurances, to which you didn’t mind giving him. you loved tamaki, you would always be there to support him. you were his partner, he was your boyfriend. of course you would be there for him to lean back on

there were some times where his mind would spiral, especially when it was later at night and he couldn’t sleep

he stared up at the ceiling, his eyes going in and out of focus as he listened to the steady rhythm of your breathing. twiddling his thumbs, he sighed. you deserved better than the stuttering mess that he was. someone who wasn’t afraid to speak up during nights out with your friends, someone who was more positive and less doubtful

he was scared you would realize all of these things and just walk out of his life

you were so precious to him

he couldn’t have that happen

“tama?”

your voice pierced the silence of the night, his thoughts dissipating as the rustling of the sheets indicated you were sitting up in your shared bed

oh no, oh god had you realized?

“why are you up, darling?” you asked of him gently as the light of the lamp was flicked on

his cheeks looked red and streaked with tears

“hey, talk to me. what’s going on?”

not wanting to be a bother, he shook his head, pulling the covers up to hide his face from you

“n- nothing bunny. let’s just get some rest.”

“why are you lying to me?”

your voice wasn’t accusatory, you had merely asked the question. tamaki, however, visibly flinched at your words

“no, let’s not… it’s really nothing,” he mumbled beneath his blanket shield, turning over to face away from you. he couldn’t tell you about what he was feeling, not now. not when he hadn’t made up at least 80 different ways the conversation would play out. he needed to be prepared for all of them

“tamaki,” you reached out for his touch, your hand meeting his quivering form before he shrugged your hand off his shoulder

“go to bed, it’s nothing,” he said more firmly this time

this wasn’t what he wanted

why was he pushing you away?

tamaki’s hands squeezed the edges of the covers, eyes closing shut in a sorry attempt to block out what he was feeling. doubt and anxieties swirled uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach

“i.. alright. we’ll talk about this in the morning?”

tamaki said nothing in response, your heart wrenching in your chest upon receiving silence

the two of you barely slept anymore than a wink that night, the shadow of your shared insecurities looming over you both

all works © denkamis 2021.

tags:

@meilbox @honeykami @httpfirx @strawberrysalwa @hey-i-really-miss-you @smexy-goose @satis-kei

want to be on the taglist? see this post!

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #amajiki x reader #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #kirishima angst #bakugou angst #amajiki angst #denkamis.hcs #denkamis.requests

[runwithwolvcs]

You Know I’m No Good - o n e

Summary: Tallulah Forester isn’t a bad person, she’s just made one too many bad decisions. Which is why she has now found herself four hours away from her home in Seattle, to her estranged fathers little home in La Push, with her stepmom and two half sisters, whom she has only been with a couple of times in the past 15 years. Her mother and father had agreed, shockingly, that the small town lifestyle would be beneficial to their wild child, but bad habits die hard, especially when it comes to being in control.

Timeline: Takes place a few years after the events of Breaking Dawn

Pairing: Paul Lahote x OC (Tallulah is 18)

Warnings (future chapters): Drugs/Alcohol, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Jealousy, Mental Health, (Mentions of SA, but no details)

There are losses that rearrange the world. Deaths that change the way you see everything, grief that tears everything down. Pain that transports you to an entirely different universe, even while everyone else thinks nothing has really changed.

Tallulah stared out the window in the back seat with her knees tucked up to her chest, arms wrapped around them tightly as her father drawled on, switching from topic to topic, your sisters and Kira are so excited your coming to we’ve already enrolled you at the school to do you remember this person or that person? Anything to fill the silence from creating a  suffocating atmosphere in the car. It all sounded like white noise to her, she barely remembered La Push. 

She moved to Seattle with her mother when she was six and the two of them never looked back, whenever she would see her father or half-sisters, they would meet halfway in Port Angeles and then head their separate ways. It was easier that way for everyone involved. 

Josette and Lenna, her half-sisters, were ten the last time she spent any actual memory inducing time with them. Although they are only two years younger than her, they were so different. So in tune with the tribe, whereas she barely knew anything about the histories. She doubted anything would have changed in that respect.

Tallulah's headaches from her hangover, or maybe lack of sleep, she thought, and as she laid her head against the window she listened to the sound of passing cars and her dad's voice as she slipped into a dreamless sleep.

--------

Tallulah awoke to the sound of the car door shutting and a nearby dog barking, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, grateful her headache was gone, but now in its place was a lump in her throat, as she looked around her surroundings outside of the car. The little blue house she vaguely remembers. The tire swings in the old oak tree. A woman's laugh caught her attention, as she looked to see her dad and stepmom, chatting away, happier than ever. Tallulah felt so out of place. Like she was an intruder coming in to ruin her fathers happy, little family with her black cloud of disappointment. 

Tallulah groaned to herself as she unbuckled herself, might as well get this over with, she thought to herself while opening the car door and slowly stepping out, stretching as she did. She could feel the two adults eyes on her as she shut the door gently, looking towards them, Kiras big smile, that if she didn’t know better would look insincere, but she did know. Her stepmom was a tryhard, doing anything and everything to be the perfect wife, the perfect mother and stepmother, no matter how hard Tallulah pushed against her kind persona. She was the reason her family was in pieces. Kira and her father were no doubt in love, even when her parents were still together, they never looked at each other the way she sees her father looks at Kira and vice versa, like they are each other's reasons for being. She moves, he moves. Tallulah nearly physically cringes. It's not something she ever wants for herself, that fairy tale love.

She walks toward them slowly, Kira meeting her halfway, wrapping her arms in a bear crushing hug that she doesn’t reciprocate, looking past her at her father who has that ‘be nice’ look on his face, and clearly, she was in no place to fight that. She couldn’t help but think, if this doesn't work out the way her parents think it will, where is the next place she would be shipped off to? 

Kiras' soft, sweet voice shakes her from her thoughts, “it's so nice to see you again. Your hair has gotten so long.” Tallulah raises an eyebrow before stating, “I've cut it a few times since I saw you last.” Kira laughs off the dig, before walking towards her father and saying, “the twins are out, we’d figured you'd be better off getting settled without a full house.” Tallulah nodded in response as her father spoke up for the first time since arriving, “besides, we have some things to discuss. Expectations and what not,” 

Tallulah eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Rules? I’m eighteen. I don’t need to have any rules.” Her arms crossed over chest, as if she were a child. 

“If you think that you will be continuing your..extracurricular activities that you have picked up in Seattle, you are wrongly mistaken” he says in what she assumes is his fatherly tone that works on the twins, but not her, he gave up that right fifteen years ago. “Your mother has filled us in on everything, Tally” She rolls her eyes at this, as if she knows everything, she thought to herself.

Kira stood up on the porch, just inside the doorway, “Joseph, let her settle in, we can have this conversation tomorrow, after the bonfire.” she said in ‘dont fight me in this tone’, to which Tallulah appreciated, yet was confused, “Bonfire?” she asked, as she made her way up the steps of the house leaving her dad to bring in her few bags, “The tribe bonfire party happens once a month, the girls love it, plus you can meet some of your classmates before you start school.” Kira spoke as if this was something she should look forward to, but in all honesty, large gatherings were not Tallys scene, despite what her mother thinks. But, she would attend, save face and hope with good behaviour she would be back in Seattle with her friends in no time. This thought reminded her to shoot them a text quickly explaining her situation, hoping they would see it as an SOS, before shoving her phone back in her pocket and following Kira around the house like a little kid, listening to where things were kept, which rooms were which and then finally a stop at the room in which she would call hers. The walls were a blank, cream color, with light blue bedding and a wooden desk shoved in the corner, along with what looks like textbooks sitting on top.She nods politely as Kira mentions they will be leaving within the hour but try to settle in and suggests she may want to change out of her cotton shorts, as it “gets quite cold compared to Seattle” as she put it.

-----

7:14 read the time on Tallulah's phone as they walked up to the beach, the sun had just begun to set and the temperature had, in fact, dropped quite a bit, thankful for Kiras advice, Tallulah had changed into a pair of loose, blue jeans and had tucked her hands into the pockets of her oversized, black hoodie, fingers curled under the long sleeves to keep them warm.

She walked slightly behind Kira and her father, standing off to the side as they were greeted by people, before they had reached whom she suspected to be the twins. They looked so different from what she remember, her father lowly spoke to her, as Kira caught their attention, pointing out the smaller of the two as Josette and the taller, as Lenna. Josie dawned a baggie pair of dark pair of overalls, with a striped sweater underneath, her hair in two space buns, which was quite different from her sister, in her plaid mini skirt and form-fitting long sleeve shirt, her pin straight, dark hair fanned out behind her back. Tallulah could already tell they wouldn’t get along.

 She watched as Lenna stalked away from her mother to a group of people who looked around their age, before snapping her eyes back at the sound of her name being called, to see Kira and Josette waving her over, before she could even move her feet willingly, her dad was nudging her in their direction, as if she would turn and walk the other way. 

Josette moved over so she could sit directly beside, a friendly smile that resembled Kiras on her face, “ Hi Tally” she spoke her childhood nickname softly, “it’s been awhile, you look so much older, not in a bad way, like mature, adultish, but obviously your only two years older than me so not technically an adult..” she rambled off, “Hey Josette” and before Tallulah could say anything else, she was interrupted by the younger girl, “Its Josie or Jo, whichever fine, just not Josette” she spoke quickly, a pale blush crossing her olive toned skin, to which Tallulah just nodded and asked, “How long do these things last?”

“That depends,” Josie spoke, “Typically the adults leave once the stories and tribal matter finishes, so maybe an hour or two. But we usually stay later, or at least Lenna does.” she said, looking in the direction of her twin, who was now surrounded by a group of other rambunctious teenagers. “Sam Uley's crew is here tonight, so who knows if that will even happen, especially after last time.” Tallulah didn’t question the younger girl, mainly because she just didn’t care to. She looked away from Lenna and her friends, her eyes gazing on all the unfamiliar faces sitting on logs or picnic tables surrounding the growing fire. 

Her eyes stopped on what seemed to be a couple, the girl was beautiful, her long black hair was tied up into a neat ponytail, she was talking to a man in a wheelchair beside her, who looked like he could be her dad, her eyes shifted to the man sitting next her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, he was in shorts and a shirt and looked perfectly comfortable in the frigid air, he was joking around with the boys next to him, as if the beautiful girl next to him was really there, despite his arm around her, “Thats Paul Lahote.” Josie said from next to her, causing her to flush from her obvious staring, he looked in their direction, as if he had heard Josie say his name, they locked eyes for a split second before Tallulah looked away embarrassed she had been caught. “Don’t worry, Lenna stares at him too,” Josie laughed jokingly, “I wasn’t staring” Tallulah spoke defensively, Josie raised her hands in surrender before leaning in close, “looks like he's the one staring now” Josie grinned, watching as Tallulah looked back at the older boy, noticing that he was staring at her, almost like a deer in headlights. He looked so familiar, though she doubts that they have ever met before. He smiles at her slightly, his arm retracting from the girl beside him despite her protest to his movement, and now the beautiful women is also looking at her, causing Tallulah to look down at her sleeve covered hands that lay in her lap, only looking up again when her father sits in the spot next to her, asking if she's alright, to which she absentmindedly nods her head. Is she alright after her entire life has been altered in the last 12 hours? What kind of question is that?

Her eyes are drawn back to the spot Paul Lahote was sitting in, or had been sitting in, the seat was now vacant, the man nowhere in her line of sight, and she can't help but feel a little disappointed.

#paul lahote imagine #paul lahote fanfic #paul lahote x oc #paul lahote #twilight wolves #twilight wolf pack #embry call #leah clearwater #you know im no good #chapter 1

[friendofhayley]

Monthly shout-out to every fanfic creator for all fandoms! Thank you for posting your talent for free and making our fandoms a more creative place. <3 This fic rec includes 12 fics from One Direction, Harry Potter, and Teen Wolf fandoms.

Larry (One Direction)

1. Praise the Mutilated World by @eeveelou, @creamcoffeelou | dystopian AU - A/B/O - on par with Hunger Games for dystopian world/plot - maybe its the feminism but I saw some parallels between governing of vagina-welders and omegas - 106k

It was August when everything changed.

By October, the leaves changed, and so did Louis’ heart.

2. i'll be someone who won't be forgotten by @socialiststyles | oof oof oof this hit close to home (for Sagittariuses) - love confessions - friends to strangers to lovers - angst with a happy ending - 27k

"I’m just—" (Harry hiccups) "there’s a lot here."

And – yeah. There are oceans between them and mountain ranges surrounding them and Louis can feel tectonic plates shifting beneath his unsteady feet, pulling them further and further apart by the heartbeat. There are countries of distance, but there are pages and maps and textbooks of shared histories, moments documented and carefully filed away and Louis can’t remember thinking complete thoughts before he thought of Harry.

3. Send Me Your Pillow (The One That You Dream On) by @lesbianiconharrystyles | this was so soft and lovely - gAyBO - omega/omega - fluff and anxiety - 1k

Harry is embarrassed to realize he's nesting but can't stop stealing Louis' things for his nest.

4. falling, catching by tsuneni | light academia - first time - strangers to lovers - creatives in love - 23k

Harry’s jotting down some more notes when he feels a thud on his right shoulder. He doesn’t flinch, thank God, because when he turns his head to the right his suspicions are confirmed. The boy has fallen asleep on Harry’s shoulder.

When Harry lets out the breath he had been holding, the sleeping boy pushes his nose further into the burgundy fabric of Harry’s sweater, and wraps his arm around Harry’s waist.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

Wolfstar (Harry Potter)

5. I Tried Writing Your Name In The Rain, But It Never Came, So I Used The Sun Instead by @lenscribbles | I loved that Remus was a POC and his Syrian mother is amazing - friends to lovers - mutual pining - and nothing bad happens to them ever in the future :) - 12k

Don’t get Remus wrong. He loves his friends, he does! Loves them to the moon and back in fact. They’re his people, his favorite part of everyday, his found family. He’d do anything for them. But the thing is that doesn’t take away from the very simple fact that his friends are fucking ridiculous. Remus knows this, has known it for five years now. But it doesn’t stop him from startling awake on the morning of his sixteenth birthday surprised by the sound of fireworks exploding in their dormitory and a raucous chorus of “Happy birthday Moony!” being shouted into his ear with jaunty gusto.

“You are wicked, wicked wizards,” Remus moans from where he refuses to get up on his bed, covering his face with his hands, a good call on his end considering that the very next moment he feels a cascade of confetti pouring all over him. “The worst of the worst! You deserve to rot in Azkaban!”

“Oh how you flatter us Moonykins,” Sirius croons, pulling him up while James and Peter begin a frankly awful rendition of For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow.

6. Our Destiny in the Stars by orphan_account | non-magical AU - body insecurity issues - trans Sirius - amputee Remus - 11k

Having no luck in the dating field, and insecure about his body, Remus checks out a dating website which offers the users the opportunity to get to know a person before seeing what they look like. It's during this time he meets Sirius, an enthusiastic teacher--and they immediately click. When they agree to meet, Remus sees a photo of Sirius and immediately panics. He's too good looking to ever be interested in someone like Remus. What the tawny-haired man doesn't know, is Sirius has already checked him out online and has fallen head over heels for the adorable editor.

Drarry (Harry Potter)

7. Old Magic (series) by @mystickitten42 | Drarry runs away together pree-HBP - very realistic getting-together - Narcissa is the GOAT - poor Sirius stuck in the middle - 2+ parts

Harry is undeniably numb. Still reeling from the sudden death of his godfather, he’s back at the Dursleys and everything seems hopeless. One day bleeds into the next. But, as they say, nature abhors a vacuum…

Draco is unimpressed. The Dark Lord and his infernal giant snake have taken over Malfoy Manor and he’s confined to his rooms. He feels like a prisoner and it’s just not right. He’s a Malfoy. Itching for confrontation he decides to go visit Harry Potter.

Things don’t go according to plan.

8. The Importance of Being Draco Malfoy (series) by @upon-poppyhills | this is just great, I love that without memories Draco is without prejudice - Harry goes from suspicious to denial to crushing - brief but wonderful Draco/Justin Finch-Fletchley - I can't wait for everyone to find out about Draco's head - 3+ parts

The answer to the age-old question, "What if instead of a scratch on the arm, Buckbeak had stomped on Draco's head instead and caused tragic memory loss?"

It was a truth universally acknowledged that the path to reforming a Slytherin prince never did run smooth.

9. Dear Cousin, Love Regulus by @xx-thedarklord-xx, @llap115 | I confused this with another fic so I never read it until now and it's THE BEST - Drarry talk like dark academia boys sometimes - I'm so glad Draco had Regulus T.T - when he meets the Regulus portrait!! *screams* - 86k

As the sole Malfoy heir, Draco understood that his path was set long before his birth; who to be, how to act and what his choices should be. What he had not counted on was the power of outside influences. Letters from his deceased cousin caused him to realize that he did have choices, starting with the choice to be someone else, to be who he wanted to be. The road to self-discovery was difficult and navigating that path in the shadow of Harry Potter was its own challenge but maybe, just maybe, his friends would help him along the way. And he would owe it all to Regulus Black.

10. bury the dead where they're found by @rocketdocket | THIS FIC is the ultimate found family fic - sometimes people prefer the closet and that's awesome! - PTSD and suicidal thoughts - queer people are just better than the straights, sorry not sorry - 52k

The war is over. Or at least, that's how it feels for everyone else. But not for Harry. He can't escape the memories and the nightmares of the war, or his guilt about those who died for him. While all he wants is to be alone, finding a family in the most unlikely of places may be just what he needs.

Sterek (Teen Wolf)

11. A Californian Werewolf in New York by @dancinbutterfly, knight_changes | I love that Oz from Buffy is just there - friends to lovers - bottom Derek - misunderstandings - 16k

When Derek finally realizes that there's nothing left for him in Beacon Hills, he goes back to New York, gets a life, falls in love and finds his home.

12. (they say) this should feel something like fire by dallisons | mental and physical trauma - Boyd & Stiles friendship - dream!Erica - rebuilding - 11k

"Turn it off." The pack looked up, stunned into silence by the first words they'd heard from him in weeks.

Stiles stood, trembling - his knees weak. He tried to run and collapsed, his bad leg failing him once again. Derek caught him. "Turn it off," he said, his voice unmistakably a growl.

The water continued leaking from the loose faucet, and all Stiles heard was Erica's blood against the concrete. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip.

#hljournal #drarry #wolfstar #sterek #monthly fic rec #multifandom fic rec #july fic rec #fic rec #larry stylinson #larrie hijinks

[thenextchapter22]

PART SIX!!

Description: You were an Angel who went to the human world to escape punishment for loving Lucifer only to be brought back into his life, this time in the Devildom where you pretend to be human.

In this chapter: You are back at the HOL...

Tags: Unrequited Love, Fluff, Angst, WIP

Pairing(s): Lucifer/Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Link to my AO3: Click Here

Authors Note: It’s been a month and my hiatus is over now, so please enjoy this next part!! Love you guys so much ~~

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

_+_

Being back in the House of Lamentation was a little strange. After a few extra days at Diavolo’s in that admittedly larger bedroom than yours, Lucifer had taken you back home. He bid you a quick farewell, a single hug and hair ruffling with his smirk, before he said he had duties to attend to. And things seemed back to normal with that. It was a little anticlimactic but…

Home. This was your home. Lord Diavolo gave you, an Angel (and were you still technically one, without your halo? Only wings and some leftover magic?), permission to live in the Devildom. A place for Demons, not… you. He called you ‘family’. Even Barbatos, when leaving the Castle, had smiled at you and given you a happy goodbye and an invite to tea whenever you’d like.

“Your company is always welcome,” the demon butler had said.

You stood just outside your doorway, as if turning the handle would transport you somewhere else. Maybe this was a dream. It was all too surreal to have actually happened.

Once you were inside, barely two steps in the bedroom, an invisible weight lifted off you. This was where you spent your nights, either totally alone and at peace, or with your housemates to keep you company. Studying with Satan or reading a novel and talking about the characters while sitting in your bed, or watching DevilTube with Mammon and laughing at the rom-coms because he was a sucker for those. If Asmo came back late from a party or if he was lonely and needing cuddles, you both would stay up late gossiping about everyone, and you would hear funny stories about Solomon or the brothers. When Levi would come out of his cave, and bring his handheld games, and you would battle each other for hours (you usually won only a few times but it was still fun). Eating midnight snacks you and Beel snuck out from the kitchen, waking up with crumbs in your bed and a different demon boy in your bed, Belphie, who was cuddling you and mumbling in his sleep, warm and soft, like the twins had traded you off.

The only demon brother who never came in your room was Lucifer… That man was always in his own bedroom, up late doing paperwork or wandering around doing things for Diavolo. He overworked himself constantly.

You smiled, recalling the first time you had ventured in his bedroom at night to give him some coffee and poison apples to snack on. He was grateful for it, and he smiled with crinkles in his eyes and warmth radiating from him, and he thanked you. It was one of your best moments here, with him. A small one, but still perfect.

“You’re back!!”

You jumped in surprise as your legs were attacked and you very nearly fell over. Your train of thought vanished immediately. Looking down, then seeing the mop of blonde, you realized it was just Luke.

He was a sweet Angel, still learning and growing, and he had a heart of gold. Sometimes he was a bit sensitive to the demon brothers teasing (mostly Mammon’s). It was funny to watch him get all flustered and red-faced when that happened and insult back to the best he of his abilities.

“Hi Luke,” you greeted, returning his hug. “I’m happy to see you.”

He grinned up at you, head just reaching mid-level, his chin resting on your abdomen. “I missed you. Are you feeling better? Simeon told me everything and I’m so excited to hear you’re an Angel just like us! You have to tell me all about when you lived in the Celestial Realm, please?”

Simeon chuckled from behind Luke, tugging him away gently. “Let’s leave her alone while she gets settled back in, okay? We can visit another time. We came to see Lucifer.”

Luke pouted, but sighed and nodded. He took your hand and squeezed it once. “I want to hear all about it, okay?” he asked with determination.

That was Luke, always adamant and cute. You smiled and ruffled his hair, the youngest Angel huffing. “I promise I will, Luke.”

Simeon waved goodbye, shutting the door behind him, and that left you alone in your little room. You fell onto your bed face first and inhaled deeply, rolling on your side and clutching a pillow to your chest.

Now what would happen? Things seemed to be returning to normal, but would everything?

A knock. “Are you in there Angel girl?” Belphegor’s voice came through the door.

You were a little nervous to see him, but he was the last demon brother you’d thought you’d see first. Seeing as he was usually asleep somewhere.

But when you opened the door, it wasn’t only Belphie. It was all of the brothers, minus Lucifer, and they had wide silly smiles on their faces. And then they tackled you in hugs, squeezing you and overwhelming you with their tight holds and back rubs. You just laughed and let them, knowing they probably had been worried about you after all.

“Guys—please, guys stop! I can’t breathe,” you laughed, shoving at the arms and torsos around you. Once you were free, you stepped back and smiled. Seeing all of their happy faces had your insides twisting in joy. “I missed you guys so much, it’s good to see every one of you.”

Mammon spoke first. “Damn right! We’ve been totally freaked out about you. We-well, I-I mean, I haven’t been losing sleep or anything, but they all kept asking Lucifer where you were and when you’re gonna come back. Ch, losers.” His face was flushed when he finished. Why was this white-haired demon so damn cute when he was trying to not care, you would never know the reason.

“I lost no sleep,” Belphie stated.

You chuckled. Typical Belphegor. “Well, I am sorry for worrying everyone…” You frowned, and looked at the floor. There was that inner voice telling you that even if they were all here and hugging you, it was still possible for them to dislike you for lying, hiding this entire time. “But… You don’t… hate me?”

Asmo gasped. “No, dear, we don’t hate you at all! We love you!”

That made you tear up a little bit, and Asmo cooed and hugged you. Mammon grumbled and Asmo gave you one last squeeze then let you go. Your face was a little bit red but only from the embarrassment of nearly crying when being told you were loved.

“How could we hate you? You’re still you,” Beel said.

Satan agreed. “Yes, exactly. Only now you have wings and magic we didn’t know about. You’ll have to show us sometime, I’ve never seen an Angel’s wings in person, only in textbooks. It makes sense why your grades in Celestial History are on par with my own.”

You smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, well… only up until a certain point…”

Satan chuckled. “Yes, I suppose that is true. I do want to see your wings, but we were told you’re still healing so there’s no rush.”

“Yes, we want to see them too, darling~”

“The Great Mammon should get first look.”

Waving your hands to calm them down, you nodded and agreed. “Okay, I promise I’ll show you eventually. But like Satan said I do have to take it easy for a while.”

You were planning on going for a midnight fly session tonight, though… But that was a secret that you felt comfortable keeping, like a small white lie. Hopefully no one would find out.

There was one demon who hadn’t said a word, in fact he barely hugged you like the others did. Leviathan. He was quietly standing in the doorway, fidgeting on the balls of his feet, probably waiting for his turn to say something but too shy to speak up.

“Levi? Do you have anything you want to tell me?”

He jumped in surprise, but nodded after a moment. His face flushed and he fumbled with his hands, he usually did that when he didn’t have a phone or device in them. “I-I just want to say… Please don’t ever ever EVER leave us again. I don’t know what I’d do without my midnight gaming buddy. And, well, I just—I love you, okay? You’re my Henry and you aren’t allowed to leave like that!” He was flustered when he finished and avoided eye contact with everyone.

The other boys ‘aw’ed and you smiled in happiness. It was incredible to know that no one hated you for hiding this from them.

“I won’t ever leave you, Levi.”

That was a promise you hoped to keep. These 6 demon boys here were family, your own siblings, and you loved them and all of their weird quirks.

“Hm, I want to ask you something,” Beel’s voice rang out.

Oh no, this was it. The dreaded questioning. They would want to know everything, why you left, where you were, why you lied. And you didn’t know if you had to courage to speak up.

“How did we not remember you?”

Oh thank the Heaven’s. Good kind Beel, nothing bad ever seemed to come from him. Shoving the urge to sigh appreciatively out loud because that would cause actual questions that would be difficult to answer, you instead pondered the question. Would it be against Lucifer’s wishes? He never mentioned keeping it a secret from his brothers.

And so, you told them. About Michael and their memories being tampered with. And they were livid. So livid in fact, they all transformed into their demon forms. And your room was filled with infernal magic and wings and tails flickering. It was intense, but you knew it all came from a place of love. Even Satan, who had yet to be born at the time this happened, was upset, his green tail twisting around. In the tiny space, it was a lot.

Holding up your hand, hoping this calmed them down, you spoke softly, “Please relax everyone. I’m okay now. Simeon and Lucifer helped me. No one can hurt me here.”

“And… you’re staying?” Satan asked.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

They all relaxed, and changed back to their ‘human’ forms. You felt that you could breathe again.

The silence was tense, and you swallowed thickly, trying to think of something to say. Luckily, someone else did.

Asmo clapped his hands and exclaimed, “Let’s have a movie night! Popcorn, blankets, cuddling. It’ll be so fun! It’s the perfect thing to reconnect.”

Good ole’ Asmo, you would kiss him if you didn’t think it would cause a disaster. “Yeah, let’s do it,” you agreed. “But I pick the movie. We’re watching a scary movie.” You wiggled your fingers, chuckling.

Mammon’s face dropped. “Uh, we—we should watch something else, like an Action movie. A superhero movie, those are awesome!”

“Why, are you gonna cry if we watch a horror film?” Satan teased.

“Yeah, poor Mammon’s gonna wet himself,” Belphie joked.

“He probably already has,” Levi chuckled.

Mammon growled, and reached for them with his hands, probably to strangle them, but you stuck out your hand. “Please, no fighting. We can watch a funny movie then.”

Mammon relaxed. “I didn’t care either way!” he declared.

So your bedroom was transformed into a fort of soft pillows, blankets and sheets. Satan used a spell to make the bed larger for everyone and he TV was enlarged, too. Very handy spellcasting. Beel and Levi went to get snacks and drinks, and everyone else got the room set up with pillows for everybody.

After the movie started, and everyone was situated on the huge bed, it was quiet. Everyone was scattered around with their own pillows and you felt surrounded by warmth. This was exactly what you needed, just some time with them, feeling at peace.

But the comfortable quiet did not last long.

From where Mammon was snuggled beside you, he nudged your arm and said, “So… are you gonna tell us about it?”

You blinked. “About what?”

“Your life with the humans. We want to know everything. What it was like, who you met. Oh, did you meet anyone famous?”

Satan sat up straight. “Yes, did you meet any historical figures?”

Everyone seemed to be listening in instead of watching the film now.

You thought it over, and nodded. “Yeah, a few I guess… they were ordinary people to me at the time, though… Just your fellow human helping out other humans. I tended to keep out of any major conflicts so not to affect too much. I guess just part of what I’d been taught growing up in the Celestial Realm: don’t do anything to change the path humanity will take.”

Mammon nodded. “What was one of your favorite memories?”

Wow, that was a hard question to answer. You even said so. “I lived on Earth for a long time... I have a lot of stuff packed in my head,” you chuckled.

“Aw, c’mon, there’s gotta be somethin’ that sticks out,” Mammon said. “You can’t think of one thing?”

“Oooh, what was your favorite style of outfit? Maybe those pretty dresses from the 18th century?” Asmo asked.

“Anything before the invention of the internet has to be the worst,” Levi commented.

Beel, while chewing on some popcorn, said, “The food is always gonna be good, but when the cheeseburger was created was probably my favorite time in history.”

You chuckled at each of their comments. But you did go through your favorite memories, friends’ long past and different towns flashing through your mind’s eye. Overall they were happy memories but in the end, it was always the same endgame. They died, and you moved on.

You must have made some noise or done something because Asmo made a cooing noise at you. “Oh, sweetie.” He immediately pulled you into his arms, tucking you into his neck to pet your hair. A few tear drops fell but you did sob or cry at all.

There were hands rubbing your back and arms, and you looked up to see the brother’s saddened smiling faces.

“We are here for you,” Satan reassured you, stroking his hand up and down your upper arm. His hand was warm and comforting.

Levi sniffled, and squeezed your hand. “Don’t cry anymore, you don’t need to when we can protect you now.”

Beel reached behind himself, and held out a candy bar towards you. “Hey, do you want some of my chocolate? It’s got small crunchy bits in it. And chocolate makes you feel better.” He smiled, and handed you the candy bar. It had a bite out of it, but the thought was nice.

“Thank you, Beel.”

“And here, take my blanket, you look cold.” Belphie put his small throw blanket over your lower half, making his brothers curse when it buried their own arms or hands.

You smiled up at him. “Thanks, Belphie.”

Asmo made a huffing sound. “Well, I want to play with your hair. Can I braid it, please?”

You giggled. “Go ahead, Asmo.”

You let them pamper you up, while the movie played in the background. Eventually the movie ended and Levi set up a racing game, and you all selected your characters and played together. It was a perfect first day back home.

#lucifer x you #reader x lucifer #mc x lucifer #obey me fanfiction #obey me shall we date #obey me shall we date fanfiction #obey me lucifer #obey me #obey me mc #obey me reader #wingfic #my fics #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me asmo #obey me levi #obey me belphie #obey me beel #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me barbatos #fanfcition #ao3 link

[sluttbuttsstuff]

La Squadra Backstory Headcanons Part 1 (GHIACCHIO AND MELONE

Since we’re probably never going to get any straight answers on their backstory, i’m writing my own for them.  Obviously, none of this is canon and guesswork

WARNINGS: none really, aside from dark themes 

GHIACCHIO:  

Came from a very large and very poor family, the youngest of many children.  

As a result, he was the last to get anything-last to get fed, last to get clothed, last to get attention.

He didn’t get the proper care he truly needed, so he had to fight and take what he really needed, or he would have to make do without.

He’s always had awful eyesight, but it wasn’t until stealing a classmate’s glasses that happened to be exactly what Ghiacchio needed, he fought the kid for them and gave him a black eye

“There, now you can’t even use them, they’re better off with me!”

Despite getting into a lot of fights, School was actually something of a sanctuary for Ghiaccio.  

He got the attention he needed, he was able to get free food through the lunch program, and excelled in several sports activities and physical Ed.

During middle school, under encouragement of a favorite teacher of his, he dedicated himself to his studies, and enrolled in as many extra curricular activities as he could stomach.

With his impressive physical fitness, natural intelligence, and a little anger management, his teacher convinced him he could get into a good college with a full scholarship that he wouldn’t otherwise be able to get into

Ghiacchio wasn’t always as loud, angry and violent as he was in La Squadra, but he did have issues with anger management, an inferiority complex, and a self-sabotaging need to always be right.  

But his teacher, now his mentor, never gave up on him.  He took Ghiaccio to therapy, gave him a shoulder to lean on, and served as the support he never got from his parents or siblings.

His family had no interest or desire to get involved with his life, or offer any support or encouragement.

School was tough- it was extremely stressful and he was pushing himself to his limits.  He had very little sleep, had to maintain a 4.0 grade average, but despite it all, Ghiacchio was very happy.

His mentor was like a father figure to him, without him, Ghiacchio wouldn’t have been able to get as far as he did.

And then the worst happened.

His mentor died naturally, of a heart attack, he was an older gentleman with a history of heart disease in his family.

It still broke Ghiaccio.

He skipped school for the first time in years to attend his funeral, and ended up getting in a fight with one of his teachers at school the next day.

Ghiacchio and his teacher argued over the correct pronunciation of a word, but really Ghiacchio was angry at his teachers and school-hell, the WORLD- that no one else had been at his mentor’s funeral.  He felt like no one cared about his mentor, and that included him.  

He broke the teacher’s nose, as well as several other bruises and nearly gave him a concussion.

Obviously, he was expelled from school after that, and sent to a juvenile prison.  He was able to finish high school in juvie, but no university or sports team wanted to sponsor him or offer him a scholarship. 

 It is his greatest regret, not being able to get the scholarship he and his mentor worked so hard for

But at the same time, he doesn’t regret attacking his other teacher and leaving school; he couldn’t stand by and let his mentor’s memory be forgotten, besmirched.

He would be picked up by Passione through the juvie system, he kept getting into petty fights with others and managed to impress some soldatos into offering him initiation.

I like to think that his strict grammar pet peeve stems from his mentor, who taught italian grammar and literature studies, and as a result was especially strict with teaching Ghiacchio proper italian.

The ice theme for his stand?  Yeah, it’s funny because he’s a hot head, but i think it’s his stand, as an extension of his mentor’s teachings trying to literally “Cool” him down.  He has to use a lot of focus to use White Album properly, just like how his studies and athletics would distract him from his own mental health issues.

At least, this is just what I think lol

MELONE:

Hoo-boy, this kiddo has to have had some serious  family issues

His father was the head doctor at the most prestigious fertility clinic in Italy

(He was also secretly into eugenics, and lots of other nasty stuff, but let’s get into that later)

He was so successful, he had even cured his own wife’s infertility

At least, that’s what he had everyone believe

Secretly, Melone’s father had had an extramarital affair with his secretary, who became pregnant and had Melone.

Under extreme threats and blackmail, Melone’s father managed to take Melone away from his biological mother, and convince his wife to raise Melone as her own.

Needless to say, Melone’s father was a very bad, manipulative man

Despite this, his wife had always wanted a child, and actually loved him and cared for him deeply, and Melone became her child as much as his biological mother

Melone’s father was very strict and had high expectations of Melone from a young age.

Melone had private tutors, a personal chef and nutrition plan, and even a physical fitness teacher who would regularly exercise him.

Melone had no other siblings, surprisingly, despite his father’s obsession with eugenics and breeding.  

His father must have been afraid of the possible scandal that would arise from an affair or divorce (italy is still a heavily catholic country after all) and his wife, Melone’s “adoptive” mother was still barren,

Since Melone was an only child, home schooled and surrounded by paid lackeys of his father, he was very lonely.  

His mother was his one and only real friend in his life.  She would sneak him dessert snacks, read him fairytale stories if he got tired of his textbooks, and even played games like jump rope and hide and seek with him.

The entire reason his “Adoptive” mother had married his father in the first place was because it had been her lifelong dream to have children, and she was determined to give Melone all the love his father couldn’t and wouldn’t.

And that was life for a long time- it wasn’t the best childhood but Melone couldn’t really complain.  His father kind of scared him, but at the same time he earned Melone’s respect.  

Melone was interested in Biology, and learning about genetics like his father.

And when the stress of living up to his father, and his own, expectations became too hard, he could always run to his mother.

Then, Melone’s biological mother found him

Melone’s biological mother had never really gotten over losing her only child, and despite the monthly salary and isolated home she had received for her silence, she couldn’t forget about Melone.  

It started innocuously enough, clipping out pictures she saw of him and his father from the clinic’s advertisement brochures, watching him from afar play at the beach with his mother on vacation.  

But it wasn’t enough- she couldn’t just GIVE UP her child.

She started to stalk him, taking photos of him playing in his backyard, going through the garbage to find old school projects and tests in the trash can.  She would try to sneak into the house, bribing guards and getting in fights with the tutors trying to get into Melone’s home.  

Melone didn’t know the whole story between his parents and this “Surrogate” (he had been sworn to secrecy by his mother, knowing it was important to tell adopted children early on or risk causing severe trauma later in life)  but he knew his parents were becoming more and more stressed out.

One day, it came to a head, and Melone’s biological mother successfully was able to meet Melone.  

Melone was a little afraid at first, but his other mommy was so nice to him, and gave him lots of hugs and love like his other mom and played with him at the park.  

They actually had a really fun time together, and it had a lasting impact on Melone for the rest of his life.

But all good things have to end, and for the first time in his young life, Melone was confronted with death.  

Eventually, Melone’s bodyguards (his father had employed some after finding out about Melone's biological mother stalking him) caught up to them, and Melone and his mother tried to escape.  

Melone’s other mother was with the bodyguards,and when Melone saw her, he was unsure of what to do.

He loved both of his mothers, he wanted to stay with both of them, why were they making him choose?

Under His father’s orders The bodyguards, who Melone later found out were associated with passione, shot his biological mother.  Terrified Melone would be shot as well, his adoptive mother dove in front of him to protect him from the bullets.

Both of his mothers were shot, his father had ordered them to kill the bio mother no matter what, even if Melone got shot.  Apparently, MElone’s father would rather risk his son’s life than let his bio mother escape with them and risk the scandal.  Knowing this, his adoptive mother was shot and killed protecting him.  

On that day, Melone lost both of his mothers, the most important people in his life, all because of his father.  

It took a long time for Melone to process what happened-his father didn’t help things either.  He was just as cold and clinical with Melone as ever, and with no one who truly cared about him in his life, Melone withdrew more and more into himself and his studies.

He was civil with his father, and maintained his studies and health, until he officially turned 18.  

After years of planning, he poisoned his father in his sleep and killed him.

The Police were never able to press charges or find any evidence on him, but Passione noticed, and saw potential in him.  

They gave him an ultimatum, pass initiation and join their ranks, or get turned into the police by passione and get his inheritance stolen by the gang.

Without much of a choice, Melone agrees, and finds he actually likes life in la squadra

It goes without saying, his mothers were a huge influence in both his life and his stand.

Both of his mother’s lives were so sad and lonely because they couldn’t have a child.  

He desperately wishes he could have used Baby Face on his mothers, either not realizing or not caring about the implications.

Despite his mother’s best efforts, Melone never really had proper social interaction as a child, and it seriously screwed him over in life, even interacting with la squadra. 

 He’s read up on how to behave in public, social psychology, but it's not the same as learning as a child

It’s easier to learn those things as a child, which is why he makes sure to spend at least a little time with each Baby Face on how to behave and treat others; at least they can succeed where he couldn’t.

It’s also why he can’t control himself around women- he thinks he’s genuinely helping them by giving them children or getting them pregnant.

He’s giving them what his own mothers couldn’t

And you can BET he takes his role as father VERY seriously- you saw how he taught and trained Baby Face in canon.  He’s intense, but he’s also a lot more loving than his own dad was.

I’ll admit, this backstory is a little bit “Soap Opera” but I think it still fits him

#sluttbuttsstuff #la squadra #jjba #vento aureo #ghiacchio #melone #sfw #headcanons #fic #imagines

[hxlyhead-harpies]

The Last Dream of My Soul part 1. (R.L.)

hello everyone! This is the first part of the Remus Lupin series that i’m starting and i am soooo excited. i am still new at this so any feedback is appreciated!! i hope you enjoy!!

Pairing: Young!Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: The very bookish (Y/n) has spent most of her life alone, aside from her best friends Lily and her beloved books. But when the infamous Marauders get thrust into her life, how could she resist the beautiful and unattainable Remus.

Warnings: Cursing

Word Count: 3.1k

The yellowing and rough pages of old books had always felt like home to you. The smell of the aging parchment and the worn and weathered covers had always offered you more comfort than any real person ever had. On a bad day, you’d be able to curl up in your bed, lulled to sleep by your favorite characters, and adventures more exciting than your own life. As the years pushed forward this was how your life was. You didn’t have many friends but that was okay because you had your books. Who needed a best friend when you could spend your afternoons in Narnia with the Pevensie siblings or tumble through rabbit holes with Alice? For the early years of your childhood, you were content with the reality that you wished you could be in any world than your own. Your boring, magicless, and unmysterious world.

But that all changed the year you turned eleven. You remember the day as if it were yesterday. You were laying on your bed, your legs tangled in the quilt your mother had made. A Nancy Drew book sat in front of you, the plot of which now escapes you but at this point, you had already solved the mystery yourself. It was a perfect summer afternoon. The sun was out and you could hear the other neighborhood kids shouting from outside your window. They never invited you out to play but you were okay with that; you had far more exciting things to read. You were turning a page, nearly halfway through the book, when you heard tapping from your window. Your head shot up- your reading induced trance was now broken- only to be met with the sight of a snowy owl. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. You had never seen that type of bird around here. And you had certainly never seen one clutching a letter between its talons. You carefully marked your page in your book and quickly hopped out of bed. You made your way to the window and attempted to open it, a task that proved difficult for your small eleven-year-old body. After a few moments of a struggle, you finally pried it open. The owl dropped the letter inside your room and flew off. You bent down to pick up the parchment from the floor to see that the letter was addressed to you, and was from someplace called Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

From that moment on your world had been flipped upsidedown, at least in the sense that everything now had to change. But to you, if anything, the world had finally been made right. Magic was real- and you had the pleasure of possessing it. It was like some part of you had always known that magic existed beyond the pages of your favorite books. It was as if everything finally made sense.

You dragged your family down the streets of Diagon Alley, absorbing every bit of magic culture that you could. You reveled in the lights and the feeling of warmth that coursed through your veins when you finally picked up the right wand at Ollivanders. You squealed with delight when your parents purchased you an owl and you nearly died of excitement when you realized that pictures plastered on posters in the alleys moved. And when you ran through the seemingly solid barrier at Kingscross station you thought you would pass out from the thrill. And when you got on the train you curled up by yourself in a compartment, hurriedly reading through your History of Magic textbook, attempting to soak up every bit of knowledge that you could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

During your first year at Hogwarts, you came to the slow realization that you might actually need friends. Now that you knew that magic was real you wanted to experience as much of it as you could, and it felt rather lonely to experience it all on your own. The characters in your books had always had sidekicks and best friends on their grand adventures, and being accepted into Hogwarts marked the beginning of yours. Now you just needed someone to share it with. Luckily, the pretty girl with brilliant green eyes and glowing red hair that shared your dorm had the same idea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

By your fourth year, you and Lily Evans were attached at the hip. You spent nearly all your time together, inside and outside of class, and told each other absolutely everything. She knew everything about you, every detail and every secret, and you knew the same about her. Sure you had other friends, Marlene and Alice were nice and you hung around them quite often, but it was nothing like your relationship with Lily. She was the Elizabeth Bennet to your Charlotte Collins. Nobody understood you as she did, and you didn’t think you’d ever find anyone else who did.

But despite your closeness, you always felt a tinge of jealousy towards her. She was everything you weren’t: she was strong and outgoing, she felt no fear when talking to strangers, and it seemed that everyone instantly took a liking to her. Everyone loved her. She had flocks of friends, granted she wasn’t as close to any of them as she was to you, but it occasionally made you feel unimportant. It also seemed as if half of the year was in love with her. James Potter was evidence of that, constantly making a fool of himself to impress her. Lily always scoffed at him, not finding any of his antics even slightly attractive. And out loud you agreed with her that he was just a silly boy, but deep down you wished someone would give you at least a fraction of the attention that he gave her. But that was how it always went. Lily was the type of girl that boys would fall in love with. You, on the other hand, her quiet and shy sidekick, went largely unnoticed. But everything was fine. Because in moments when you felt lonely or inadequate you could turn to your books just as you did when you were young. Fingers tracing over the words of Mr. Darcy’s declaration of love or Romeo and Juliet’s final moments. And at the time, it was enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was your seventh year when things really started to change. After years of begging, Lily finally said yes to James. You were happy for her of course, she seemed to really like him. And he obviously really liked her. The way that James looked at her could only be described in the words of your favorite novels. But with her new relationship came uncharted territory: Lily now sat with him at most meals, though every few breakfasts she’d make a point to sit with you, and the spot you usually occupied next to her in the common room was now occupied by James. And the worst part was that you were now alone on Hogsmeade weekends, a time that was usually reserved for you and Lily to walk arm and arm around the small village. But despite all of this you couldn’t be mad at her. You saw how happy she was- and her happiness made you happy as well. But you couldn’t help but feel a tad jealous that she got to feel an emotion that you yearned to feel with your entire being. Love.

“(Y/n) come on!” Lily exclaimed, throwing up her hands in exasperation. You groaned, looking up at her from the book in front of you. You were currently rereading A Tale of Two Cities, a favorite of yours that was littered with dogeared pages and underlined phrases. You made eye contact with your best friends, noticing the frustration in her eyes.

“Can you please just come eat breakfast with us?” she asked, rubbing her temple with her fingertips.

“Lils you know I want to eat breakfast with you but I don’t want to interrupt your time with James,” you replied, starting to look back down at your book.

“You’re not interrupting anything! All of his friends sit with us too!” she said desperately. When you didn’t respond to her exclamation she reached down and snatched the book from your hands.

“Lily!” you cried, sitting up and attempting to steal back your book.

“No (Y/n) I’m not giving this back until you come eat with me! I feel like I never see you anymore,” she said.

“Yeah, that’s because you’re always with James,” you responded while making another sad attempt to reclaim your novel. Lily’s face fell.

“Do you think I’m spending too much time with him? I swear I don’t mean to ignore you, I’ll stop eating meals with him and we can go to Hogsm-” she rambled, practically shoving the old book back into your hands.

“No Lily!” you shouted, cutting her off. “You’re not spending to much time with him! It seems like a perfectly acceptable time to spend around your boyfriend. I just miss you that’s all,” you said quietly. Lily’s face softened.

“Then come eat breakfast with me. I want you to get to know James better. You two are my favorite people I want you to get along,” she once again urged.

“Lily I’m not sure… I don’t really know anyone else there and you don’t have to worry I already like James plenty,” you replied.

“Just come, please! I promise that you’ll like his friends!” she practically begged. You sighed in defeat, finally giving in.

“Fine Lily,” you grumbled, standing up to gather your things.

“Yay!” Lily exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

“But, I can only promise today. If his friends suck I won’t come back,” you exclaimed sternly. Lily nodded solemnly.

“Understood.”

The two of you made your way down to the Great Hall for breakfast as Lily attempted to give you a rundown on the group of boys that you were about to meet.

“Ok so obviously you know James, he plays quidditch and is studying to become an Auror. His best friend is Sirius who, I know, has a reputation but I swear he’s no that ba-”

“Lily I know who they all are! We’ve been in the same house for the last seven years,” you said, interrupting her with a laugh. Lily rolled her eyes at you.

“Yes I know you know them but you don’t know them,” Lily replied.

“Fine fine,” you said, throwing your hands up in surrender. “Continue.”

“Thank you,” Lily smiled. “As I was saying, Sirius is not as bad as everyone makes him out to seem. Yes, he hooks up with quite a few girls but he’s actually very funny and is secretly a sweetheart. Then there’s Peter, who I’ll admit is a little odd, but he’s harmless. And finally, there’s Remus. He honestly reminds me of you: he’s quiet and he reads a lot like you do. But he’s kind of a smartass sometimes so watch out for that,” she said, finished with her rundown. By this point, the two of you had reached the great hall. Breakfast was already in full swing and the room was swarming with students. Lily grabbed your arm and led you to a spot about midway down the table. She plopped down next to James, kissing him quickly on the cheek, causing Sirius to make a fake gagging face, before pulling you down to sit next to her.

“Boys,” she said, attempting to catch the attention of all four boys.

“This is (Y/n), my best mate in the entire world, so you all better be nice to her,” Lily stated matter-o-factly. You looked up to give a meek smile to all the boys. James greeted you warmly, Sirius gave you a small nod, Peter waved excitedly, and Remus didn’t even look up at you. You frowned for a moment before Sirius smacked Remus’s arm from his spot next to him.

“Hey Moony, pay attention we have a guest,” he said jokingly before shooting you a smile. Remus’s head shot up quickly, looking from Sirius to you, locking his eyes with yours. Once he seemingly realized what was happening he shot you a quick smile. You smiled back, attempting to hide the blush that the momentary eye contact had caused. You had always found Remus attractive, but you had never been so near him before. Something about the proximity made you jittery and made your palms sweat.

“Sorry about that,” he said, lifting a book from underneath the table. He flashed the cover of the book towards you. The title, Crime and Punishment, was sprawled across the worn cover. You felt your nose crinkle, reminded of how much you disliked the book. Remus’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What? Not a fan of Dostoevsky?” he asked. You shook your head.

“I guess the plot was interesting enough but oh my Godric was it dense,” you replied with a groan. You heard Remus chuckle from his spot across from you.

“Yeah, I suppose I can see where you’re coming from. I am enjoying it so far though,” he replied. You hummed in understanding before reaching for a piece of toast.

“Oh come on Lily,” Sirius said with a grin. “I can’t believe you would bring another nerd along. We already have Remus, we don’t need another one,” he continued. You felt your face heat up, ducking your head as you bit into the piece of toast. Lily narrowed her eyes at Sirius.

“Sirius I told you to be nice,” she said before throwing a piece of her roll at him. He laughed before throwing his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry (Y/n),” he apologized. You sent him a quick nod to let him know that it was okay, before pulling out your own book. As you stared down at the pages in front of you, you missed Remus perking up in interest.

“What are you reading?” he asked, setting his book down. You looked up quickly, showing him the cover.

“A Tale of Two Cities. It’s one of my favorites,” you answered shyly. You felt Lily shift beside you before speaking.

“She’s read that book probably a million times,” she said. You rolled your eyes.

“I wouldn’t say a million times, but yes I’ve read it quite a few times,” you replied before shifting your eyes back to Remus. He let out a soft laugh.

“I’ve never read it before. I’ll have to pick a copy up when we go to Hogsmeade. One of the shops sells muggle books,” he said with a small smile.

“You can borrow mine!” you said too quickly, causing yourself to blush. He looked at you, surprised.

“Oh, uh sure. I’ll borrow it when I’m done with this,” he replied, once again holding up Crime and Punishment. You heard Lily snicker from beside you.

“Good luck trying to read one of her books,” Lily said. “There’s so much writing in the margins it’s nearly impossible to get through.” You turned to her and smacked her lightly on the shoulder.

“Hey! It’s not that bad,” you said with a slight pout.

“I don’t mind,” Remus said, causing your eyes to turn back to him. “I’ll be interested in reading your thoughts as well as the book,” he said earnestly. You felt yourself smile involuntarily. You were about to reply when James stood up suddenly.

“Damnit we’re going to be late to potions,” he exclaimed. And with that, you all gathered your things and left.

Potions was generally a subject that you were good at. You often found yourself shooting your hand up during class to answer questions and Professor Slughorn had taken a liking to you. However, you found yourself unable to pay attention to the lesson. From your seat on the far side of the room, you had caught yourself staring at Remus. He was joking around with Peter, his potions partner, and had a wide smile spread across his face. He had scars running down his face, though they didn’t make him less attractive. In fact, they only seemed to add to the allure. His hair was messy and fell into his eyes. You felt yourself sigh when he ran his finger through his hair to get it out of his face.

“(Y/n)? Are you all right?” Lily asked, startling you. You nearly jumped from your seat, hand pressed to your chest.

“Merlin Lils! You scared me,” you replied. She squinted her eyes at you.

“(Y/n)? What’s going on with you?” she asked, scanning your face.

“Nothing!” you swore, stealing another quick glance at Remus. That was when the realization hit her. A teasing smile quickly spread it’s way across Lily’s face.

“Oh my goodness you fancy Remus don’t you?” she inquired, making your eyes widen and face flush. You pushed her shoulder lightly.

“Lily hush! And no I don’t!” you exclaimed as you glanced around the room to make sure that no one had heard her.

“Oh, you totally do! All that book talk this morning must’ve really got to you huh,” she said, waggling her eyebrows at you. You put your head in your hands and groaned.

“Shut up Lily!”

“Only when you admit it,” she responded.

“Fine! But you can’t tell anybody! Not even James,” you warned. Lily grinned from beside you.

“Oh, this is perfect! The two of you are perfect for each other!” she exclaimed.

“Lily! Just be quiet. It’s not like it’s ever going to happen,” you said. Lily looked at you, confusion was written all over her face.

“What do you mean it’s never going to happen?” she asked. You sighed, glancing at Remus once again. He was stirring the potion in front of him, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Lily why would he ever like me?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” she replied, clearly exasperated. You turned to her, giving her an incredulous look.

“We have seven years of evidence that boys don’t like me,” you respond. Lily rolled her eyes beside you.

“Well, this is different trust me,” Lily responded. You stare at her.

“How could this possibly be any different?”

“Because you could actually talk to Remus, get to know him He’ll obviously fancy you once he learns more about you.” Then it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Lily, it’s never going to happen so just drop it,” you responded. You picked up the recipe for the potion that you were assigned to make that day.

“Now, can you please hand me the adder’s fork,” you said, listing off the first ingredient. Lily sighed.

“Fine. But we’ll be talking about this later.”

#remus #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #young!remus lupin #young!remus x reader #young!remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus x oc #remus lupin x oc #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #maruaders fic #maruaders era #maruaders imagine #maruaders x reader #remus lupin fluff #james potter #sirius black #peter pettigrew #lily evans #hogwarts #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin/reader

[cherripeach]

Chapter 10

Little Match Maker

Summary: Your life motto is “I have the power of god and anime on my side, don’t mess with me,” and you stand by that with your life. No human, magician, or random creature could ever stop your firm belief in it.

However, getting transported to this world that seemed to turn your already bad luck worse was not what you wanted to be in your life story, but you made the most of it. Making friends, enemies, and disasters, you were in your prime in this world, and so you decided to help as many people as you could flourish, at least what you believed to be.

Chapter 1:5 i’m jared 19 and i never learned how to read

Warnings: Curse words, implied sex jokes

Words: 3.4k

Relationships: developing but future twstxreader

You three made it to homeroom right before the final bell rang, meaning none of you were late which was boring in your opinion. Being fashionably late especially on the first day just shows character. 

The classroom was full of caldrons like from Harry Potter but also full of lab coats like a science lab. There were also just shelves with glass covering them full of plants that you have never seen before and ones you hoped to never touch because you are 100.69% sure they can kill you. Then, there were just shelves of bottles of potions like in the movies which you also did not want to touch not for fear of death but because they could turn you into a frog or something which sounded kinda cool now that you thought about it. Still, you were not going to do it.

Your teacher, however: a hottie. He obviously knows about style and fashion if his dual colored hair and his fur coat are anything to go by. He also had a perfectly shaped face with sharp eyes that you just couldn’t look away from. The whip in his hand told you enough about his life outside of school, and the collar at the end of it also told you enough. This man was def not someone to disrespect, and ngl he could yell at you. That’s for another time; you just hoped you could stare at the man for the entire class. 

Once you and your three friends put the lab coats and goggles on and went to your seats (you assumed because Ace and Deuce dragged you there), the gorgeous man started to lecture, “I see you’re the fresh new faces who will be joining my class today.” He walked around the classroom and gazed at everyone’s figure. “Hm~ What an unusual hair color. Not bad at all, I say. Be careful not to take too long to finish, understood?” He made it to your group of seats near the back and stopped, “My name is Divus Crewel.” His gaze was caught on you for a couple of seconds until he returned to walking around the classroom, “You shall refer to me as Master Crewel, if you please.” He had the most miniscule smirk when he turned back to meet your eyes. 

You turned to Ace with your wide eyes and muttered, “Please tell me he gets you hot and bothered too.” 

Ace just glared and spat back at you, “Only you are dealing with those feelings.” 

Master Crewel clapped his hands twice, “Come, settle down. It’s time for class to begin. First off, a few disclaimers.” 

The entire class ceased the side conversations, and you even placed the weight of your chin on your hands with your elbows on the desk so you could balance your newfound crush for him.

The magnificent man just lightly placed the edge of the whip on his desk, “I shall have your tiny brains remember hundreds of names of medicinal herbs and poisonous plants. And mushrooms are a whole different topic. I’ll have you remember them so that you don’t accidentally poison yourself if you eat some when you go for a walk. Dogs love to eat anything they see, after all.I don’t want to see anyone getting a failing mark during the exam, so I shall be as strict as I can.”

You don’t even remember what he was saying, but you just nodded the entire time. This was a class you knew you were going to stay awake in. Your eyes were still stuck on his figure, and you knew just from looking at him that you may not have a failing grade because you bet you were going to ask for help. 

Your three idiots were seemingly having a conversation next to you while your brain was stuck in your fantasies of after school tutoring. 

Your mind was stuck in your fantasy until the end of class when someone had to use his textbook to smack the back of your head, “Ouch!” You spun around only to find Grim and Ace behind you with a textbook in Ace’s hand. 

 Grim snickered out behind you, “You deserved that, Prefect. Even I, the Great Grim, was paying more attention in this boring class.” By the end of the sentence he sighed all of it out. 

“Come on. Let’s not be late.” Deuce grabbed his stuff and motioned to your group to leave. 

You lightly and neatly put up your lab coat and goggles because male Cruella De Vil was still situated at the front of the class, and you had to look good in front of him. 

“Have a great day!” You gushed out while frantically waving at the man to give him a proper farewell. 

Ace slapped your hand down once you exited the room, “Can you please stop? It’s getting real disgusting.” 

You blew a raspberry at him while the four of you were on your way to your next class, “Oh, shut up and let me be a simp.”

“A what? You know what I’m ignoring you.” Ace shook his head and sighed at your comments. 

The conversation stopped after that when you began to make your way up stairs to get to your next class. You had to go up two flights of stairs which ended with you leaning along a wall, red-faces, and out of breath by the middle of it. 

“Hurry up, supervisor,” Deuce advised. 

You hissed, “Shut up.”

The three of you arrived at your next class which Decue said was “something-something history.” And you were actually kind of excited because you have no clue what has happened in this world, and it is gonna be so different with magic and everything.  

You three took seats near the middle of class, so all of you could still concentrate but still talk some. This class room was structured much more like a lecture hall than the past one with a chalk board at the front behind a teacher desk and desks being on different platforms going up, and so your group had to go up a couple of stairs to get to where you claimed were your seats. 

The class all took their seats and shut their mouths once an older man without a uniform came into the classroom carrying a cat. 

The cat had your full attention for this class because you now have the human desire to pet and love the cat as one should. 

Once the professor sat down with the cat on his lap, he introduced himself, “I am Trein, the professor in charge of Magical History. And this is my familiar, Lucius. I shall have you learn the history behind the magic that you are using now.”

Lucis, the cute little black cat who had a hint of white on his front right under his head, confirmed Professor Trein’s previous statements with a “Meow.”

It took a couple of seconds for you to process the Professor’s words, but once you did you turned to Deuce who was located to the left of you and blurted out, “Wait, is Lucius a real cat? What's a familiar? Can I not pet him? OMG, what if he can understand what I’m saying. That cannot be it-”

Professor Trein cut you off midway with another Lecture (Deuce was just gazing at you with disappointment in his eyes), “I do not only grade by your reports, but also by how you behave in my classroom. I will not tolerate sleeping in class. Now then, please turn to page 5 of your textbooks. This is related to the magic stone that was discovered inside the Dwarf Mines.”

You were taken aback by everything, but you also realized that you did not have a text book. You didn’t even have a book bag or pens, so you turned to Deuce to only flutter your lashes and pout at him until he shared his textbook with you and gave you lose leaf and a pen. 

Lucis decided to bring his voice into the conversation, “Meow.”

“The discovery of this jewel led to magical energy being able to spread worldwide. It could also be considered as the 1st year magic was made possible.” Professor Trein continued his lecture, and you were actually actively taking notes because this was like some wack anime and you had to know the full plot line.

“Meow.”

Ace yawned into his hand when you gazed at him. 

And Deuce was taking notes but his eyes were also beginning to close, “Oh…! The Dwarf Mines, huh… Oh…! Magical energy, huh…” You had to kick him to keep him awake.

Grim rested his head on the desk, “Ugh… I want a more explosive and flashier magic class!”

You could only sigh at the three idiots not paying attention while your pen kept on writing. 

By the end of the class and the lecture was over, all three of the spots next to you were occupied with asleep idiots. You put your stuff into your pockets and got up to nug Grim on his shoulder for him to wake up. His head slowly lifted up with his eyes still closed, so you decided to just carry him to the next class. He was in your arms by the time you got everything together and moved onto the other two idiots asleep. 

You kicked Deuce in the calf who jumped up immediately and rushed to get everything together, and then moved onto Ace to pull his hair. Ace stayed still until you found a certain spot of hair closest to his neck and pinched it and tugged on it. That had him reaching for your hand to stop your actions and had him awake and ready to move. 

“Get up, class already ended.” You let go of his hair to move to the walkway of the classroom. 

Ace shook his head to wake himself further up, “Okay.. but why did you have to pinch me so hard?”

“Were you gonna wake up by yourself?”

“No.”

“I think you see my thought process, then.” You shrugged your shoulders while the two remaining boys got their things together. After that all three of you were off to your next class, causing you to walk down stairs and through hallways until the three of you made it to a field outside.

The boys made you drop off your stuff, which wasn’t much anyway, and Grim in order to go and change into a P.E. uniform. Apparently, in the locker room, there were some extra uniforms for you to change into. 

The locker room stunk of mold and fungus from somewhere in the corners of the room, but Deuce led you to a bin of uniforms. He just pulled the first one from the pile and gave it to you. It was a bright green shirt with a dragon or lizard on it. Then, he gave you a black jacket with yellow stripes on the sleeves and a pair of pants with a faded royal purple stripes on parts of the pants. Seems were also ripped out of certain parts of the uniform with most of the colors being lightly faded. Looking at the uniform as a whole, it was definitely going to be too large on you. 

You thanked Deuce while he was walking away to the right side of the locker room, and then, you got moving. You observed the locker room to see if there were any bathrooms and to your luck, toward the back there was another door which led into the bathroom. You entered the next room to find no line and no one in the last stall. On your way to the stall, you passed up a bulky male with silver-white animal ears on his head in a yellow uniform who was washing his hands. You set foot in the final stall to only find the toilet flooded and writings all over the wall, causing you to let out a sigh and shut and lock the door just happy you did not have to use the restroom. 

Once dressed, you took your cloak and other clothes and walked out of the stall to wash your hands. Looking in the mirror was not on your to-do list, so you kept your eyes stuck on the faucet and your hands because the headache from the rat’s nest on your head and the slight pain from parts of your face gave you all the information you needed. You left the restrooms and found a deserted area where many lockers were empty. You threw your clothes in one of the middle lockers, closed it, and took account of the number of the locker. 

You left the locker room to see that you were one of the final people to get dressed and get out of the locker room. Grim, Ace, and Deuce were seated on the ground near the back of the group, and you made your way to them with many different eyes on you. 

The hulking man blew his whistle to get everyone in the class and started a speech, “I’m Vargas and I’m in charge of watching over your physical education.Excellent magic starts with excellent bodies! Behold…! These muscles that I train every day! A magician with no stamina is unspeakable! First, do 20 laps around the field! And then, 100 sit-ups!” He blew the whistle again and threw his pointer finger out the motion for you all to start your laps.

The three of you jumped up from your spot on the ground and slowly walked over to the track. 

Ace grimaced at the teacher, “Eh… I don’t hate exercise, but I can’t handle teachers like him.”

“I have confidence in my physical abilities,” Deuce had his hands on his hips and was twisting his torso around to stretch it. 

Grim shook his head, “What's so fun about running around? I’m not a hamster, yanno?”

You just sighed and joined the group of students starting to run. Ace, Deuce, Grim, and you slowly joined the middle of the group in a jog around the field. 

You were left pondering for a second about everything and anything and your mind went straight to how you could get out of the stuffy cloak because even if you did look like an adventurer you could not stand to wear it in the heat all the time. So you started up a conversation:

“Yo, Deuce,” You bumped arms with him, making Deuce’s eyes slowly drifted to your figure, “Do you know where I could get a school uniform? Is there like a store or something nearby?” 

Deuce contemplated your question for a couple of seconds until he snapped his fingers, “There is a shop on campus that has everything. We could stop there after school today.” 

“Well, that’s one thing covered,” Your feet were still in a constant jog, but they started to cramp in some areas, “I hope they have a clearance section.” 

The rest of PE was much more strenuous than you expected. This teacher thought that all of you were Olympic Athletes with all the work he is making you do, but looking at some of the students here (the green shirt-green haired fellow who is racing down the track whenever possible and the furry male who you saw in the bathroom earlier). Everyone was doing better than you. Even Grim. 

However, the exercises were soon over and you were all allowed to go back to the locker rooms and change. You were for now stuck lying on the ground wheezing from the physical activities you just completed in the past hour. Ace and Deuce went back to get changed and Grim is asleep on the grass behind you. 

“You okay?” A male’s voice could be heard from somewhere above you, but you were too drained to even move your eyes to see who it was. 

You groaned, “Don’t mind me. I’m just slowly decaying.” 

The male was speechless for a second and did not respond until your eyes fluttered open the slightest bit, “Do you want water? Or the nurse?” 

“No, oh gracious savior, but I’d rather you leave me here to be eaten by the birds.” You shut your eyes, listening to Grim groan besides you.

“Um...okay. Please get better,” The male’s footsteps could be heard walking away. 

You stayed there for about another hour in your head just trying to breathe in and out and maybe even fall asleep until a kick was landed on your side. 

“Get up, you lazy ass.” Ace was blessing you with his presence and his torment.

You hurled your body forward and up to grip Ace’s foot which was making its way to your side again, “Don’t you have a sense of common courtesy to not kick someone when they are dying?” 

“You aren’t dying, but you are wasting our break time.” Ace groaned and pulled his foot out of your grip, “So go get dressed.”

Rolling your eyes, you gathered yourself and stood up to make your way back to the changing rooms. You left Grim to be with Ace, so you hoped those two would not cause problems. The rest was a lack of oxygen and lack of water blur until you found your three idiots out in the hallway and began your track to your next class. You decided to take your time a little because you had a ten minute break before the next class. 

Deuce was looking around the hallways for the next class, “Let’s see, the next class is..”

Ace was pouting next to you, “For a magic school, it doesn’t really feel that much different from a normal school, huh… It’s a lot more… ordinary than I thought… Guess I don’t have to worry much even without magic.” His body shifted to turn to your side, “Dontcha think so, too, Grim? Hm…” 

You gazed at where Grim last was which was to the left of you and let your eyes focus and blink for a couple of seconds, “Are you fucking kiddin me?”

A gasp was heard from Deuce in front of you, “Look outside the window! That fluffball running in the Courtyard…” He pointed out Grim’s exact spot in the middle of the large area. 

Once you began your sprint to him, you could hear him cackling about how he did not deserve to listen to boring lectures all day. 

You stopped your run when you realized that you would never be able to make it farther due to PE kicking your butt, “If I have to go to school, then, so does he.”

Deuce and Ace were arriving right behind you.

Deuce crossed his arms, “Running away on the first day…” He shook his head, “That guy just doesn’t learn, huh.” 

“Being negligent on the first day, are we? So, d’ya want us to help you catch Grim?” A smirk bloomed on Ace’s face. 

You scrunched your nose, “If I have to be here, then so does he.”  threaded your hands together and squeezed your eyes shut and bowed, “Please, please help me.”

“I want some chocolate croissants from the canteen!” 

Deuce blurted in agreement, “Then, I shall have some café latte from the cafeteria.”

You rose from your bow, “Perfect, perfect. Thank yooou!!” not even thinking about how you were going to afford that. 

Ace and Deuce pulled their magic pens out of their pockets and joined each other in front of you to start their hunt for Grim. 

Ace smirked at Deuce, “And that’s a deal! Alright, shall we go help out our helpless prefect, Deuce-kun?”

Deuce narrowed his eyes and rolled back his sleeves of his jacket, “Sure thing, Ace-kun. I’m most looking forward to lunchtime.”

“I’ll be in the classroom once you catch him.” You waved the two off while they began their hunt for the cat. 

By the time you made it to your next class, the three showed up with sweat dripping from their faces, their clothes in disarray, and the teacher right behind them. 

This would surely be a great year.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst grim #ace trappola #twst deuce #twst x you

[starbuckie]

𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐰

challenge: 200 followers challenge by @angrybirdcr

prompt: “there may have been a slight misunderstanding, but nothing we can’t fix.” and locked in the trunk of a car

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

words: 5,504 words

warnings: post-endgame, bucky’s kinda a dick, enemies to friends(?), swearing, angst, mentions of violence, talk about sexual assault, guns, bickering, jealousy

summary: bucky had been adjusting to the new familiarity of having a stable routine, right until she walked in.

a/n: I DON’T NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO MARVEL. okay, great, done that, but congratulations on 200 followers!! i had so much fun taking part in your writing challenge, so thank you so much. imma be honest, there’s not a lot of romance in this, it’s some enemies to friends type of shit and i genuinely did not think this fic would get so angsty and dark and actually long, but i had an idea and ran with it mid way through the old fic with this prompt. also i had an idea for an epilogue to this, so tell me if you want that part 2 because i am on the verge of writing it. this is not proofread by a beta, but i edited it myself and hope it is okay. anyways, now that we’re done with that, please enjoy this rollercoaster of a fanfic i’ve written.

main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

Life in the twenty-first century was strange, Bucky concluded. Though he’d been free of HYDRA for around nine years technically, being a fugitive and in another realm didn’t give him much time to learn about the modern world. As soon as he came back, Steve had left him and he had to move on without his childhood best friend. It was hard for him to adjust to this century, with the new rules and the whole scene in general, but he seemed to make it through just fine. He’d come to peace with the fact that there was no escaping the fighting at all, falling into a steady routine that became his holy grail. 

In the new Avengers compound in Upstate New York he felt content and more sure of himself than he’d felt in a very long time. Everyone in the tower was quiet and kept to themselves mostly, still dealing with the aftermath of losing so much in so little time. But in that silence Bucky felt like a free man, able to walk around without fear of being hunted down every second and time to really look about this new world.

There were still times when he woke up in a sweaty panic, disoriented and terrified until he realized he was in the safety of his room in the compound. He’d flinch at loud noises in the quiet and his heart would stop, something that went by unnoticed by everyone else, though he didn’t blame them for it. Bucky felt extreme guilt for the horrible things he had done as the Winter Soldier, memories of bloodied and dead bodies, bodies he had made fall to the ground motionless. It wasn’t him, he knew, but his hand still had pulled the trigger. When he found something new a smile would split across his face, ready to tell Steve what he had discovered, until he remembered that the rambunctious blond boy was gone, a wrinkled grey man with a new family in his place. It still hurt him to think that he had left him so easily, with barely a goodbye. Bucky still had days where he felt so incredibly tired, left still on his bed as horrible thoughts ran through his mind, anxious about the future.

But then he found new things everyday, things that seemed to outweigh the bad by a whole lot. He’d found cool ranch Doritos were the best chips and that he really liked the season of fall with the leaves falling around him as he took a serene walk. He found that he really loved Frozen, the songs and Sven the reindeer making him crack a smile every time he watched it. He found that he could sleep in on his days without missions and Wanda liked her pancakes with an unhealthy amount of syrup on the side to dunk them in. He found that Sam was actually really funny, always making the worst puns or the dirtiest jokes at the most inappropriate of times. He found a new sense of respect and warmth in the family they’d built together, learning how to go on without those that they loved. He found that he was really enjoying his new routine and his new sense of peace with himself.

All until she walked in.

Bucky could still remember the exact moment she flipped their world upside down. Sharon had fawned over her, talking about one of her old SHIELD buddies who was finally coming back to the states. After the organization fell in 2014, Y/N L/N fled to Hawaii, running away to the one place she knew no one would find her. She was done fighting, or that’s what she believed until Thanos showed up. 

It was shameful, really, that Y/N was aware of all the problems that went on, yet did nothing to help. They needed her help, she knew they did, but she couldn’t bring yourself to go help her friends. Originally she was trying for a settled down life, planning to retire from the constant fighting, but after a few failed relationships Y/N realized that she wasn't cut out for that white picket fence life. Those had just been the dreams of a fourteen year old Y/N L/N, left empty and hollow by the horrors she had seen during her time at SHIELD. There was nothing left waiting for her, no family, no friends, but she was too stubborn to get back into the fight, so she stayed in her humid Oahu apartment and waited for something interesting to happen.

Well, maybe Y/N shouldn’t have wished so hard, that “interesting thing” showing up in the form of being snapped out of existence by a large, purple grape.

When she came back she felt nearly indifferent, knowing that five years had passed by her, and though Y/N felt nothing but emptiness she knew that it was time to go back. It was her duty when she had joined SHIELD to always be there and protect, and she had failed that job. But Y/N was more than ready to make up for it. Nothing like Thanos could ever happen again, so she called Sharon, one of her closest friends and previous commanding supervisor at the organization. She was ecstatic to have Y/N back, probably a bit too much, and before she could have second thoughts the girl was on a plane overlooking JFK, ready to land in New York.

So when Y/N walked in, with a tight-lipped smile and butterflies anxiously fluttering in her stomach, Bucky couldn’t help but despise her. Maybe he had formed his opinion off of Sharon’s explanation of her past, but Y/N got the life of settling down that he didn’t and he was infuriatingly jealous. 

“Hey, Bucky, Sam, come meet Y/N!” Sharon said excitedly. Her hair was put back in a headband neatly, two suitcases in hand as she looked at the two tall, muscular men. Of course Y/N recognized both of them, she hadn’t been living under a rock. Keeping up with the news of the Avengers and remaining SHIELD officers had been one of the only things keeping her from coming back, hearing of the terrible fights and destruction done to whole cities. She recognized Sam Wilson, the infamous Falcon being marked down as a “war criminal” in 2016. She never believed that crap, if he and half of the other Avengers were locked up there had to be a good reason behind it.

Then, there was James Buchanan Barnes. Now, she knew him from her eighth grade American history books, reading about the brave Howling Commando who had given up his life for saving the country, but Y/N knew him better as the Winter Soldier from her time at SHIELD. The fight in 2014 had been brutal, hectic in all forms, but she’d caught a few glances at the metal-armed man. He hadn't been in his normal state, with being controlled and tortured by HYDRA at the time, but the kid inside of her freaked out, remembering memories of gossiping with her friends about how hot he was in the textbooks and how much of a hero he was. That man was still in there somewhere, hidden by decades of reprogramming and mind-wiping, and Y/N was finally seeing him in the flesh. She would be working with him daily, living in the same space as him. The thought made her giddy like a middle schooler with her first crush,though his presence was intimidating as well.

“Hi there, I’m Y/N L/N, it’s a pleasure to be working with you.” Sticking out her hand, she gave a bright smile, already growing out of her nervous state. 

Sam quickly shook Y/N’s hand, giving a warm greeting in response to her introduction. Then she turned to Bucky. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

His cold, dead glare locked onto Y/N, staring straight through her soul. It felt like he could see every insecurity and guilty action she had, and she didn’t like it one bit. “That’s Sergeant Barnes to you.” Without another word, he walked out of the room like a petulant child, leaving Sharon, Sam, and Y/N flabbergasted. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, he’s usually more friendly than that, I’ll go check in on him,” Sharon furiously said with a painfully fake smile. Sam grabbed the new girl by the arm, linking it with his own and led her in another direction as he explained the usual training routine and schedule for the week. 

And while she was completely enraptured by Sam’s comforting words and the exciting compound, her heart still felt heavy from Sergeant Barnes’ cold greeting. 

-

She had tried to be nice. She really had. But after two months it was pretty clear Sergeant Barnes wasn’t getting any better, and Y/N was beyond pissed off. Childish, is what he was being, fucking childish. 

It started off with leaving every room she came into, blatantly ignoring her presence. When she would say hello every morning he’d grunt or even worse, he wouldn’t answer her at all. Y/N had begged Sharon if she knew why the sergeant was acting up, but she didn’t know either and just asked her to ignore him and his “crappy, old-man behaviour”. Sam wasn’t very helpful to Y/N’s cause either, but he was a great mentor and an even better teacher.

Sharon was really the only person Y/N had in her phone, her parents dead and no boyfriend accounted for. The rest of her family had wanted nothing to do with her when she joined SHIELD, but that was okay with her. She knew what she had gotten herself into, and it was an extreme risk to even be acquaintances with her. But now, living with several others in a compound that seemed so large after the great loss, Y/N became part of their family as well. 

It was nice to have friends again, as years of solitude on an island where she knew nobody had made her nearly desperate for more human interaction than with the teenagers who worked the cash registers at the grocery store. Y/N became an integral part of the Avengers (she could actually say that aloud now), going on missions and kicking ass just like she used to. Of course, Sergeant Barnes’ behaviour in and out of missions stayed the same, but she usually tried her best to not take it to heart and move on. After all, she couldn’t have everyone like her.

But one day they both snapped.

Y/N was sitting with Sharon and Wanda, eating lunch and talking over their most recent mission with them and Barnes in Cairo. It hadn’t been a necessarily bad mission, per se, but she had run back into the building to get Wanda out from under a fallen pillar, which apparently was “severely dangerous”. Looking back, she could see how it was, putting her entire team’s secrecy and mission in volatile danger, but Wanda was like her sister and in Y/N’s heart she knew that she had to. Bucky had had to grab them both, nearly dragging her back to the jet before the building had collapsed. He’d been beyond angry with Y/N for the stupid decision, but when they landed he just huffed and stomped away. The redhead was grateful for her and so was Sharon, but lunch was just for a simple stern talking about mission protocols. 

“Y/N, I know that you’re a fantastic agent and even better friend, but when we’re on missions we need that agent. You can’t let your feelings and outside life get in the way of our objective.” Sharon said in a firm voice. Y/N dropped her head in her hands and rubbed her face tiredly.

“I know, Sharon, I’m sorry, Wanda could’ve probably gotten herself out but I just let my instincts act too fast and ran back in without another thought.” She groaned. “Plus, I just caused more damage than anything else. It won’t happen again, I promise.” Wanda and Sharon nodded in understanding just as the Asshole Supreme walked into the kitchen.

“You talking ‘bout how Y/N fucked up the mission yesterday?” Sergeant Barnes grunted. While Sharon and Wanda gasped in shock, Y/N’s eyes were trained at the plate on the table in front of her, not daring to make a sound. She muttered out a sorry and got up to put her dish in the sink. As long as he was here, he was going to make her life a living hell, and as much as she wanted to lash out, it would be cause for her dismissal from the team. While her old, solitary life was what she had once dreamed of, Y/N now saw her future among these people, this family, somewhere she finally felt a part of despite Barnes’ horrid behaviour. “Sorry?” He scoffed, “Sorry doesn’t make up for the fact that I had to run back in for you. Sorry doesn’t make up for the extreme risks we all pull to save your ass out in the field.”

“Bucky, stop.” Sharon yelled.

But he ignored her words and sauntered over to Y/N with a knowing smirk, leaning down to meet her level. His warm breath hit her face and she could stare into his deep eyes, swirling like a raging storm of blues and greys. “You shouldn’t even be out there, L/N. I mean, you haven’t had training in years, it’s not like you were anything special either. Just another agent, hoping to get to work in the big leagues.”

“Shut up.” Y/N whispered meekly. Tears were just barely being held in, her chest feeling empty and hollow with anger and guilt. Is this what it felt like to want to kill someone with so much vengeance? 

“Where were you when Thanos came? Where were you, L/N? We needed all the help we could get, but there you are, in fucking Hawaii, with you little fucking margaritas on the fucking beach-”

“Shut the fuck up!” She screamed. The room went dead silent with her voice. None of the team had seen Y/N look so angry, so sad, so vulnerable, at one time. It was easy for her to hide her emotions and Wanda refrained from trying to toy with her mind, but shame was overwhelming the girl by the second and Sergeant Barnes was right, as much as she didn’t want to say it. She was a coward, thinking she could run away from the “hero life” so easily. They’d caught her, and Barnes was making her face that truth right now. “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I know, that I was absolutely scared shitless of returning here, facing all of you after what you endured for so long?” 

Y/N took a deep breath, laughing mirthlessly as tears ran hot down her cheeks. “I’m sorry that I came back, I really am, but I’m trying my damn best to make up for what I did. Being scared is no excuse for why I ran away, I was fucking terrified of having one more thing to lose. My family is dead, SHIELD fell, and I had no one to lean on so I ran as far as I fucking could. But I’m back now, I’m ready to serve up to what I left behind, and you better fucking deal with it because this,” she jabbed a finger into his broad chest, “is not fucking it. I’m not going to live with your shitty behaviour anymore, Barnes.”

He, Wanda, and Sharon all watched as she slammed the plate into the sink, storming out of the room. They could hear her door slam shut, and the two women glared at Bucky.

“What the hell is your problem, Barnes” Wanda hissed in a scarily low voice. Fuck. He knew he’d messed up then, gone farther than he ever dared to with insulting Y/N, and both of the women were severely overprotective of the new Avenger. 

Sharon walked up to Bucky with large strides, delivering a slap to the side of his head. Yeah, he definitely deserved that. It was dead silent in the kitchen, the tension still high strung from the fight seconds before. “You better go apologize, Barnes, I swear to God this has gotten far too out of hand. You two have a mission tomorrow, estimated a month, and wheels are up at 2300 hours. I need you two to go get the intel quietly and undetected and we can’t have both of you arguing the whole damn time, so you better fix things by then.”

The blonde agent walked away, Wanda trailing behind her, but not without the middle finger from both of them. A mission? Tomorrow? With Y/N? This was going to be horrible. Bucky ran a hand over his face and trudged off to his room. 

It was going to be a long month.

-

Y/N stared out of the window as they flew over the clouds above the Mediteranean Sea. Eleven in the morning in Italy gave a clear view of the skies, light blue as far as she could see. They were ready to start their descent into Azzano and the woman glanced to the man beside her, his stormy blue eyes glaring in any direction but hers. The sergeant had avoided her all he could up until they boarded the jet, and even then he only spoke to her when necessary. “Hey, Barnes, we’re starting to descend, go get ready.”

The brunette looked over to Y/N and grunted in response. Oh well, it was better than him yelling at her. His little outburst in the kitchen had her pissed at him more than ever, but the words thrown around still rung true in her head. But now wasn’t the time to think about that.

She paid careful attention to where she was supposed to land, a shaded facility almost five miles south of where they had to get the intel from an old, but rebuilt HYDRA base. The same base where James Buchanan Barnes was once held captive, experimented on and tortured until Steve Rogers came to save him. Y/N didn’t care much for Barnes usually, but she also didn’t know how he’d react to being in a location with such horrible memories attached to it. They had both been at the mission briefing the day before of course, he knew what it entailed and he seemed unfazed, and he was always good at hiding his emotions. As the jet touched down finally, the agent thought back. Well, sometimes he was good at hiding his emotions.

Making sure her comm fit snugly in her ear, Y/N unbuckled herself from the seat, heading back towards the wall of weaponry they kept in the back of the jet. Barnes was already there dressed in hs black kevlar tactical suit, hugging his body nicely and vibranium arm on display. When he was around her he tried to hide it, and she saw him joking around and being comfortable in other’s presence with it out, wondering what made her so different. She personally found it fascinating, the beauty of the gold and black metal with the incredible Wakandan technology, but she respected his privacy and tried to not think too much about it. 

Y/N threw a vest on over her own navy blue tac suit, tightening her combat boots before she fully zipped up. Were they finally ready?

Three guns perched in holsters by her waist.

Two taps to her earpiece and Barnes’ breathing in her ear.

One mutual nod with the sergeant himself, and they were off, slowly making their way to grab the intel, not a trace to be left behind. 

-

Getting stuck in the trunk of a car was not in the plan. It definitely wasn’t. Bucky remembered every single inch and cranny of that meticulously planned out schedule, every move, every kill they had to make, but not once was it mentioned that Y/N was to get stuck in Baron Zemo’s car without any weapons on her.

“L/N, what the hell do you mean you’re in the back of Zemo’s car.” He seethed, already searching frantically around the large remains of the building for her. It had gone smoothly, she was just supposed to quickly check inside his car as he searched the base. It’ll be so much quicker if I do it, L/N, is what he had said, but now he regretted it. Like the incompetent fool she was, she was spotted and ended up shooting out half of Zemo’s goonies before dropping all her weapons to the ground and running when she ran out of ammunition.

“There may have been a slight misunderstanding,” Y/N whispered into her comm, “but nothing we can’t fix! Just come find me, Barnes, and all will be well.”

She could hear his angry curses and jostling, which she assumed he was running to come find her. It wasn’t entirely Y/N’s fault she had run out of ammo. Some of it must have fallen from her pockets during the shootout and when she saw the car she thought it’d be the perfect place to hide. Until she realized that no one else was at the partially burned down HYDRA base besides Baron Zemo, the person who Sharon had told her to avoid at all costs, and she was in his damn car. Practically her death note.

“If you had just listened to me you wouldn’t have been caught!” Bucky furiously whispered through the comms. 

Y/N rolled her eyes, though he couldn’t even see her, and groaned. “I did listen to you, Barnes, I checked the damn car, but we weren’t expecting his guards to find me so I killed them and hid. Is that actually so bad?” 

“Yes it is!’ He explained. “Give me your coordinates.” She checked the small watch on her wrist, pushing a button on the side that gave a small holographic image of the time and her coordinates on a world wide map. Reciting them for him, Bucky followed, continuing to berate her as he did so. “And you’re right, L/N, I asked you to check the car, not fucking jump inside it!”

This time Bucky could envision her rolling her eyes as she groaned even louder in very Y/N L/N fashion. “Would you rather I be dead?” She asked. It had been a few seconds, but she still received no response. “Barnes?” Crackling. “Sergeant?” Absolute nothingness. “Sarge?”

The trunk of the car opened as the woman let out a squeak, the broad frame of James Barnes hovering above her, some dirt smudged around the annoyed expression on his face. “Don’t call me that.” He grumbled.

He reached his hand towards her, grasping her own tightly before pulling her to a sitting position. “Why, you had all the ladies calling you that back in the day?” She mimicked a much higher tone, nearly resembling Snow White if the princess were high on drugs and had a Brooklyn accent. “Hey, Sarge, we goin’ dancing? Sarge, you goin’ to give me some sweet lovin’ tonight? Oh, how I’d just love for you to shove your fat, ugly head up your a-”

A loud beeping from his wristwatch cut her off. With a glare, the man let go of Y/N’s hand, checking to see what the problem was. A small red tracker on the map moved, and both of them knew they were in deep shit. “Crap, Zemo’s coming this way. That’s one of the trackers I set up on the ground and we gotta go quick.”

Faint whistling from Baron Zemo made both of them panic as Bucky tackled her back down and quickly shut the door behind him. Footsteps were approaching, the whistling getting louder and a door opening let the two Avengers know that they couldn’t get out anytime soon. Y/N could feel Bucky’s racing heart against her chest, hers beating just as fast. He turned to face her, a lot closer than both of them expected, lips dangerously close and noses nudging against each other. Ther breaths mixed together, the hot air of the car doing nothing to help her current close quarters with the man. 

“Can you bust us out of here?” She whispered hurriedly, rather uncomfortable with the present situation.

“We’ll die if we leave now. He’s much more prepared than we thought and with half his men down he knows something is up. Zemo wasn’t even supposed to know we were here so we’re far too unprepared and you lost your damn weapons. There’s no way we can go out so we’re going to stick in here until he gets out.”

Truth be told, Bucky was terrified and had no clue what to do next. Being stuck in a small confined space with Y/N had to be his worst nightmare, especially after he didn’t apologize for his shitty behavior last night. And the night before. 

And the several months before that.

From his view Y/N seemed to be uncomfortable and as the car started moving, she wiggled around, struggling to get as far away from Bucky as she could. He too was extremely uncomfortable, but as her wriggling continued, his already tight fitting pants seemed to get even impossible tighter as she practically grinded on him. 

“Would you stop squirming around?” Y/N shot him what would’ve been a questioning glance if not for the pitch blackness of the trunk, and heard his loud sigh, warm breath fanning across her face. “I’m sorry, I’m having a situation, uh, down there and your wiggling isn’t helping it too much.”

Her face heated up, not knowing what to feel after he said that. Was he… flustered? Y/N had never seen Bucky Barnes anything less than grumpy or professional before.

When she said nothing, he assumed the worst and thought she saw him as a disgusting and creepy person. Before that moment he’d never had any particular care about how Y/N felt, but he knew that there were still a lot of perverts, if not more perverts than back in his day. With his four little sisters always getting catcalled and the crude men who thought women were their property, Bucky knew it was definitely terrifying to be assaulted or any situation such as this. 

There wasn’t much he could do, but he shifted so they weren’t lying down hip bone to hip bone. “Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, I don’t want you to think I’m a pervert or anything, it’s just been a while since I, well, y’know…”

“I understand, Barnes, but thank you for apologizing.” Y/N said carefully. It was weird to hear the now shy and surprisingly considerate sergeant apologize to her, but she had to admit that her respect for him had gone up. 

He cleared his throat in return, trying to turn in any other direction besides hers as they listened to the tires of the car bumping along the road, heart wildly thumping. 

It was quiet. Far more quiet than it had ever been when either of them were in the same room. As Y/N stared down at Bucky’s head, almost resting on her stomach, she saw the man she’d read about in middle school. For a moment she was able to look past the last few months of fighting and hatred, and see the noble sergeant she’d admired for so long. 

“You can rest your head if you want to, I knew keeping it up like that must be hurting your neck. I promise I’m okay with it.” She reassured him. With a small hesitation, Barnes submitted to his screaming neck muscles and laid his head on her stomach, the vest providing cushion. A few more seconds of silence and gathering courage, and she finally asked him the question she had been wondering since her first day at the compound. “Why do you hate me?”

I’m jealous, he wanted to say, but he wasn’t brave enough to say it. With a small sigh, he managed to get out, “I don’t.”

“Then why are you so cold to me all the time?” Emotions that were borrowed so deep inside Y/N’s chest seemed to come barreling out, seeping into every question that she asked. “Am I really that horrible an agent? Do you not think I’m trying my best? I know I made a mistake, I wasn’t there when you all needed me, but I’m trying so, so damn hard to make up for it. I swear on my life, and every one that comes after it, that I’m-”

“It’s not you, it’s me, God damn it!” Bucky exclaimed angrily. Both of their blood ran cold in fear that Zemo might have heard them, but the radio continued to drone on in the background, nothing seeming to have changed. He took a deep sigh and tried how to best explain it to her. Even though he’d probably never have Y/N’s forgiveness for insulting her so plainly and hurting her so much, he felt as though she deserved as much as his reasoning as to why he “disliked” her so much. It was difficult for him to say, having to also put his pride away for once to just admit it. “I’m jealous of you, Y/N. You got the sweet life for a while, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. When you look at us who remain, not a single one of us was planning to be an Avenger. You were getting the dream home, the kids, the family that I’ve wanted since I was a boy back in Brooklyn, and all you had to do to get it was run away. It was so simple.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, not at all expecting that. “It wasn’t all too much ‘sweet life’, you know? It was my dream when I was younger, I thought being an agent was temporary and then I’d move into a big, old house with a loving spouse and have millions of little carbon copies of myself to occupy my days. But the truth about what we do is that we can only stay away from it for so long, Barnes. With people like us,” she squeezed her eyes shut, letting the final tears roll down her cheeks, “there’s no running away from the hero's life. It's just who we are. We’ve already done too much to change that part of our lives.” 

Y/N felt him nod through the fabric on her skin, sniffles letting her know that he was crying too. They were connected. All the shouting, all the yelling, the pain, the battles, the fore, the blood, the years of torture, all led to this moment. This historic moment in Y/N and Bucky’s relationship where they both waved white flags, wet faces and hearts filled with sorrow for the life they never had. 

“I’m so sorry for the way I dealt with my anger and jealousy, Y/N.” Bucky croaked. 

“I used to idolize you when I was a kid.” Y/N recalled with a faint smile on her face. “In the eighth grade I wrote a history paper on you, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, American hero and inspiration to all. And you know, I always kinda had a crush on you. Wondered what it would be like if you were still alive, if you would’ve gone home after the war, if you would’ve had a family. No matter what wild thoughts ran through my head, though, you were always my hero.” Bucky took her confession in shock, pure amazement and surprise coursing through his body. Maybe a little bit of sadness, longing for that old life, maybe a bit of bashfulness of her having a crush on his as a schoolgirl. “And then I met you and you were this grumpy, irritable old man who seemed to despise me as soon as I walked in the door. Definitely not what I had expected.” He opened his mouth, ready to apologize again, when her next words cut him off. “I want to start over, don’t you?”

How was she so calming? Her words were exactly what he needed to hear and didn’t need to at the same time. Her voice brought back all the old memories of running around New York with Steve as a kid, reminding him of his wise ma in a way. “There’s nothing I’d like more than that, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled to herself, looking towards the top of the car. “Perfect.”

And with the twinkle in her eye and his head resting on her stomach with a small grin, it really was.

#James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #buckybarnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #james barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #angrybirdcr200challenge #marvel #marvel fanfiction #Avengers #Avenger #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #readerinsert #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastianstan #Sebastian Stan #sebstan

[bush-viper-cutie]

Needed Words

(Part 2 of A Warm Kiss)

Pairing: young!severus X fem!reader

Word Count: 2,283

Rating: T for Teen

Plot: After what happened after Slughorn’s party last night with the dreamy and reserved Severus Snape, you’re eager to see him again. Severus is eager to see you too and quickly lets you get carried away with him in the back of the library.

Warnings: only a bit steamy

A/N: Continuation to A Warm Kiss (requested by someone on AO3) so here it is :D A little shorter than the first one but just as cute and sweet :D hope u guys enjoy

Posted: 7/27/20

Masterlist

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You hummed to yourself, running your finger along you lips as the memories from last night played in your mind. You couldn’t remember Severus’ exact smell, but you could recall perfectly how it tugged at your heart making you inch closer to him as if totally and completely hypnotized. You had been drawn in like a bee to a flower, powerless to his aroma, and had let yourself get completely consumed.

You giggled quietly and opened the door to the library, determined to wait for him all day, hoping to relive the best part of last night; his sweet kisses and warm lips. The library was comepletely empty, unlike how it normally was during term. Most of the school was home for the holidays and of those who remained, most were spending their free time forgetting the library even existed.

The back of the library contained most of the books you were reading now adays, things far more advanced than what most of your classmates were learning. There were two torches on either side of the sections giving the area a warm glow and a cozy feel. You picked out a book and leaned against the shelves, but your eyes could not focus on the words.

Would Severus show up? Surely, he felt as strongly for you as you felt for him after last night. It was magical and intoxicating, and every light and timid touch from his fingers had made you want to melt on the spot. Last night you couldn’t sleep and spent hours in bed with your eyes closed trying to grasp at the fleeting feelings of his firm but gentle hands pulling you in. He must feel as strongly as you if his deep hums of encouragement were anything to go off of.

You zoned back into the quiet world of the library and turned the page in your book. There was water damage and a large droplet of dried ink as black as Severus’ hair and eyes. Everything seemed too distracting when you were waiting for the boy who had captured your heart to show up… If he ever did.

You slipped an elastic band off your wrist and put your hair up in a bun, straining your ears for the sound of the library door opening. So far it was just you inside. You sighed, put the book away, and headed deeper into the back, turning to look at the next section of books.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw a figure slinking away in the shadows around the corner, desperately trying to escape your notice. You tilted your head and turned towards the tall and slim figure half-shielded by the end of the bookcase. You walked towards the figure and saw his shoulders sink as he heard your approaching footsteps.

Severus turned and leaned out from behind the corner. “Hello,” he gave a meek smile.

Your heart instantly melted and if you had allowed yourself to focus too long on his shy smile the strange encounter would have gone over your head. “Are… you hiding from me?”

He shook his head, his hair swaying gently from side to side, and then paused seeing you were still searching for an answer. “I was… I was going to come out soon.”

You pressed the back of your hand to your mouth and suppressed a laugh. He looked cute trying to come up with a convincing excuse. “Why would you hide where I told you I’d be?” Your laugh escaped, “It’s not a very good hiding place.”

He stepped out to face you and folded his arms over his chest defensively, “I was just reading before you got here. I wasn’t hiding. Why would I hide.”

You shrugged and inched closer, poking at some dusty book spines about transfigurations. “I don’t know.” You pulled out a book from beside his head and looked at it intrigued. You hoped he liked games as much as you, because this was not a subject you’d drop until he came clean. “What book were you reading?”

His eyes darted around and jerked his chin towards the opposite shelf, “‘A History of Ancient Curses’.”

You looked over and saw a glossy book but the title was hardly legible. His response was fast and didn’t seem rehearsed. Maybe he really was reading before you got here... but his fidgeting fingers that pulled the loose string of his sweatshirt told u otherwise. You nodded acceptingly and put your book back, tugging out the book he named. “What page?” Your eyebrow arched and a small smile curled your mouth.

He looked down at the golden rimmed pages and chewed on his bottom lip. “Three sixty… five,” his confidence wavered.

You flipped to the page and snorted, “Oh? Very interesting subject matter.” You pretending to read the page with a few muffled giggles and looked up at him.

His cheeks flushed and he ripped the book from your hands, scanning the page quickly before grumbling something to himself, “I thought it said something really embarrassing.”

Your smile widened, knowing you had won. “Nope. Something about mummy beds. I was almost convinced, actually.”

He rolled his eyes. “You didn’t prove anything.” His fingers were no longer fidgeting, and a tiny crooked smile disturbed his reserved appearance.

“If you say so,” you shrugged and pulled your band off your hair, letting it swing down to your shoulders. Your cheeks turned light pink as his gaze followed your hair and drifted to your lips. “What other books do you like reading? So far I know you like going over the potions textbook and reading about ancient curses.”

He shrugged and pointed into the restricted section, “Some dark arts stuff.” His posture stiffened as was a normal reaction when anyone at school mentioned liking the dark arts. He studied your face for any reactions. “I only study it.”

You nodded. Your mind was stuck on his previous reaction to letting your hair loose. He had looked at your lips. Wanting to kiss? How could you go about encouraging his mind to wander there? If there was anything you wanted to do in the dim and secluded library, it was run your fingers through his thick hair, tugging at it as your tongue explored his mouth. “I like dark arts too,” you unhooked the chain between the two bookshelves that worked as a somewhat gate to the restricted section. “Show me what books you read?”

He looked around for the librarian and smiled, cheerfully surprised at your open admission to liking such a forbidden subject. “Sure.”

The passages between the bookcases were tighter, forcing you closer to him when looking through book titles. You closed your eyes and focused on the familiar scent of his. He smelled of steamed petals. You opened your eyes and watched him pressed his curled index finger to his lips as he searched, biting down on it gently.

He glanced down every few seconds to see you looking up at him. “I’m allowed only these,” he tapped three different books. “Just some advanced nonverbal spells basically,” he whispered, forcing you closer.

You unlocked your eyes from his and looked up at the books. You kept your feet planted and stretched up to reach for one of them, feeling your shirt under your sweater untuck and your side become exposed. You pulled it the thin book down and looked up at Severus, seeing his eyes dart back up to your eyes. “That’s really cool,” you whispered back.

He stepped forward, forcing you up against the bookcase, as his arm reached up to pull another book down. He kept his eyes trained on yours and silently brought it down. “This one is better.” He had you trapped between the bookshelves and his body.

You forced a breath out as the air around got hot very suddenly. He was very intense, just like he had been last night, except this time it wasn’t out of anger. What could you respond with? What was your plan? Everything you wanted to do now was kiss him again… but this wasn’t the dark dungeons in the middle of the night. It was the library in the middle of the day. The game… you were still playing a game with him. A much needed distraction. “What were you really doing, before I spotted you?”

Your question took him aback and made him frown, thinking he had read your signals wrong. “I was practicing what to say to you…” He pushed the books back on the shelf and stayed close, still hoping for something to happen. He looked around and breathed out, making a risky attempt at starting what he hoped you wanted from him. “Last night…” his words faltered but the feel of his slim fingers gently brushing up your arm expressed everything he intended them to.

You looked up into his eyes and touched his soft sweater, smoothly sliding your hand up to around his neck and pulled him in. It was the restricted section, after all. No one was allowed here so no one would be around to see anything. Your eyes closed and you could feel his hot breath mixing with yours for just a second before he closed his eyes and your lips met his.

You felt instantly connected again as hot electricity tingled everywhere your skin touched his. Your other hand wrapped around his waist and slid up his back as your other caressed his cheek. His hands moved to your neck and back, pressing you closer together. Your lips parted with his and you could feel the tension growing, the need to get closer grew with the intensity of his moans and your eager hums. He stepped closer, bending his neck down to you and pressed in.

He moaned and pushed forward, bumping the bookcase so hard it shook. His kisses turned sloppy as he began moving across your jaw and down your neck, sucking on your skin with desperation. His arms trapped you in place, shielding you from view as much as possible. The hand on his back slid to his chest and began trailed down his torso to his belt and further still until you reached the spot that made him whimper in your ear.

Your eyes fluttered open and you couldn’t help but moan back, “You’re so hot.”

The gentle sucking on your exposed neck stopped. He brushed his lips on your skin and pulled back. His eyes were cast down, taking in your form as his hand trailed down your arm. “Don’t say it unless you mean it.”

You scanned his eyes and saw the deep sadness looming just behind his entrancing eyes. You knew why he said it. It was the same sadness that had crushed him at the party last night and torn his heart in two. “Severus. I meant it.”

He chuckled and stepped back, “You called me cute yesterday and I can hardly believe that. I’m not either of those things. You can’t really think that, so just don’t say it. It’s a lie.” He stepped forward and placed his hands back on your hip, intending to continue the interrupted passionate embrace. His eyes glistened and when he blinked they were distant once more.

“But I do, think you’re cute. And hot.” You pushed him back and touched his sweater with the very tips of your index and middle finger, walking them up his chest to rest flat as you pushed forward and backed him onto the opposite bookcase. “I’ll show you.”

His hands gripped the shelf as he rolled his head back and looked down at you over his nose. He closed his eyes and bit his lips again as your lips neared his neck. He was tall, but his jaw and neck were still the perfect height to worship with kisses. His neck was exposed and pale, and as you sucked and kissed his warming skin a pale pink emerged.

“You really like me?” he whispered.

You smiled and planted more deliberate kisses. He hummed and slid down, putting his face at the perfect height to kiss. His eyes begged for the continued kindness your mouth was providing. You kissed him long and hard, a lot more romantic and slow than any kiss you had shared earlier and the night before. It felt different, like savoring sticky sweet honey or the first taste of a warm winter drink sliding down your throat.

You paused the kiss. “I was thinking of you all last night, Severus.” His hair had fallen over his left eye and you pulled it back around his ear. “You’re the dreamiest guy I’ve ever met. Your kisses are to die for, and your voice is absolutely heavenly.”

He stared at you long and hard with intensity, determined to uncover any hidden truth from behind your eyes. His dark eyes softened and he hugged you suddenly, holding you tight as the top of his head pushed up against your cheek. He pulled his knees in to straighten himself and wrapped his arms farther around you like a tightening python over your rib cage.

“Sorry,” he let go, showing a wide grin. “No one’s ever said any of that about me. I…” he shook his head, “I just feel really happy… You swear you’re not just saying that? You mean it?”

You giggled and slid your hand in his and rested your head on his shoulder. “I swear I mean it. Really.”

His hand slid down your hair and he whispered quietly, “No one’s ever said that about me.”

“I’ll gladly keep saying it.”

He nodded and sniffed, holding you closer. “Please,” his voice trembled.

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Masterlist

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