#just. Bless This Mess is a disaster of a series and there are way the fuck too many things going on

[raetttriestowrite]

Me, an author, side eyeing my WIP: you're not going to do anything weird, are you? We've discussed this. There's a plan. We're going to stick to the plan, aren't we?

The WIP: *presents subplot, presents additional conflicts, presents character development, laughs in my fucking face*

#raetttriestowrite #fanfiction #writer problems #raett rants about writing #look honestly it's not that bad but it's relatable #so feel free to reblog #just. Bless This Mess is a disaster of a series and there are way the fuck too many things going on #and i'm staring at the word count of the next part #and am really hoping that isn't an indicator of how long this is gonna be #but don't hold your breath #i am very very slow. and i'm not that far through the plot. and it's uh. 3.5k #so. this may take a while. hopefully not six months but we'll see #considering i'm fully expecting to be laughed at by my plan as per the post

[everythingne]

you have me and I have you -- DR3

Taking the twins to meet Daniel at a race nearly ends in disaster for the youngest, luckily you remember a little saying that goes a long way for when her emotions get too big for her all weekend away from her favorite person on the planet.

daniel ricciardo x wife!mother!reader

warnings/notes: probably inaccurate f1 information (specifically with where they live but idc its my fic), i'm not going off any actual timeline of real events dude this is just vibes, maxiel content bursting out of this fic, might make this little family a series i dunno, i don't have the most knowledge of daniel's career so mind some gaps

--

You and Daniel lived an exceptionally private life--surprisingly. Alpha Tauri's home base was in Faenza, Italy. And when Daniel was announced to be driving for them, you both tossed around a few different city names until Max of all people found you both a quaint little house just outside of the main touristy parts of Ravenna.

Somehow the world champion knew the both of you would find it was a perfect spot to nestle in for the time being. You knew that once the girls really got into school, like proper schooling, you'd have to settle them near Daniel's family. That's what you'd agreed to do when you planned to return to teaching full-time, but for now, Ravenna worked beautifully.

And it was beautiful too.

You had moved and traveled a lot with Daniel due to his career, it had never bothered you in the near decade the both of you had been together. The two of you never fought, sure you argued, but nothing hateful. It was usually a 'stop overthinking this' or 'stop overworking yourself on that' and with two perfectionists who adored their careers and families it could get a bit tense. But, you loved Daniel more than anything, and he loved you just the same. So it always worked out in the end.

Three years dating, one year engaged, seven years married, five years parents. Parents. Two beautiful twin daughters, you hadn't not been trying for kids, and though the girls were a surprise, they were happily welcomed by the Ricciardo's and your family when announced. And of course their loads of F1 uncles, like Max, Yuki, Lando, and of course Pop Pop and Grannie Horner, who had just about died when the youngest of the two twins--Rosella, called them that without you or Daniel prompting her to.

"She speaks the truth!" Daniel had laughed when Geri scooped the little girl up in her arms and squeezed her, kissing her forehead. Max had just laughed for like ten minutes at Christian's face before the man finally made some remark that he was "finally old enough for that title."

And then a few months later little Penelope would do the same, with a quite similar reaction.

Life in Ravenna was perfect, and you had been blessed with a remote job that allowed you to work anywhere making your life a breeze of constant travel, love, and spending nights alongside your husband or his family and friends in lavish hotels for grand prix.

Speaking of Grand Prix, it was time to get the girls moving. The two of them, Rosella Grace Ricciardo and Sienna Michelle Ricciardo, are currently settled with their suitcases beside them in the living room as you finish unplugging the necessary items and locking up the house. Rosella was playing with her stuffed bear, idly singing some song her grandparents had been trying to teach her, and Sienna was currently trying to repack her bag that you had so meticulously put together.

"Si, stop messing with your bag, sweetheart." You try to not let any annoyance sink into your tone but fail a little as you make your way to the foyer.

"Sorry, Momma." Sienna pouts and hides in on herself, her big brown eyes and bouncy curls making you think of her father--who was currently in a car going god knows how fast on the track. Max had been the one to invite you to Miami, saying it would be good to get the girls there to surprise Daniel.

What he hadn't thought of was how hard it is to get two twins through the airport, who look exactly like Daniel Ricciardo, without raising any eyebrows because this was their first appearance at the track since they were toddlers and didn't look like much of anyone except for having Daniel's undoubtedly huge smiles.

"Hey," you say, but don't explain the sentence that brings both of your daughters immediate calm, "You have me and I have you."

The sentence, something from the night before you married the girl's father basically equated to 'we've got this, don't freak out, I'm not mad and you're gonna be fine.' and whatever else it needed to at the moment and it had been a constant in the past seven or so years of your life.

And Sienna calms herself immediately, nodding at you.

You peck a kiss to Sienna's hairline as you repack her bag, "All better, nothing to be sad about, okay?"

She nods, taking her bag and helping her sister grab her stuff as you get them out to the car. The two are pretty well-behaved by now and have learned when to do as you ask and when it's okay to play around a little. You thank Daniel for that, he'd always set a good example. Once everything is in the trunk, you secure the girls in their seats and then thank one of the women you'd become close with down the road for driving you to the airport.

Natalie grins, patting your shoulder as you settle in with a big huff, "I just wish you luck getting them through the airport by yourself! Usually, you have Michelle with you."

"Well, Michelle's unable to come to Miami because she's working, so it's just me this time!" You try to hide your annoyance at the whole situation already, but Natalie just laughs as she starts to drive through the streets of your beloved town.

"Don't stress it, those girls are too well-mannered to cause a fuss."

"I hope so." You sigh, glancing over your shoulder at the both of them.

--

The airport in Italy is a breeze, it's the Miami airport that gives you trouble with the girls because one file isn't filled out correctly. One fucking file. You end up leaving poor Geri Halliwell in the pick-up lane for like an hour while you scramble to fix it so you're not shipped off back home with the girls, who are tired and miserable and just wanna go to bed.

And you'd run out of snacks on the plane, which was another level of catastrophe as Rosella complains every two seconds she's starving and going to die while Sienna complains her feet hurt and makes you carry her around.

Luckily, the airport staff seems to take a bit of pity on you and push you through as quick as possible. You stumble out to the pick-up line to find your ride, the warm Miami air making the girls want to play a bit. Setting down Sienna you make both girls keep one hand on your suitcase as you meet Geri halfway to the car and she kneels down to give the twins hugs as they scream her name.

"So much for discreet." You huff, watching Geri happily interact with the girls. And you learn right then that she's always planning ahead (maybe it's the whole having four kids thing) as she pulls out two little baggies of packed snacks for the girls from her coat.

Once the girls spot Christian, it's game over as they sprint with their little suitcases bouncing behind them and he barely has time to kneel before they're trying to hug him.

"Lookin' good Mama," Geri grins as she picks up Sienna's discarded backpack and you laugh off the compliment as she stands, placing her hands on her hips, "I'll take it they missed us?"

"They wouldn't shut up about getting to see you guys all week after Danny left," You let her pull you into a hug as she kissed your hairline. She helps you get the girl's stuff in the car while Christian entertains the two who sit in the back seat and you end up between your daughters on the drive to the hotel.

"We rented you a room on another floor just for tonight, we figured you'd wanna surprise Danny at the race." Geri turns to talk to you as Christian drives and you nod, leaning forward so she can sit straight. Sienna's babbling to Christian about class, Rosella trying to butt in to get his attention too, and you lean your head on Geri's seat.

"Thank you guys, I'm serious when I say I'll pay you back."

"It came out of Oracle Red Bull Racing's pocket, not mine." Geri holds her hands up and you let out a soft laugh, finally feeling the weariness of the nearly twelve-hour flight.

When you make it to the hotel, Christian goes first to ensure the coast is clear, and you find they've already checked into the room so you're able to go straight up. Once inside, you thank the Horners one more time with tight hugs and a promise to bring them around to Italy soon before shutting the door.

"Momma!" Rosella whines as soon as the door is locked and dead-bolted shut, "I'm tired!"

"Me too!" Sienna copies her twin and flops on the floor and you laugh.

"Let's get you two ready for bed, yeah?" You muse, grabbing the suitcases and flipping them open, and letting the girls pick out the pajamas while you do the same with some loungewear. It's only around five at night, and you do still need to feed the girls a proper dinner, so you assume a short nap with a break for chicken nuggets before bed will be perfect.

--

You rouse from sleep to two sets of little hands hitting you, the girls giggling as they whisper, "Momma, momma!"

"Mhmn," You groan, rubbing your face, "Yeah?"

"Daddy called you, Rosella answered it like a big girl!"

"Mhm!" Rosella cheers, leaning to not-so-secretly whisper, "I didn't even tell him the big secret!"

"That's great--" You go to say sleepily and then you blink your eyes open when you hear Danny laughing over the phone and you sit up to your elbows and snag the phone from her.

"Both of you, shoo." You wave a hand and the girls shriek as you curl your fingers like you're going to tickle them and then sit up in bed.

"I swear I set an alarm." You laugh, rubbing your eyes as you check the clock--in Italy, it would be noon right now which would be typical for your afternoon nap with the girls.

"No big deal. I just wanted to call you when I was getting up for race day." Daniel yawns and you can imagine him rubbing at his face as he lets out a muffled groan over the phone, "How are you and the girls?"

"They're having a blast but being little tornadoes," You huff, "but I'm managing."

"Ah, that's my girl. Superstar mom." You can physically hear Danny's smile in his voice and it makes you laugh, when you ask him how he's doing he regales practice and qualifiers as you get yourself out of bed and grab the girls a change of clothes. Mouthing for them to get in the shower as you mute the phone so Danny doesn't hear the water as you turn it on. Walking back to supervise from the doorway you pop in a few questions here and there.

By the time the call is wrapping up, Sienna's gotten soap in her eyes, so you bid Daniel a quick goodbye as you scold Rosella for splashing her sister in the face and end the call. You double-check to make sure it's actually ended before you move into the bathroom.

It takes an hour for you to get ready, which means by the time you're bringing the girls down to meet with Geri, her kids, and Kelly and Penelope, all the drivers are making their way to the track.

But, of course, you have to run into Charles in the elevator.

"Didn't know you were gonna make it this weekend," Charles says as you step in, the girls shy away from him a little, especially Sienna who practically buries herself behind her sister. You laugh softly.

"Guys, it's just Charles." You say over your shoulder and they both peek up again before gasping and jumping over to hug him. He kneels down to the girls, accepting both of their tight hugs as you speak,

"We weren't until Max told me he got us paddock passes,"

"They're still that close, huh?" Charles stands once the girls release him and you shrug,

"I think Max feels bad for how it ended with them in Red Bull, kinda like how Lando and Daniel are still super close after McLaren because of--God, don't get me started actually." You pinch your nose, the wound of McLaren's drop of Daniel had been the most difficult part of your partnership with Daniel thus far. You hoped it stayed that way.

"I'm glad they're still close." Charles smiles and then bids you goodbye as a Ferrari employee starts scolding him in French--or Italian, or maybe both, as she drags him off in the opposite direction.

You cart the twins off to the little restaurant within the hotel, thanking the hostess who brings you to Geri and Kelly's table and you greet them with a happy smile. Once the kids are all introduced and settled, you relax and roll out your neck.

"I am exhausted." You announce and Kelly pushes a mimosa towards you, grinning, and you happily take it. Breakfast goes relatively well, Penelope wants to sit in your lap halfway through because she missed you, and Bluebell updates you on her applications for university.

The Halliwell-Horner kids are a mess of different parents, but all act just as loving as your own twins, it makes you smile as you notice Bluebell pause mid-sentence to make sure her sister ordered her food correctly and her brother has enough to drink when the waitress comes around to check on you all.

And then Sienna gasps and points at the TV, squealing at an ear-piercing decibel, "Dad!"

"Shh!" You hush her, both Kelly and Geri laughing as you try and handle the two kids who are excitedly pointing out their father on the TV. It's interviews from yesterday on replay in preparation for the race later. And the twins won't stop even with you, Geri, Kelly, and the other kids at the table (save for Geri's youngest) trying to hush them.

"Girls. Knock it off or we're going outside!" You hiss through your teeth, pointing at the two next to you, and Rosella literally screams 'no' at you.

"Good grief." You sigh, then grab her by the waist and wave for her sister to follow you. While Sienna's a little hesitant, a gentle tap from Geri makes the girl scoot off her chair and follow you and a screeching Rosella out of the small restaurant. The three of you settle on the floor as you try to calm a clearly upset Rosella, who curls into your side.

"C'mere, Si." You hold an arm out as you sit on the floor and Sienna curls into your other side. You wipe the frustrated tears off Rosella's face, she had always been attached to Daniel by the hip, you weren't sure why you assumed this would be easier for her than her sister.

"I know you guys are excited to see your dad, I know, I am too." You say to the two twins who sit in your lap on the floor in probably the nicest hotel in Miami, "I miss him just as much as you guys do but... we have to be quiet in restaurants. We can't start screaming like we're at home, okay?"

"Momma, 'm sorry Momma." Rosella sniffles and you pepper soft kisses to her hairline and wipe the tears from her face as Sienna gives her twin a hug.

"It's okay, darling, you know you have me and I have you, yeah? You just have big emotions you wanna get out, but we have to remember inside voices and that there's always a time and place for everything, okay?" You rub her back as she hiccups, big tears rolling down her face as she starts calming down with big gasps.

The girl nods, scrubbing at her face and you give her a little kiss on the top of her forehead before giving Sienna a kiss there too.

"Are we calm enough to talk now, Ella?" You say softly and the girl nods, you scoop her up and bring Sienna back in so she can sit at the table and eat, informing Geri and Kelly you'll be right back after you take Rosella on a little calm down walk.

And you end up in a little courtyard, bouncing Ella on your hip as she speaks softly as you pause at a fountain.

"And Daddy's always there when I'm sad." She recounts as she hiccups, still crying a little as you rock her and rub her back, "and I got sad he wasn't there, and then he wasn't there to make me happy, and it made me more sad."

"Oh honey, it's okay." You look over your shoulder, swearing for the third time you're seeing Lando out of the corner of your eye--which is impossible because he's at the track and you're just being paranoid.

"Big emotions come out sometimes, it's happened to me. When your dad and I got married, I freaked out on him the night before because I was so stressed something would go wrong. I screamed at him, like a full freakout," You sigh, pressing your lips to your daughter's hair before whispering, "You know what he did?"

"What did he do?" Rosella sits back so she can look you in the eyes, you bounce her up and readjust your grip.

"He held me like I'm holding you now and he said 'I know you've got big emotions and so do I, but you know what we also both have?'" You remember the way he'd pressed his lips to your hairline, hands tucking you into his body as he cradled you in the bathroom of the wedding suite in the hotel,

"And I said 'no' because I was having big emotions, and he said 'You have me and I have you.' Just like right now, Ella, you have me and I have you."

"Oh! That's why you and Daddy say that." Ella smiles, kicking one of her feet a little and you nod. She wipes the last of the tears from her eyes and you kiss her cheek, before walking back to the restaurant when she claims she's finally calm enough to eat and be a little quieter.

--

About ten thousand things are happening in the Alpha Tauri garage when you sneak in with Yuki's help. You see Daniel off to the side, talking with some engineers with a stressed expression, and instead of walking over to wrap your arms around him like you want to-- you cart the twins off to his driver's room and settle them in there.

"Should I get him?" Yuki asks once he's finally gotten Sienna to pry off his leg and you laugh, shaking your head.

"Surprise, remember?" You speak softly, hushing the giglging twins.

"Yeah, but he's..." Yuki makes a face and you roll the idea around in your head. The girls had never seen Daniel frustrated, any sort of negative emotions you and Daniel tried to keep away from them.

"How bad?" You ask, mouthing one to ten, and Yuki mouths back a solid nine. So you groan, dragging your hands down your face and holding up a hand for him to wait while you kneel down and wave the girls over.

"Listen, Ella, Si." You poke their arms playfully as they quiet down their giggles when you slowly lower your hands to the floor, "Quiet time, okay? Momma's gonna go out and see where Daddy is, and I might bring him back here, okay?"

The girls nod and you kiss both of their foreheads before leaving the driver's room with Yuki and speaking softly, "I'll come with you."

He nods and waves you along, making his way through the back hall and back into the main area of the garage where Daniel was standing with his back to you. Mouthing good luck, Yuki slips off to stand beside Daniel as they talk racing stats. You just stand for a while, watching your husband as he clearly fusses over some fudging of numbers and how the team seems to be running whatever tactic on a sort of hail-mary moment. You know he hates leaving it up to fate.

"Okay, well," Daniel groans, clearly wanting to change strategy but knowing he's unable to do so, "I don't even know."

Yuki suggests something, but it gets shot down, and then you slowly start to inch forward. You see the videographers and photographers readying themselves for the moments, cameras lifting up high as they wait for the moment or whatever line will come out of your mouth.

"This is literally just as frustrating as getting the twins to relax on a plane," Daniel complains, Yuki smirking and biting the inside of his cheek as you finally cross the room to stand behind your husband.

"I dunno, I did pretty well--"

"--Holy shit!" Daniel shouts, barreling himself into you as he sweeps you off your feet in a loud laugh, "Oh my god! Hello! What?! When did you get here?!"

He sets you down after a tiny spin and presses a long kiss to your lips before you can explain, his hands firm on your hips and your arms tossed around his neck, just like puzzle pieces.

"Max got me passes, we got in last night. Blame the entirety of Red Bull." You wave a hand and Daniel kisses you once more, arms now wrapping around you.

"Okay, fuck strategy for a moment, I need this." He says to the Alpha Tauri team who wave him off and laugh, and you let Daniel just bury his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in the way too expensive Dior perfume he'd bought you for your birthday, and sigh out his stress.

"You have me and I have you." You murmur to him, pressing your lips to the side of his head, since it's all you can reach at this angle, a very similar angle to which his mini-me had been held in only a few hours prior.

"I know." He steps back, then blinks at you, "Wait. The twins are here too aren't they?"

"How the fuck--"

"You aren't wearing your necklace you always wear when you have someone babysit them for the weekend." He pokes the necklace you are wearing, one of your last names written in one of the prettiest fonts you'd ever seen, the gold blackened and dirty from its constant wear. A wedding gift from his mother.

"You little shit." You whisper, before turning and shouting, "Ella! Si!"

And it's like they were waiting for it because the sound of the door slamming against the wall followed by the patter of small sneakers sounds through the garage as the twins sprint to find you and their father. Their joyful screams overlap as Daniel drops to one knee to scoop both girls in his arms, fawning over their matching sundresses (custom-made to be the same color as his racing suit, as is the dress you wear) as he lifts them up to your height.

"Look at my girls." Daniel smiles, letting the twins babble on about whatever as he turns to press a kiss to your cheek, "Thank you."

"Thank Max." You step up to take Sienna from his arms so he can easily hold Rosella, but the arm you've freed snags you by the hip and pulls you close.

"There we go!" He grins at you, "All three of my girls in one place, yeah?"

And it's perfect, a little slotted puzzle piece, and regardless of if they figure out whatever issues are going on with the car you know Daniel will be loving every minute of Miami this year. Just because the three of you are there as his backbone.

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fanfic #dr3 x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x female reader #daniel ricciardo fic

[barelysanereviews]

2022 Midyear Faves

Shaniqua

To say that 2022 has been tough on me is an understatement. It felt like a putting out a series of wildfires, each one springing to life immediately after the last one died, wreaking havoc on my health (physical and mental), self-esteem, relationships, and finances in turn. But in the middle of that mess, I managed to find some shining lights in the darkness to keep me, as we like to say, barely sane.

(Side note: I recently went through our archives on a whim, and can you believe BSR started in May 2014??? What a ride it has been.)

Music:

We've already revealed ourselves to be kpop fans, so there's no point hiding it now. Unfortunately, kpop was one of the major natural disasters in my life this year as my favorite group disbanded around my birthday. Maybe I'll finally post my kpop journey on here as a tribute to them, but in the meantime, here are the songs I've clung onto to fill the void.

fromis_9 - DM

I've managed to chop up this song into bits that basically narrate my life, from the opening soliloquy "Hey you, 지금 뭐해?", to the very cathartic "Doesn't matter~~~!" every chorus, to the release of energy in that whistle note towards the end. It's just an oddly comforting bop that I keep coming back to, and I'm happy to say that I fell in love with the girls' discography in the process. Stream Stay This Way!

(G)I-DLE - Tomboy

I've followed Soyeon since Produce 101 (the curse/blessing that got me into kpop) and have stanned (G)I-DLE since their debut. I gotta say - Tomboy is a masterpiece. The way they came back with a shot heard around the world after losing a member and a year of solo activities is the cheffiest kiss. (6)I-DLE forever.

Honorable Mentions: VIVIZ - Loveade; Le Sserafim - Fearless; Taeyeon - INVU; and of course, NU'EST - Again

Film:

Love and Leashes (2022)

Though I watched last year's Let Me Be Your Knight for my bias, my favorite discovery of 2021 was Lee Junyoung. His character Taein was so endearing and charming, but a bit too similar to his previous roles. When I heard he was going to star alongside SNSD's Seohyun in a movie about BDSM, I had no idea what to expect. What I got instead was a weirdly sweet and loving film about two people learning to trust each other as they navigate their own preferences and desires. So excited for what he's going to do next, with or without barking.

Honorable Mentions: Turning Red, Minari

TV:

Do we still call it TV if we don't watch it on a TV?

Strangers From Hell

I actually watched more kdramas this year than I usually do to fill the void that Nu'est left behind, so I got to watch some of the more popular ones as they aired. But what can I say, I'll always be a sucker for a good dark kdrama. This one features one of my faves, Im Siwan, as he slowly goes insane from living in a rundown goshiwon whose inhabitants may or may not be murderers.

Pretty Proofreader

One thing I love about jdramas is that they can make anything - from an underrated sport to an overlooked profession - sound rewarding and exciting, and this charming little story about a wannabe fashion editor who gets assigned to the proofreading department of her favorite magazine is no different. As a fellow optimist, I felt so represented by Etsuko. Satomi Ishihara's extra outfits paired with her uplifting smile got me through Covid.

Honorable Mentions: My Liberation Notes, A Business Proposal, Spy x Family, Alchemy of Souls (ongoing)

Colleen

I watched a lot of TV shows the first half of the year because ya girl was unemployed for a while. Here are my top 5 picks and some honorable mentions.

TV:

Our Beloved Summer

I don't know why, but I got so obsessed with this show. Choi Woo Shik and Kim Da Mi had so much chemistry, and their characters just drew me in. The show is about two high school students--the top student (Yeon Su, played by Da Mi) and the bottom-ranking student (Ung, played by Woo Shik)--who are put together for a documentary. After getting to know each other while shooting the documentary, they fall in love and date for years. They eventually break up but are forced to reunite to do a sequel to the documentary, this time documenting their lives as adults. There was just something about the way the story was written, how well Woo Shik and Da Mi played the characters, and the summer vibe and visuals of the show. It just sucked me in. I rewatched scenes a million times and even did an ugly drawing inspired by a scene in the show. I look forward to seeing these two work together again.

My Liberation Notes

I love a kdrama that follows a group of characters and really digs deep into each one. You would think that the romance in this would be highlighted more than the character arcs (because kdrama), but the show balanced the romance and the characters' growth really well. There were several moments in this show where I saw myself in the characters and it also made bold story choices. I knew this would be good because the show's writer, Park Hae Young, also wrote My Mister which I also really liked.

Film:

Moonlit Winter

I found out about this film on IG, where I saw that Kim So Hye (of Produce 101 fame) starred in a film a few years back. I liked the aesthetics of this film, the slow pace, the quiet affection between the characters. It had the same vibe as Little Forest, and it also had that mother-daughter journey from miscommunication to friendship. The mother's story is heartbreaking and is not often told, and I liked how the film subtly subverted narrative tropes and let her story of yearning overflow.

Strawberry Shortcakes

This one's a rewatch. I saw it years ago, and although I forgot about the title and most of the story, I found it interesting how I still remembered a few parts of it even years after. I decided to rewatch it this year to refresh my memory and see why the film stuck with me. Strawberry Shortcakes shows the inner lives of four Japanese women: a sex worker who sleeps in a coffin and has a singular obsession with a man she knows from high school; a stone-worshipping assistant whose innocence sticks out in a workplace that sells sex; a sleep-deprived, solitary artist struggling to succeed in a money-driven industry; and an office worker who's looking for love. It's rare to see a story that revolves around a group of women who live complex lives, and the film also makes notable choices in cinematography.

Book

The Soulmate Equation

Romance novels are perfect for me right now: not too deep, but enough to make me feel things and escape life. This one is really cute and has an interesting premise: Jess, a single mom and statistics expert, gets matched with River Peña, the cold-hearted creator of a dating app called GeneticAlly, which matches people based on their DNA compatibility. If you're looking for a lighthearted romance read, check this out.

#Youtube #soulmate equation #christina lauren #romance novel #books #movie #film #tvshow #kdrama #my liberation notes #our beloved summer #moonlit winter #kim dami #choi woo shik #fromis_9 #(g)i-dle #love and leashes #strangers from hell #pretty proofreader

[galaxythreads]

Hey, I know you started it over two years ago, but I just finished your weeping siren series and strongly suggest/request that you add ableism warnings to the second story. They're both amazing works, but all the ableism in that one (mainly re: Thor) really stung. It's not inherently wrong to have characters act like that, but I got the impression that it's more your own ableism, because 1) it's never remotely acknowledged or questioned, and 2) you gave warnings for lots of other things but not that. Unfortunately I don't think I'll be able to reread it without feeling gross, but if you add a warning, then other disabled readers can make a more informed choice and perhaps less jarred than I was, so better able to enjoy the stories. Again, great writing, but there's only so many times I can read a disabled character referred to with slurs and treated as lesser without the author caring.

*very softly* hey.

I am so sorry that this was so painful for you to read. You didn't deserve that. I wish there was a way for me to alleviate that frustration and pain, but there isn't. All I can do is say that I am, from the deepest regions of my soul, very sorry.

Thank you for reaching out and addressing your concerns with me. That was extremely brave to do and I'm proud of you for standing up for yourself and knowing your limitations. It doesn't matter to me if this story was two years old or ten. If I can do better to help other readers feel safer in the future, I ALWAYS want to know about that.

Always. Period.

I have added your suggested tags and gone through and added more specific warnings in the story itself. All of Thor's POVs are marked with internalized ableism so everyone can be more aware of what's going on. I am going to think very hard about the way the story is written and figure out whether or not I want to change the language Thor uses to describe himself. If you're wondering WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU KEEP SLURS IN YOU FREAKING INSENSITIVE--????

Because this story is extremely personal to me.

I think it might be helpful to provide some personal background on this. Not as an excuse, never as an excuse, but so you can understand.

Firstly, I don't consider myself to be disabled physically. I want to make that exceptionally clear. I do, however, have long-standing injuries from my eating disorder. My left leg is a mess. I can barely walk some days because it is so painful. My knees used to be a disaster and I would get constant injuries in my feet, toes, knees, and hips from running so much. Now it's just my left leg--the ungodly pain that it is--but when I wrote TBS, I had leg injuries and pain all the time. Just. Bare that in mind.

Thor's struggle with feeling helpless, with blaming himself for the injury and the language he uses in anger at himself, even if it is slurs, is me dealing with the helplessness and frustration I felt about my injuries. It is literally a journal to me. Ive never explained this, but it doesn't make it any less real to me.

I'm a lot more open about my mental struggles, but my physical ones I admittedly find humiliating and shameful (NOT that I would EVER consider anyone else's to be) and I didn't want to list myself as the source of it.

When I wrote this, I didn't even know what ableism /was/. My family has been blessed with relatively good physical health and there are no physically disabled members. I was homeschooled. I rarely left my house as a kid/teen. Because of this, I look at my worldview in fics sometimes as I'm growing up (I have been writing for six years and graduated HS in the midst of them) and I'm like "???" My point with this is I never had ableism explained or addressed.

It wasn't until a year ish ago that I finally had a NAME for this mystic Thing TM and it didn't even occur to me that I should tag TBS as such, despite the fact it is LITERALLY dealing with unaddressed internalized ableism.

I am sorry that I hurt you. I am. I have tagged the story because it needs to be, but I don't know if I can change it because Thor was ME. fumbling through his emotions and dealing with this using language he HAD.

It's me. Not having better words, but desperately trying to face this struggle. Things I think a lot of people with permanent/longstanding injuries would wrestle with before they know how to talk about it better.

I will do better in the future if I decide to do another fic about disability and/or permanent injury. I know better now. I am much more aware of what ableism is and slurs associated with it. I wasn't in 2019-2020.

The reason it's never addressed as wrong in the fic is because I didn't FEEL it was wrong to be so angry at myself for this. Thor SHOULD have had an arc where he learned better and he didn't. I recognize this.

I feel terrible I didn't address anything and was so insensitive. I don't know how to fix this because of how personal it is to me. Not that I'm putting this on you. It's not your fault I'm feeling like this. I just... You were vulnerable with me anon, and I'm attempting to do the same.

Again, I'm sorry. Thank you for reaching out.

#tbs #my fics #me as person #tw internalized ableism

[elendiliel]

Brotherly Love

As requested by @gaeasun, this features her OC Twitch. (I recommend reading her fics, in general and for more and better Twitch content.) (Sorry this took so long; life has only just ceased to be more chaotic than usual. If it has insufficient Twitch, or otherwise isn't up to scratch, please say so and I'll think of something else.) I'm still accepting requests, by the way, and hopefully will fulfil them faster now that I'm a person of fixed abode once more (as opposed to a series of unfixed abodes).

Timeline: Healing AU, the day after the battle of Sundari (described here).

---

That’ll do. Helli let the tension drain out of her shoulders and back for maybe the twentieth time that day – or possibly the fiftieth. She’d long since lost count. The man on the makeshift med-bay bed in front of her, a vod in Wolfpack grey by the name of Torak, slept on, blissfully unaware of anything around him. As the young Jedi Knight had just finished reassembling his right femur, as well as cleaning the deep cuts left by fragments of his cuisse, driven into his flesh by the impact of the slugthrower round that had broken the bone beneath, and fitting a bacta cast over the top of the whole mess, that was a blessing – one bestowed by a medic armed with some very strong sedatives. Helli could take pain away without resorting to drugs, but the sensation of bones moving around under the skin is none too pleasant, as she knew all too well from her own past injuries.

Medicine had never really been her field; she had plenty of first-aid training and rather too much practical experience, but hadn’t made any systematic study of the area. And she wasn’t aware of any affinity for Force-healing, and didn’t dare try to find out just then. But the battle for Sundari had left a lot of people injured, and anyone with any kind of expertise had been called in to help treat them, including Helli and her riduur Torrent. (It was better than listening to Master Kenobi and Lady Bo-Katan Kryze sort out the new relationship between Mandalore and the Republic. Helli was a diplomat by training, with no interest in politics – the main difference being that while diplomats deal in decades and centuries, politicians deal in weeks. Besides, she and Bo-Katan had been at odds since they first met, and any favours the new Mand’alor might owe the jetii had been well and truly used up when the latter insisted that all the casualties of the battle should be treated – Maul’s forces as well as Bo-Katan’s, the Republic’s and the few civilians that had, despite everyone’s best efforts, been caught in the crossfire. Hence the overflowing medcentre and overworked medics.)

Helli had been working flat-out for hours, like every baar’ur in the city – though her skills were rather more specialised than those of most others. She couldn’t heal, exactly, but she could convince a dying person to stay alive a little longer, set a complex fracture faster than any surgeon (at the cost of a splitting headache), or even treat a recalcitrant Child of the Watch for a head wound blindfolded. Usually, though, she had been confined to simpler cases under the official supervision of one of Bo-Katan’s junior medics and a young clone from the 501st, Twitch. Despite being attached to that battalion herself, Helli hadn’t really known Twitch well up until then – he’d first been deployed only the previous year, just before the Umbara campaign, and her unit as a whole had spent little time with the rest of the legion since that near-disaster – but she liked him immensely. He was a talented medic, compassionate and patient, brave enough to be kind in spite of everything the galaxy had tried to do to him. And by all accounts – including that of Fives, Helli’s vod’ika and one of Twitch’s special ori’vode – he was clever and cunning as well, able, for example, to manipulate the most stubborn brother into letting himself be helped or slip hair dye into the shampoo of anyone who deserved it.

The other medic, Bess Skirata, was even less familiar to Helli, but she was clearly cast in the same mould as Twitch, sweet, gentle, smart and very good at her job despite being only about nineteen or twenty, younger than the Jedi woman and not much more than Twitch’s biological age. She was a medical student, on a fast-track programme and likely to go far. And she was also what would be called on Helli’s birth-world a wee brammer. That might have been part of the reason Twitch kept staring at her when he wasn’t consciously focused on a patient, only to look away, blushing furiously, when she seemed about to turn towards him. (Not the whole reason by any means, Helli was sure. Twitch wasn’t that shallow – no clone she knew was – but he was remarkably intuitive and good at reading people even after such a short acquaintance.) Which meant he couldn’t see that Bess was watching him in exactly the same way.

Shaking herself mentally, Helli brought her own focus back to her work. She’d had no sleep for well over a rotation and no caf or food for much of that, and her attention was wandering even more than Twitch’s apparently sometimes did. (One or two of her classmates had the same issue. It hadn’t prevented them from reaching their full potential as Jedi.) Mechanically, she stripped off her latest pair of surgical gloves, stained with Torak’s blood – the medic who’d originally treated him had had to prioritise the fractured femur, so the cuts had been a mess by the time she dealt with them – turning them inside out as she did so and adding them to the ever-growing pile in the clinical waste bin. Still on autopilot, she washed her hands thoroughly before typing a brief report on her datapad, having to self-correct multiple spelling and grammar mistakes as she told the Wolfpack’s medics what she had done and what Torak would need to help him recover fully. Mostly physiotherapy.

As she checked the datapad and her intuition for cases requiring her immediate attention (there were none), she found herself zoning out again, her focus locked on her own hands. Tools of her trade, as meticulously maintained as any other, and almost as battered. Still long, slender and elegant, nearly as pale as the rest of her, musician’s hands, surgeon’s hands, but criss-crossed with a warrior’s scars, one finger adorned with a durasteel band engraved in the spiky Mando’a script. Deft and dexterous, but so strong, able to break bones as easily as set them. Instruments of pain and healing. Like her.

Stars, she was tired.

“Your prescription’s here.” Helli was smiling even before she turned around and saw who had spoken to her. Fives was always a welcome sight – doubly so when he was holding out a cup of caf. Three more disposable cups were balanced precariously in a holder in his other hand, presumably destined for Twitch, Torrent and himself. He must have prised himself from Echo’s side to take care of his other brothers and sister.

“Lifesaver.” Helli meant it. If she’d kept going without either caffeine or a break, she’d probably have made a mistake – quite possibly a fatal one. As she took her cup from her vod’ika, she could tell it was already at a comfortable drinking temperature. Fives had probably even let the hot water cool slightly before adding it to the powder, knowing she had Views on how to brew caf and tea – especially tea. In fact, he’d made it just how she liked it, as the first gulp of her favourite drug told her. Double strength, no sugar, and the right proportion of milk, cooling the caf and taking the very edge off the bitter taste without ruining the flavour. Not that there was much flavour.

“I couldn’t find anything better,” Fives said apologetically. Helli wondered how hard he’d tried. And how many people he’d argued with in the process.

“Medcentre caf is always bad. It’s a galactic constant. Probably to try to stop the staff overindulging, but when you’re as tired as I am the formulation doesn’t matter, only the dose.” She took another sip, the headache she’d been resolutely ignoring already starting to ease. “Tor’s been roped in to help in surgery, but Twitch is just finishing up, if you’d like to wait.” Fives did like. Putting the other cups down on a spare table, he leaned against the wall beside her, his own caf in one hand. Single-dose and drowned in milk, presumably. Helli raised an eyebrow and a half at him – he was supposed to be cutting down on stimulants after a near-fatal injury to his heart – but he was entirely unabashed. The battle had been hours before, and if something were to go wrong, it couldn’t happen in a better place.

The remaining cups were easy to match to their intended recipients. Torrent’s was almost pitch-black, double strength without milk or sugar. He was the only one of their team who didn’t complain about the way she made caf, even as a joke. Twitch’s, on the other hand, didn’t look like caf at all.

“Is there any caffeine in that?”

“Some. But it’s mostly hot chocolate. That’s how he likes it.” Of course it was. Fives was fluent in all the love languages, though his native one was touch, and used them at every opportunity. And few things say “I love you” like a perfectly made cup of a tired vod’ika’s favourite hot drink.

Companionable silence fell over their end of the room as they drank their caf and demolished a couple of small packets of biscuits (medcentre standard issue again, shortbread studded with little pieces of dried fruit), watching Twitch and Bess at work. Helli could sense Fives’ growing unease even before he “spoke” telepathically (not wanting the others to hear).

Are you seeing this? He knew she knew what he meant – and what her answer would be.

I’ve barely seen anything else when I’m not concentrating on a patient. They’re not as subtle as they think, except to each other. More subtle than Anakin, I suppose, but that’s not hard.

True. I am happy for Twitch, or will be if this comes to anything. He deserves all the good things he can get. I just didn’t think he’d be the first one to have a crush on anyone. Twitch was the youngest of Fives’ 501st squad, not yet ten.

I think it’s more than that. Helli was no expert on romance – she hadn’t even noticed Torrent’s feelings for her for months, and it had taken her over two years and a near-death experience to be sure of hers for him – but she was as sure as she could be in that case. On both sides.

Seriously? Under other circumstances, Fives would have looked at her in astonishment, his eyebrows almost at his hairline. That young? He’s nine, and she can’t be more than twenty. I thought that was reserved for cheap holonovels.

As far as I can tell. And he’s mentally eighteen, remember. It’s unusual to fall in love so young, but not impossible. I was eighteen when I fell for Torrent, though I didn’t realise it back then. I thought it was just a crush, and I knew those feelings weren’t anywhere near as important as my duty, so I put them on one side to deal with another time. Maybe when I wasn’t his CO. Perhaps that wasn’t a healthy thing to do, but I thought it was necessary. I couldn’t have known what that other time would be.

Nobody could. But you’re happy with him now, aren’t you? It was mostly a rhetorical question, but not entirely. Fives was fiercely protective of his vod’ikase. If he thought Torrent wasn’t good for Helli, or Bess for Twitch, he’d have serious words with them at the very least.

Very. But I’m glad we waited as long as we did. If we’d – started anything – when he first told me he loved me, I doubt it would have gone well. Logistics and the Code aside, we were too young, and we didn’t know each other well enough. We didn’t quite have that kind of two-way respect and trust that’s essential for a good marriage. They can grow after marriage, of course, as can love, but the other way round is better. Helli watched Twitch and Bess for a while. I hope those two realise that. I think they will be right for each other, but rushing into anything could be a recipe for disaster.

Twitch will. He’s smart enough, and mature for his age, even by our standards. He’s had to be. What do you know about her? That protective instinct again. Fives wanted to make sure his kih’vod’ika didn’t get hurt in any way if he could help it.

She’s Clan Skirata, which is a decent start. Kal Skirata’s cousin. Fives was too young to have been taught by any of the Cuy’val Dar, but he clearly knew Kal’s reputation as one of the better instructors on Kamino before the Mandalorians left and the Jedi took over. Clan Skirata tended to be relatively moderate – not hard-line pacifists like the New Mandalorians, but not as extreme as Death Watch either. Bess obviously agreed with the majority of her family. Her traditional beskar’gam, no doubt inherited from a family member and reforged, was painted with symbols and designs associated with healing and peace. A good match for Twitch’s shell, and especially his bucket, marked with a medic’s cross and four dots and four lines on each side, representing his batchmates, who had marched on one by one on Umbara. The brother they had left behind had, if anything, become more compassionate, more determined to save everyone he could, especially his vode, as a result. Medical student. Started two years early, and likely to graduate early as well. Top of her class. Helli had asked her and Fives’ teammate Spark to slice into Bess’s university records between patients. She might not know Twitch as well as Fives did, but she still had an interest in his welfare. Personality-wise, she’s a lot like him – maybe a bit more assertive, which is no bad thing in the circumstances. I think they’ll make each other happy one day.

One day, Fives agreed, having probably made his own assessment of the young medic. Out loud, he said, “Well, I’d better deliver these before they get cold.” Picking up the other two cups of caf, he made his way over towards Twitch, timing his approach such that his brother was clearly occupied, but Bess wasn’t, so it seemed natural for him to give Twitch’s homemade mocha and another packet of biscuits (chocolate, presumably) to her to pass on later. Helli had to conceal her smile with another sip of caf as Fives left. Smooth, vod’ika. Very smooth.

“I know that look.” The sound of her husband’s voice caused Helli’s heart to skip a beat. She leaned against Torrent, unbothered by his new beskar armour, as he put an arm around her shoulders, inhaling his scent – bacta, disinfectant and soap as well as caf and the sweet-spicy-sharp biscuits he liked, all overlaid on his indefinable but unmistakable Torrent-ness – and only mildly annoyed with herself for letting time slip away from her again. “What have you been up to?”

“Nothing in particular.” Technically true, Helli thought as she gave her cyare a playful look.

His smile, and his sigh, told her he wasn’t in the mood for her games, but wasn’t annoyed with them either. “All right. What has Fives been up to, with your blessing?”

“Just a bit of matchmaking.” Torrent followed her gaze to where Twitch and Bess were chatting away and sharing Twitch’s mocha and biscuits. “So I see. Though I didn’t see that coming. Any other vod would be in for a lot of teasing, but not him.” Not just because Twitch had many ori’vode at least as protective as Fives. The canny young lad was entirely capable of looking after himself. “How long would you give it? Five years?”

Helli considered the question for a few moments. “I’d say three.”

They were both wrong. It was about ten years before they found themselves at the younger couple’s wedding in the newly rebuilt Mandalorian city of Keldabe, surrounded by their own fosterlings and adopted children, a host of vode and their adike, Bess’s extended aliit – not just extended but elongated and protracted – and even a few other Jedi, including the chaos incarnate that was the Skywalker-Amidala family. Helli was sure Twitch and Bess had been ready to take that step for years, but it just hadn’t happened until then. Other things kept getting in the way – Bess’s training and career as a high-flying doctor, Twitch’s as a physical therapy assistant, and many other factors. They had even completely lost touch a few times, much to their burc’yase’s chagrin, but always rekindled their friendship. At last, a year or so before, Bess had finally started actually flirting with Twitch, and he had been more than happy to respond in kind. The rest was history.

The ceremony itself was short and sweet, in traditional Mandalorian fashion. Helli remembered the vows well from her own wedding, but noticed that the final part – mhi ba’juri verde, we raise warriors – was not just included but clearly important to both parties. Twitch would be a good buir, she thought, having noticed how well he got on with his many nieces and nephews, and even with Anakin’s unruly ade. And as he’d been one of the first clones to have his ageing acceleration reversed, he’d get to see his children grow up and have adike of their own, in a peaceful galaxy. Neither he nor his new riduur deserved any less.

The wedding feast would not be so short, especially as it was impossible to stop Fives making a speech when he wanted to do so. Not that anyone minded. Twitch was the last of his vod’ikase to marry and move away – though if Helli were any judge, 501st vodpiles still weren’t a thing of the past, merely rarer. And he could claim an amount of responsibility for that marriage. After all, if it hadn't been for one act of brotherly love, anything else might have happened.

---

Mando'a glossary:

Vod: brother/sister/sibling; informally, clone or honorary clone. Ori' means "older"; kih' and 'ika are factual and affectionate diminutives, respectively; -e and -se are plural endings.

Riduur: husband/wife/spouse.

Baar'ur: medic.

Beskar'gam: armour, especially Mandalorian beskar armour.

Cyare: beloved.

Adike: little ones, sons, daughters, children. Diminutive of ade, which means much the same thing.

Aliit: clan, family.

Burc'yase: friends.

Buir: father, mother, parent.

In Scottish (possibly specifically Glaswegian) slang, a brammer is a beauty, usually used of a girl or woman.

#star wars #the clone wars #jedi oc #original jedi character #fives #clone trooper fives #arc trooper fives #clone trooper oc #clone medic twitch #fanfic #healing au

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 19 - Chasing Silhouettes [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood.

Word Count: 3800

Summary: Truce can be inevitable. 

It was safe to say that you were officially off your rocker after the break up. Stress? Check. No sleep? Check. Getting drunk mid-day? Check.

Looking a serial killer in the eye and threatening him?

Also check.

The constant anger was gone though. That blinding fury was gone, the fear was gone, the only thing you felt was numbness. It was as if you were watching everything happening around you from behind a glass, it was there but you couldn’t touch it or feel it.

With one exception; you missed Spencer each and every minute of the day, so you at least knew there was something left inside of you that wasn’t broken. But after what had happened, it wasn’t like you could call him. You had already left him multiple voice messages whenever you got too drunk anyway, and you were sure he had deleted them without even listening.

Not that you could blame him. He had already told you he wished he had never met you, and there was nothing you could do to change that.

“You guys will get back together,” Kenzie assured you like the hopeless romantic she was, “This is just temporary. I just know it, it’s like me and Mina. You can’t stop true love.”

“I doubt Mina ever told you she never loved you,” you stated, exhaling the smoke of your cigarette. “Or that you told her you wish you had never met her.”

She stole a look at Mina who was waiting for your lattes by the counter and turned to you.

“Well alright, maybe you and Spencer are having a more intense fight than we did, but—“

“This is not a fight, Kenz. We broke up.”

“You broke up with him,” she corrected you, “And you’re still in love with him.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you shrugged your shoulders, “I burned that bridge, okay? After this whole case is over, he will want nothing to do with me—hell, he wants nothing to do with me right now and I don’t blame him.”

“Okay,” Mina said as she came to your table and handed you your latte before sitting down, “What are we talking about?”

“Her and Spencer.”

“Yeah no, fuck that guy.”

Kenzie gasped, “Babe!”

“Kenz, he’s in the FBI, okay? He was there when they brought her into that interrogation room.”

“He wasn’t there when they took me to the station.”

“Fine, he came later on but did nothing to stop his beloved team from hounding you.”

“Mina, he was in another room.”

“You can’t possibly believe he didn’t know what was happening in the interrogation room,” she insisted and Kenzie pulled her brows together.

“Wait, didn’t you say he was the one who called you? For the lawyers and everything?”

Mina shrugged, “Yeah, so? That was just because this one,” she pointed at you, “Was too much of an idiot to ask for a lawyer. What, did you never watch a movie? You always ask for a lawyer.”

“But think about it, it means that he was trying to protect her from that whole interrogation process before he even landed,” Kenzie stated, “He knows how that whole thing goes, he made the calls, he gave his professional opinion to the police, he sent his team because they wouldn’t let him in there, it wouldn’t surprise me if he thought they’d go easy on her.”

You held the warm cup in your hands, listening silently.

“Or he just wanted to play the nice guy so that he could manipulate her more.”

You pulled your brows together, “Dude, he’s not manipulating me.”

“Not right now.”

“Not ever,” you said, “That’s not… that wasn’t the reason. Kenzie has a point, he was trying to get me out of there with minimum damage, and he knows how the system works.”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly why you need to talk to him and explain—“

“Enough people got hurt because of me,” you cut Kenzie off, “Died, even. It would destroy me if it was him, okay? Me staying away is better for him, at least he will stay alive.”

Mina scoffed, “Not that your heartbreak is not important, but I need to bitch at you before I forget,” she said, “How could you not tell me Nolan was planning to propose mom?”

Kenzie smiled, “I think it’s sweet.”

“I think it’s a fucking disaster.”

“Oh come on,” you murmured, sipping your coffee, “You’ve seen them together, haven’t you? It’s bound to happen, he’s head over heels and mom can’t stop talking about him.”

Mina let out a whine, “I’m a good person,” she murmured, “I give to charity and stuff, I don’t deserve this.”

“You’re not ten years old you idiot, a stepfather will not disturb any dynamics you have.”

“He will though!” she protested, “To repeat, he is basically my boss, okay?”

“He’s a lot of people’s boss.”

“Yeah, do you know what people will think when I finally make partner?” she asked you, “That my brand new stepdaddy pulled some strings.”

“Please don’t call him stepdaddy, that’s just disturbing.” Kenzie made a face and Mina heaved a sigh.

“How are you so okay with this?” she asked you and you tilted your head.

“Mina, there’s a killer who’s going after people I know and making sure I see that,” you started, counting with your fingers,  “I’ve been drugged at my own apartment—in my own bedroom only to find my ex boyfriend’s dead body in my kitchen. I’ve been accused of murder, been handcuffed, interrogated and broke up with the love of my life. The last past week, I got maybe five hours of sleep and oh, before I forget, I also threatened our original serial killer father with death just a couple of days ago. Does it look like I’m in the right mental state to worry about getting a new stepdaddy?”

“To repeat, can you guys stop calling him stepdaddy?”

“What did you tell him when he asked for your blessing?” you asked and Mina rolled her eyes.

“I told him that mom is a grown woman,” she said, “She doesn’t need our permission to do anything. If she wants to get married to the guy who has apparently loved her for decades… who am I to say no to that?”

You tilted your head, “You were nice?” you asked in disbelief, “You’re never nice.”

“Eh, I have my moments.”

“What’s the real reason?”

Mina pointed at Kenzie with her thumb, “She said to be nice.”

“You’re so whipped.”

“You are seriously going to sit there and call me whipped when you’ve been wailing for the last month, miss I shall suffer forever after my lost love even though he was two seconds away from handcuffing me and not in a fun way?”

“He wasn’t-“

“Both of you are being too cynical about Nolan,” Kenzie interrupted you and grinned wide, “I mean come on, doesn’t it make you believe in love all over again?”

“It makes me want to get booze because I’ll never have that, Kenz,” you murmured and she pulled her brows together.

“Oh don’t be like that.”

“Kenz he was the love of my life and I lost—“

“I’m leaving if you start crying into your latte,” Mina deadpanned, “And please don’t say that you’ll plan Nolan’s proposal or God forbid, their wedding.”

“My client list is full.”

She let out a laugh, “You realize we all know that’s your favorite excuse when you don’t want to accept a client, right?” she asked you and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I think I’ll sit this one out,” you said and checked your wristwatch, “Well, I gotta get back to the office, I have this meeting and then I have two other meetings with these new pastry shops.”

“Hey, brat?” Mina stopped you as soon as you stood up and you tilted your head.

“Yeah?”

“You’re okay, right?” she asked, “Besides this whole mess?”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to smile, “I’m not but I will be.”

“Will you?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I mean I have to, right? There’s not much of an option there.”

Mina looked like she wanted to insist, but Kenzie squeezed her hand, silently telling her to drop it before you made your way through the street to approach the building your office was in. You nodded at the security guards then got in the elevator and pressed the button.

When the elevator got to your floor the doors opened but your assistant rushed to you as soon as you stepped outside

“Y/N, hi! You haven’t been answering your phone.”

“Shit, I forgot it on silent,” you murmured and checked it to see five calls from her, “Five calls? Erica, did you guys catch fire or something?”

“I was actually thinking maybe you would want to come to the balcony with me, you know, to get some fresh air before your meeting?”

You pulled your brows together, “What’s going on?”

“We didn’t know if we should call you or left them downstairs but…” she said, making your heart skip a beat.

“What is it?”

“Remember the time you said you were allergic to jasmines?”

You could feel the goosebumps rising on your arms, “Yeah?”

She pointed at something over your shoulder and you turned your head, your breathing catching up in your throat as someone opened the glass door to go outside.

There was a bowl full of jasmine flower petals but you could still take the overly sweet scent. Bile climbed up your throat as you walked through the door to approach the reception desk, and as soon as you saw what was in the middle of the petals, the room started spinning.

A vial of blood.

“Are you dating like a goth guy?” Erica asked as you took a step back, the walls closing in on you.

“Call the FBI,” you gasped as you rushed to the balcony, desperate for air, “Now.”

                                            ***

Panic attacks were a big part of your childhood, and even if you weren’t completely unfamiliar with them as an adult, they still managed to take you by surprise.

It took you nearly an hour to pull yourself together. An hour of sitting there in the balcony, your knees drawn up to your chest as your mind desperately searched for something to focus on, something to hold on to.

Some happy place.

By the time FBI had gotten there, your makeup was smudged around your eyes due to the excessive crying, your whole body was shaky and you were so exhausted that you could barely will yourself to get up and walk to your office.

The jasmine scent still clung to the air though.

You didn’t even have any energy to keep your eyes open, your whole mind wrapped in that numb haze that kept pulling you deeper and deeper into the absolute nothingness as you sat there on the couch, multiple agents coming and going into the office, into the reception, into your floor.

Dr Tara Lewis, Spencer’s coworker had given you a small bottle of hand lotion so that you could take in a scent other than those flowers before she had shot you a sympathetic smile and left your office to talk with the reception.

Even raising your hand to wipe at your nose with the tissue balled up in your palm felt way too tiring for you, but you wiped your nose, your eyes still fixed on the wall as the glass door to your office opened once again and footsteps came closer.

You didn’t even have to raise your head as Spencer approached you before he knelt down to look you in the eye.

“Hi.”

You blinked a couple of times, “Hi,” you sniffled, “Is it okay if we don’t do this today?”

He raised his brows, “Don’t do what?”

“I’m too tired to fight,” your speech was almost slurred at this point but you pulled your brows together, forcing yourself to focus as much as you could. “So can we do that tomorrow please? Like truce for a day?”

He offered you a tight lipped smile, “I’m not here to fight,” he said gently, as if trying to pull you back to the reality without scaring you, “Truce for a day works for me.”

You picked at the crumpled tissue in your hand, “Thank you.”

“Do you think you can talk to me though?”

You nodded silently, wiping at your nose again. “Yes.”

“Great,” he said, his calm voice washing over you, “That’s good. What’re you thinking about right now?”

“I’m thinking…” you tried to put your thoughts in order, “Tara gave me a peach hand lotion, can you give it back to her after you’re done here?”

“Sure,” he said, “That’s a good thing to focus on. What else?”

“It’s not my dad,” you said, “My dad wouldn’t dare to fuck with me, not after- it’s not him.”

“Tell me something other than the case.”

You willed yourself to concentrate on his handsome face, “Do I look like a horror movie corpse right now?”

He scoffed a chuckle, shaking his head. “You look beautiful Y/N. You always do.”

“The only person who’s a bigger liar than you is that makeup artist that told me this eyeliner was waterproof.”

He reached out to tilt your chin up so that his hazel gaze could study you better, and even in your numb state you could feel the warmth spreading through your body with his touch, “How long have you been awake?”

“I dozed off for like an hour last night,” you murmured, “I have this new apartment but I can’t sleep in my bedroom because I keep thinking there’s some noise coming from the kitchen, like… like it’s going to happen again. It’s impossible though, there are like five different locks on that door, someone would have to come with a battering ram to open the damn thing but I still don’t feel safe enough to—to sleep.”

He thought for a moment, “You can’t sleep because you don’t feel safe,” he murmured and you heaved a sigh, your head dropping before you forced yourself to raise it again, making a face.

“I’ve never tried peach lotion before, it smells nice…” you mused, your gaze fixed on the wall while the black spots flew in your vision “Have you ever tried it? Also hypothetically speaking, what happens if you eat lotion? Like do you think—“

“Y/N,” his clear voice shot through the haze again, “Sweetheart, look at me.”

If you weren’t too goddamn tired, the pet name would make you snap out of it and even give you a spark of hope, but you could barely concentrate on what was happening.

“Can you do something for me?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, anything.”

“Lie down.” he said and you pulled your brows together.

“Why?”

“We’ll try something,” he said, stealing a look outside to the reception crawling with agents before turning to you as you curled up on the couch, still holding the tissue tight in your hand, your eyes getting heavy the minute your head hit the small pillow.

“What are we trying?” you managed to ask through the fog and he smiled softly.

“Close your eyes, for thirty seconds,” he said, “Just focus on your breathing. I’m right here, okay? Can you do that for me?”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, counting in your head.

You didn’t even reach fifteen before the sleep surrounded you.

                                                      ***

You were pulled away from the bliss when someone shook you by the shoulder gently.

“Y/N,” Erica’s voice reached you, “Y/N, wake up.”

You opened your eyes groggily, frowning. It was already dark outside and there was nearly no one in the office except for her and you. You attempted to sit up but stopped as soon as Spencer’s cologne filled your nostrils and you looked down at the jacket covering you.

He must’ve left his jacket on you while you slept in order to keep you from getting cold.

You could feel the small spark of peace shooting through you, the warmth spreading through your veins as you hugged the jacket tighter around your body and cleared your throat.

“What time is it?”

“Eight,” she shot you a small smile, “Um, everyone left and I figured you’d get a stiff back if you sleept on the couch any longer.”

“Erica,” you said, “You didn’t have to stay.”

“Come on, I wouldn’t leave you here alone after today,” she said, “Besides, I told that tall handsome agent that I’d drive you home. His team was called back to the FBI, some clue or whatever.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, I’d be a lousy assistant if I didn’t.”

“No, I mean—“ you swallowed thickly, “Thank you. It means more than you know to me.”

She grinned at you as you grabbed your purse and both of you made your way to the elevator.

“So I take it there’s no goth boyfriend but…” she said as the elevator went down, “Maybe a tall handsome flirt?”

“We broke up,” you murmured and she scoffed.

“Yeah no.”

You blinked a couple of times, “Erica, I’m pretty sure we broke up. I was there—“

“No I mean,” she huffed while you left the elevator to approach her car, “I have a talent to sense these sort of things you see. He doesn’t look at you like you broke up, and that jacket over you certainly doesn’t say you broke up.”

You got in the car with her and she started it.

“Is it because of your dad?” she asked you and your head shot up.

“What? How did you-?”

“It’s a small office, people talk,” she said as if apologizing, “But don’t worry, we all know that’s not the kind of person you are. I even had a fight with my boyfriend about it, but I told him that I knew you, you would never be able to do something like that. He was like you don’t know what people are capable of and I was like well...”

You were way too tired to answer her, so you let her talk about the time how she was great at sensing people’s true motives and how her boyfriend thought you were capable of murder while you sat in her car as she drove you to your place. You thanked her, your mind still fuzzy with sleep and made your way to your apartment.

After checking if all five locks were in their places and counting them in your head, you kicked off your heels and made your way to the fridge to get the bottle of whiskey. You took a swig of it and went to the couch, turning on the TV and leaning back to the soft cushions. You slowly took the jacket off and pulled it over your body, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent.

Maybe you could just imagine that you two were together, just for tonight.

You managed to distract yourself for a couple of hours, just sitting there and staring at the TV, barely paying attention to what was playing. By the time it was midnight, you had reached the half of the bottle and looked down at your phone for a couple of seconds before finding his name in the contacts.

You didn’t have to wait for long, and for once it didn’t go to voice mail.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” you smiled, “Um… is the truce still on? Or should I— should I hang up?”

“No,” he said almost too quickly, “No, don’t. We have today, don’t we? Might as well use the truce until the end.”

“Okay,” you whispered, “Thanks, by the way. For today. I can imagine how hard it is for you—“

“No,” his voice was soft, “No you really can’t.”

A silence fell upon you and you grabbed a tissue, wiping at your eyes,

“Professor?”

“Hm?”

“What does science say about heartbreak? Hypothetically speaking?”

“About heartbreak?”

“Yeah.”

He cleared his throat, “Considering the stimulation that increases dopamine and-“

“In a way that I will understand while I’m half drunk?”

“Addiction.”

You pulled back to look at the phone, “Addiction?”

“You know the areas of your brain that are active when you’re in love? Those areas are also active when you use…well, you name it. Cocaine. Drugs. Nicotine.”

“So that means heartbreak means-“

“Withdrawals,” he finished your sentence for you, “Exactly.”

You grabbed another tissue from the box on the coffee table, wiping at your nose.

“Spencer, what if it goes on like this forever?” you rasped out, “This whole heartbreak. What if I feel like this forever? What if I… What if I’m like seventy and I still—“

Love you.

“Miss you,” you changed your mind mid-sentence, “What if I’m old and gray and still using your jacket as a blanket?”

“That’s what you’re doing right now?”

“Yeah,” you murmured, “Pathetic right?”

“I recorded that show you liked and still can’t bring myself to delete it,” he admitted, “I don’t even watch it, it’s just there. You sure you want to talk about pathetic with me?”

You let out a bitter laugh, “Nah, still no competition professor. I still call you whenever I’m drunk, remember? You’re handling this way better than me, you still have your dignity.”

“I saw a fridge magnet in a store a week ago and I actually walked in there to buy it before I remembered I couldn’t give it to you,” he paused, “I’m not handling anything, Y/N. I’m a mess, it’s like…”

You held your breath, waiting for him to continue.

“You took something with you on your way out,” he said slowly, “And I don’t know what to do with what’s left, to be honest.”

“My chest actually hurts when I see you, you know?” you murmured, “And I still haven’t deleted the pictures.”

“Me neither.”

You picked at the tissue in your hand, “So much for Dante and Beatrice huh?”

“All things considered, they’d handle it worse than us.”

“I doubt anyone could handle it worse than us, professor.”

“No think about it,” he said, “We had….we had each other, at least. They didn’t technically lose each other, because they were never together.”

“It’s still romantic.”

“Dante saw Beatrice twice in his life,” he told you, “Once when they were nine, once when they were both adults. Twice in his whole life. Ignore the poems, what would you do if a guy you saw when you were nine showed up years and years later, proclaiming his undying love for you?”

“Call the police?” you said, making him chuckle.

“There you go.”

“When you put romanticism aside, Beatrice should’ve gotten a restraining order.”

“They didn’t have those back then, Y/N.”

You let out a small giggle, “Yeah yeah…” you murmured, “So what does that mean then? We’re more tragic than Dante and Beatrice?”

He sniffled and cleared his throat, “Yeah,” he said, “I think that’s what it means.”

You could feel the tears burning your eyes, “It’s not going to get easier, is it?” you croaked out after almost a minute of silence and he thought for a moment.

“I don’t think so,” he said, “Not for me anyway.”

“Not for me either,” you murmured and wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand, burying your nose to the collar of his jacket draped over you.

If you closed your eyes, maybe it would stop hurting this much. You touched your screen to get to your gallery, then found your picture together, both of you smiling at the camera, unaware of the heartbreak that would hit you both very soon.

“Good night Dante,” you whispered and Spencer exhaled a shaky breath, as if he was craving the addictive high of your presence as much as you did his.

“Good night Beatrice.”

Chapter 20

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagines #twisted #spencer #reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader #criminal minds

[sumsebien]

Your Highness pt.5// Prince Friedrich

series masterlist

summary: Y/N and Friedrich are still very much in the fairytale stage of their engagement. Of course, that is before the Queen gives her verdict on this match.

warnings: none

a/n: final part of your highness. the next part is “i’ll be in ruins for you” and it’s already up so check that out. oh and here is the duclaux piece i've been writing about. okayyy i’m too excited i am posting this right now :))))

When you and Anthony told Lord Wilson of your decision, he was happy for you and even invited you to visit his cottage should you ever find yoursef in Scotland. That alleviated parts of the guilt you felt for having strung him along. You wished him all the happiness and fortune before he bid you goodbye and left for his home. After that, you and the Prince had your last dance of the night, both of you trying to keep your giddiness to an absolute minimum as you spun around the room in each other’s arms.

It was utter bliss.

You hadn’t announced the news to the world just yet. So far, the only people who knew of your engagement were your family and Friedrich. And you intended to keep it that way until absolutely necessary.

Everyone was happy. Mama and Daphne were on board the moment they learned that you would remain close, most of the time, for them to visit. Benedict was just glad you had found your match and that you were generous enough to lend him that oil set. Colin was slightly sad that you’d not be living in a splendid castle in Prussia and allow him a tour whenever he made a stop on one of his continental tours. Little Hyacinth was most excited of all, always wondering what you were going to do the moment you became a Princess. Gregory usually answered before you could, resulting in a chase around the house.

As for you, you found yourself singing alone as you sketched in your notebook all the things that reminded you of Friedrich. And it had only been the morning after the engagement. You could not wait for noon to arrive so that you may see him again for the private tour of Somerset.

“Someone’s happy,” Benedict remarked, falling against the empty seat next to you.

“She has been singing all morning!” Eloise said, looking up from her book.

You smiled, ignoring them and went on with your humming.

“Miss Bridgerton?” Humbolt appeared at the entrance to the drawing room. “From Prince Friedrich, my Lady.”

“Yes?” You stood, leaving your notebook behind on the couch.

From behind him, Humbolt picked up a beautiful arrangement of flowers, almost as tall as he was. You hadn’t even fully registered the impressive stature of it yet and Mama was already touching the flowers and sniffing them.

“Darling, this must be very expensive,” she said, pointing at the two-toned roses in white and pink, along with the vibrant pops of blue from the cornflowers. The bouquet was finished with gardenias, adding a wonderful aroma to the room almost immediately.

“But why cornflowers and roses?” Eloise asked and all of you turned to Mama for an answer.

“Roses are the national flower of England as cornflowers are to Prussia.”

You felt an overwhelming sense of warmth just looking at him like so. You decided to sit down on the bench behind you and began to sketch him, “after that day, I went to the library and did my reasearch. Antoine Jean Duclaux, at the time he painted this, was only a student accompanying a more famous artist. While his teacher painted a Queen playing music, Duclaux made a portrait of her from the back. Perhaps so grief-stricken by the recent loss of her dear friend that she could not show her face.” The graphite version of Friedrich was coming to life and you had all the intentions of repainting it onto a canvas. You tried to capture his gentleness with the way his fingers curled ever so gently as well as his strength held mainly in his shoulders. The Friedrich before you had caught onto what you were doing by now. “You’re supposed to draw something that inspires you! That’s the only reason why we are here, my dear!” “I know! And I am doing just that!” He had no objections to remaining still and allowing you to complete your sketch. It didn’t take as long as you made him believe it would. The last five minutes you spent admiring him but he did not have to know that. After you were done, your family arrived to the Duclaux piece. Friedrich joined Hyacinth and Gregory and messed about in the room while you stood next to Benedict. “I don’t have favorites but if I did, you would be my favorite sister, you know that?” Benedict whispered to you when you came to stand by his side. “Do you love me? Or do you love him?” You motioned towards Friedrich who was now helping Hyacinth with her revenge. “Both of you I adore. For you have such fine taste in arts and in people,” he smiled, swinging his arm around your shoulder. You chuckled, about to tease him further when the your guide stopped talking. Through the door came a guard who cleared his voice, looking to Friedrich, “your Royal Highness, the Queen has requested your presence at once.” Before he turned to you, “And yours, Miss Bridgerton.” Dear readers, This Author believes she has uncovered a royal engagement made in secret. It is not hard to guess who the two lovebirds might be in this town. This morning a large bouquet of flowers was sent to the Bridgerton House. Large enough to mean more than just courting. Should the Prince have found himself a Princess so soon? And in someone other than the Diamond of the Season, as well. How very scandalous!

You remembered the nerves you felt waiting behind the tall white ornate doors with Mama and Daphne. You had tried your best not to mess up and in doing so, you paid no mind to your footing which resulted in you almost falling to the ground in front of her Majesty. It wasn’t as much of a disaster as Miss Featherington who fainted at her feet but it was enough to make a terrible and no doubt, lasting impression on her.

You just didn’t expect yourself to be here again. Behind those white doors, engaged to her nephew, you were going to go in and explain yourself to her the reason why you two had hid the engagement from her and have her found out through reading Whistledown. No amount of sophistication and elegance could save you now.

Before you were due inside, you tugged at Friedrich’s hand. He, for one, was not nervous at all, still smiling. The crinkles by his eyes and the dimples by his cheeks offered you a moment of peace. “And what would your mother say? When the Queen tells her that we hid an engagement from her?” you asked quietly. At this point, anything that could delay the possibility of losing Friedrich was good enough.

“She is in Prussia and should not be here until I ask her to. When she does, she will love you. And,” he gave your hand a final kiss, “we did not hide anything. I would never hide my love for you. Not from the Queen, not from anyone.”

You nodded before turning to Anthony who gave you a small smile. “It’s going to be alright, sister.” But you could tell he was nervous too from the ways he kept fidgeting with his fingers behind his back.

Echoing from inside the throne room were your names and suddenly the doors swung open, revealing the longest walk you’d ever taken leading up to the throne. The Queen sat leaning back, her watchful eyes burning into you three, but especially you. Beside her was an army of lady’s maids in extravagant gowns, Pomeranians in their arms. You kept your gaze low and made sure that you did not trip and that your curtsy was perfect.

So far, everything went swimmingly. Up until she opened her mouth. “Care to explain what this is, Friedrich?” She snapped her fingers and one of the servants brought forth a copy of Whistledown on a tray.

Friedrich held up his hand to stop the servant from moving any further. “Lady Whistledown was correct to assume we were engaged.”

She laughed, “You are engaged? To her?”

“I asked Miss Bridgerton to marry me last night and she has accepted. We were going to tell you very soon.”

“You proposed last night?” The Queen sat up in her seat, about to storm forward but stopped herself and slumped back, throwing a hand over her forehead, “do my opinions mean so little to you?”

Anyone in their right mind would be scared out of their wits by now. You were sure Friedrich was the only one you had ever met who wasn’t terrified of the Queen. You glanced to him briefly. He kept his gaze steady on her, still calm and collected. “I love her very much. As she loves me. She may not be what you are looking for in a wife for me but she is what I am looking for. I hope we may have your blessing.”

The Queen did not seem like she was listening or like she cared at all. You knew this was headed. Your hand brushed his, knowing the inevitable was on the horizon. He didn’t look at you, his eyes burning into the Queen.

“No. And you,” she looked to you and Anthony. Contempt in her gaze and venom in her words, “you shall leave.”

taglist: @awesomebooklover17 @oopsiedoopsie23 @milkbaer @vampirestookmydoubts @5hundreddaysofsummer ❤️

let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the replies or through messages. love you.

#fun fact the reason why i named the first part your highness was because i had always wanted it to end with Y/N as her highness #prince friedrich #prince friedrich x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #prince friedrich fanfiction #prince friedrich imagines #prince friedrich imagine #daphne bridgerton #simon basset #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton

[samstree]

and the wolf was nowhere to be found (2/3)

Jaskier pays the price of his lies. With blood and tears and a few broken hearts.

(4.3k, lying spell/potion, cursed jaskier, blood and injury, miscommunication, mutual pining)

Previous | Read on AO3

The reverse trope series: [1] [2] [3] [4]. 

Jaskier wakes with a crick in his neck and an aching heart.

He goes through the motion of packing, their morning routine too familiar to distract him from the heavy guilt in his chest. Jaskier wonders if Geralt is actively avoiding him—the way his back is turned at every chance can’t be a coincidence.

The only time he so much as spares a glance is when Jaskier puts the lemon cake in their rations bag, wrapped perfectly and untouched. Geralt stills for a split second, his jaw clenched.

Jaskier wants to brush it off.

Finding an excuse is the first instinct he has, thinking of a lie as to why he didn’t eat something he’s been drooling over for ages, and erase that crestfallen look on Geralt’s face, the one that is breaking his heart.

Because he can’t exactly tell the truth, which is that he’s more likely to be sick if he ate it. Another lie, however, would turn his stomach even more.

Jaskier remains silent.

Even Roach is judging him as they walk out of the stable. Jaskier bears her side eyes and annoyed headbutt without putting up a fight. The mare is too perceptive to miss the tension in the air, and her protectiveness is more than justified. She’s a smart girl. Of course, she knows Jaskier is one making her broody witcher brood even harder.

She tries to bite his doublet again, and it’s Geralt who stops her with a soothing hand down his mane, murmuring confused questions into her ear. Sweet, kind Geralt, who has been rejected by Jaskier so many times for no reason in the past few days, is still trying to defend him.

Jaskier needs to make it right.

“Geralt, look—”

“Master Jaskier!”

Someone in the distance rudely interrupts Jaskier’s nervous attempt. He turns by instinct and watches a boy in lilac doublet jog up to them. He’s so young, no older than twenty, still with that joviality and naïvety in his features. The way his matching doublet and trousers could catch the eyes of any crowd reminds Jaskier of himself in his early years.

“Sweet Melitele, I’m your biggest fan! Oh my…” the boy proclaims, awestruck. “I’ve been following your ballads for years, and now I get to meet you in person!”

Jaskier looks to Geralt and then back at the man.

“Ah, I’m flattered. It’s always nice to meet a fan, but you see—” Jaskier gestures to the horse and the man behind him. “—I’m in a hurry to leave town.”

Besides, he’s in no mood to converse right now. The quicker he can get Geralt alone, the better. With this weight on his chest, Jaskier feels so drained just talking to anyone but his witcher, let alone dealing with an enthusiastic fan.

“Oh but you must listen to my set first!” The boy looks at him expectantly. “I dream of writing a hit song just like Toss a Coin. I could be just as big—”

“I’d love to, but the circumstances won’t allow it.” With the biggest smile plastered on his face, Jaskier dismisses the guy. “I’m sure there’s promise in you, especially now you’ve chosen the correct role model—”

“You can go, Jaskier.”

Jaskier snaps his head to Geralt, confused as to what he just heard.

“We need to leave this morning, my dear. That’s the plan.” Jaskier frowns. “Remember?”

He excuses himself to the young man and drags Geralt away too quickly, too rudely—on another day he’d feel contrite ignoring a fan like this, but today he’s mind is occupied by something much more important.

Once out on the street and alone, Geralt’s befuddled frown deepens. “Why did you—”

“I need to tell you something,” Jaskier interrupts. “Before I say it, I know you will get mad at me, but you have to understand that the past year has been hard on me, Geralt. When you showed up in Oxenfurt out of the blue, I didn’t have enough time to process everything or what it would mean for us to travel together again. That’s why everything is so wrong now and I need to make it right.”

“I know what you want to say.”

The world stops.

All he can see is that pained look on Geralt’s face, the one that’s breaking his heart and making his blood run cold. Of course, he knows, witcher senses and all. As if Jaskier has ever gotten away with lying to Geralt’s face in the past.

“You do?” he breathes, the crack in his voice unmistakable.

Geralt lets out a sigh. He’s not mad. At least, he doesn’t look like he’s angry with Jaskier. “It’s been obvious in the past few days, and I… I do understand.”

“Oh.”

There’s still hope then. Jaskier just needs to come clean and apologize, and, definitely, throw whatever game he’s been playing out the window. They will be fine. The two of them, the bard and the witcher on the path, just like the old days—

“I can leave now,” Geralt starts. “With me gone, you’d be free to stay here for longer. You have so many things to see and so many people to meet. You can go back and talk to the boy. Finally, there’s someone who can wax lyrical with you. It’ll be for the best.”

“What?”

“You don’t need to say it, Jaskier. I can see now that it’s better if we part ways. Let’s not make things more difficult.”

Jaskier stares, gaping like a fish out of water. He can’t believe what he’s hearing, after all this time, after the mountain. Geralt wouldn’t do it.

He wouldn’t.

“You are leaving me here?”

Geralt looks as if he’s stricken. His shoulders tense like every time he wants to appear smaller.

“It’s for the best,” he repeats.

Jaskier shakes his head. “Wait, I thought you understood. I’m sorry, Geralt, for the past few days. I didn’t mean to… I wanted to apologize, so you know I didn’t mean it.”

The smile at the corners of Geralt’s lips is too sad.

“You don’t need to apologize. It wasn’t fair of me to ask it of you to begin with—”

“Ask me what?”

“—Us traveling together again… It was only wishful thinking. There was never a second chance and I never should have gone to find you.”

Jaskier takes a step back, swallowing the lump in his throat. Suddenly the collar of his doublet is too tight and the lute on his back is too heavy. He has to look away from Geralt’s resolute face just to stop the stinging in his eyes.

“You promised…” he mumbles. “You promised not to leave again.”

Geralt falters for a second, his hand resting on Roach’s saddle as if to steady himself. When he answers, his tone is cold, colder than Jaskier can take.

“How can I keep you when everything catches your eye, Jask? You are not made to stay... Not with me. Not after everything that happened.”

Disbelievingly, Jaskier retreats. His hand fists around the strap of his lute case, digging into his palm. “Not made to stay? Seriously?”

“It’s for the—”

“If you tell me it’s for the best one more time, I swear, Geralt…”

“Jaskier.”

Geralt calls out his name without heat like he’s placating an unreasonable child. Jaskier exhales in exasperation.

“Maybe you are right that it was only wishful thinking.” he forces the words out, his heart sinking. “For once it was actually my fault, and you can’t wait to ask for life’s one blessing again.”

“I—”

“Fine. Have at it,” Jaskier hisses. “I don’t care.”

The silence that follows is deafening.

Jaskier lands the biggest lie he’s ever told in this mess. He drags his feet to cooperate, to take him away and put some distance between him and the worst disaster that’s ever descended upon his life.

Roach neighs, but the sound is far-away. Jaskier grabs at the doublet at his chest and wonders if the witcher-shaped hole within can ever be filled.

 ~~

Jaskier doesn’t stop.

He walks into the bustling crowd of the market, heedless of cheery townspeople going about their day, and he keeps walking until the noise dies down.

Jaskier stops at the riverbank with nowhere to go, so he sits down on the ground and finally lets the dam break.

Crying does very little to ease the ache, and yet when the tears bring a release for the pent-up pressure in his chest. It’s hard to feel justified in letting the pain be cried away when he’s so aware of his own faults in the once-again ending of their companionship.

After all, Geralt couldn’t wait to throw him aside on top of that mountain when he’d done nothing wrong. What makes him think Geralt will tolerate him when he intentionally fucks things up.

Jaskier gasps for air, but only a whimper chokes out. How pathetic, to regret the most precious second chance destiny has ever granted him.

Now he knows for sure that he doesn’t deserve to cry, to let himself feel even just slightly better in the wake of his destruction.

Jaskier tries to stifle the tears with a hand at his mouth, and breathes. In and out, one breath after another. It’s like trying to contain a storm threatening to wreck through his entire being.

But he manages, after an eternity.

Jaskier sniffles one last time and wipes away the tear tracks. There’s a tremor in his hands but he pays no mind. The lute case is laying carelessly in the grass where he dropped it. He slings it onto his back and realizes that in a frenzy, he’s left everything else he owns in Roach’s saddlebags.

He could laugh at the idea of going back there, tail between his legs, as if being kicked out of Geralt’s life—for good this time—isn’t humiliating enough. His only hope hangs on the possibility that Geralt may have left his packs at the inn so they don’t have to face each other. Why would Geralt want to see him anyway? The witcher should be long gone.

Jaskier doesn’t make it too far when a streak of lilac pops out of nowhere.

“Oh! Here you are, Master Jaskier. You are a hard man to track down.”

The boy still looks too chirpy for Jaskier’s liking, too bright and too carefree. His mood is soured even further.

“Look, I’m not fit for company today.” Jaskier walks right past the young man, heedless of his insistence. “Mister—what is your name? Maybe you’ll catch me at the next festival if fate allows.”

The boy ignores his deflection and stops right in front of Jaskier’s face, which successfully draws his full attention and pisses him off completely. “I said—”

“Why are you in such a hurry?” The kid doesn’t relent. “I thought the witcher is determined to abandon you for the second time. Don’t you think he’ll stick to it this time?”

Strangely, the other man doesn’t look nearly as young up close. His face is youthful for sure, smooth and unblemished, and yet there’s an inexplicable weariness in his blue eyes. Now that Jaskier notices, these blue eyes look eerily similar to his own. With just the eyes, he could be looking into a mirror.

Jaskier wants to squirm.

“Did no one teach you that eavesdropping is rude?” He pauses, startled. “Wait, a second time… You knew—”

“Oh.” The man looks sheepish. “Can’t blame a fan for keeping tabs on you, can we?”

An overly zealous fan is nothing new, but somehow, this one sends a shiver down Jaskier’s spine.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Jaskier says, trying to back away. “I need to get back to town. You know, where the inspirations are, so I’ll find it in me to… um, compose more of those pieces you love so much.”

“Oh, don’t kid yourself! You are not going back to him, are you? Twenty years! All the sweat and blood and singing his praises and this is what you get after all this time!”

The guy grabs at Jaskier’s arm, which he shakes off in horror.

“You know nothing about me. Or Geralt.”

“That witcher will never see you!” he exclaims. “I was there when your first ballad swept the continent off its feet, Jaskier. From that moment on, I knew you were special. What appreciation has that mutant shown you? Only insults and scorn.”

“Geralt is not like that, he—”

Jaskier freezes to the spot.

He forces his attention back to the boy’s face. His eyes are still startlingly blue, even more so in anger. There’s not a single trace of age at his temples, and yet…

“My first song was twenty-two years ago,” Jaskier states, something akin to fear creeping into his voice. “What did you say your name was again?”

At those words, the man’s face shifts. It’s like watching someone shed a layer of skin, a façade, and another being emerges. A much more powerful one.

“Does it matter?” When he answers, there's magic in the air, sizzling with power. The blue of his eyes shimmers under the surface, ever so slightly. Jaskier’s heart clenches.

Not human.

Definitely not human.

“We never got to know each other, well,” Jaskier stalls. “I think now it’s not too late.”

He has an inkling that getting away will not be an easy feat. He can hope to distract this… this creature long enough for a chance to run. His hand tightens around the strap nervously, and the man’s eyes follow the movement without a beat.

Shit.

Jaskier turns to run, to take the lute case in his hands as a weapon, but it’s too late. The next thing he knows, the case is thrown against the ground and he’s backed against a tree. The other man’s grip around Jaskier’s wrists is like a vice, securing his hands right above him.

Jaskier wants to scream, but no sound escapes his throat. His body shakes all over, out of control.

“The fae never reveal our name easily,” the creature hisses.

Those blue eyes are too sharp and there’s a scent growing overwhelmingly strong. Fae, as it turns out, smell like newly cut grass and wildflowers, like the forest.

If only Jaskier can live long enough to share the trivia.

And then, with both their hands occupied, the fae presses his forehead to Jaskier. He struggles but to no avail.

The touch is cold and something is slipping into Jaskier’s mind like an icy stream in the spring. It trickles probs at every corner of his memories.

“Oh, even now you are loyal to the witcher. You still believe he’ll save you, little songbird.”

Jaskier’s vision turns fuzzy. His soundless whimpering breaks into breathless gasps, like a wounded animal waiting for a mercy kill. At the back of his mind, he’s achingly aware of Geralt’s absence. His witcher in shining armor won’t come this time, not after all the—

“All the pretty little lies. Every single one of them, born out of love, misguided.”

However true that statement is, Jaskier doesn’t want to hear it. His love for Geralt shouldn’t be spoken with malice. He fights against the fae’s iron hold with everything he can muster.

There’s a crack of bones before the pain hits him, exploding from his wrists all the way down his arms. Jaskier sobs, the edges of his vision darkening, the shock threatening to pull him under. He still can’t make a sound.

“What can we do?” The fae’s voice comes from a distant realm. “How can we have your loyalty as the witcher does? Oh, how fierce you are, songbird. To have your voice at our court… Perhaps, more lies will do. Yes, it was your choice, what your heart desired. A gift from us.”

Jaskier can’t process anything he’s hearing. He’s too tired from the searing pain in his wrists.

“Just a few lies. They’ll be easy to roll off the tongue, and yet, such powerful weapons.” The fae retreats. “A gift of lies. Thank you for the inspiration, Jaskier the bard. We hope you enjoy it as much as we will.”

Without the brute force holding up his body, Jaskier sagas against the tree, his legs unable to support his weight. His lungs burn and his mind turns fuzzy, bereft of the fae’s presence.

Jaskier needs to move, needs to scramble away from this place. But before the sweet relief of freedom even hits him, magic seizes him again and, finally, finally, a world-ending scream explodes from his lungs.

The world goes to black soon after.

 ~~

Jaskier wakes to someone shaking his shoulder, someone gentle.

His body pulses like a bruised nerve. The back of his head feels like it’s been trampled by a whole army and his neck creaks at the barest move. Jaskier’s nose is buried in damp grass and he chokes, which jostles his neck even more.

He groans miserably and tries to touch, only to be stopped by the burning in his wrists. He lets out a hiss.

Right, broken bones. Blue eyes that look the same as his. Fae.

“Careful… Fuck, Jaskier, what happened?”

A gravelly voice comes through the fog.

Geralt.

Oh, Jaskier can sob with relief. He arches his back, slowly propping himself up on his elbows. His eyes are so sore from lying on the ground face down, but the sight of his witcher is unmistakable.

Jaskier wants to call out for his witcher, but a sob is the only thing that gets out. He cradles his hands and finds his right wrist is swollen red and sensitive to the touch, but the left looks more or less the same. Only a throbbing pain tugging at his fingertips.

He reaches to the back of his head with his left hand, where the crick is prickling at his nerves, only to find a gash at his nape and hair caked with blood. He doesn’t remember hitting his head while falling. He doesn’t remember falling at all.

So, one wrist sprained, the other broken, plus a gaping hole in his head. Jaskier can cope.

If he doesn’t die from the embarrassment, that is. He whines pathetically, already exhausted.

“I told you not to move.” Geralt catches Jaskier’s tilting body. Amber gold flows with concern. “What happened to you, Jask?”

The question comes out soft, more of a whisper to the witcher himself than demanding answers. Jaskier’s lips wobble at the endearment. He needs to tell Geralt everything. Fuck his injured pride. Geralt came for him. This wonderful, beautiful, sweet man came to him after the disaster that is this morning and he’s still trying to help Jaskier.

All because Geralt is safety. He’s safety and home, and Jaskier needs to tell him—

“None of your business, witcher.”

It takes a moment for Jaskier to register what left his lips, the venom that drips from these words so foreign. He’s never aimed at Geralt before. From the looks of it, Geralt is equally startled if the tiny crease by his lips is any indication.

“You hit your head,” Geralt says patiently, hovering close to Jaskier’s face in an attempt to check the wound on his neck. “It’s bad. Here, let me see—”

“Get your filthy hands away from me!”

The words fly out on their own volition. Jaskier flinches, the same time as Geralt takes back his hand as if burned. He closes his mouth with a pop and the feeling of something severely wrong weighs down on his stomach. That’s not what he meant, not at all. The only thing he wants to do is lean into Geralt’s touch and melt into a puddle. Whyever did his mouth betray his heart? Why did he…

Why did he…

…Lie?

His mind focuses on a sing-songy voice.

A gift from us.

A gift of lies.

It’s like a bucket of ice water thrown over Jaskier’s head. He sobers up immediately. The inspiration they took from him. The fae’s gift.

The fae’s curse.

Geralt’s brows are knitted together, amber eyes imbued with hurt. He is still crouched in front of Jaskier, hands fisted at his side and shoulders taut. He’s got the look now, that lost look that only appears when a mob drives him out of town with pitchforks and stones. Jaskier has seen that look one too many times.

And now he's the one causing it.

“Jaskier?” Geralt asks, shocked, unsure.

Jaskier breathes hard and tastes the bile rising in his throat. Geralt doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve to have that hopeless look on his face or to be shunned by the world, by anyone, and least of all, by someone he’s let stay beside him for so many years. By the Gods, Jaskier needs to let Geralt know he’s the kindest person on earth and more human than any human. He’s Jaskier’s friend and protector, his dream, his heart—

“You are a mutant, a freak,” Jaskier feels the words slip out, too late to realize the mistake of opening his mouth. “No better than the monsters you slay.” The magic compels his tongue. He bites down on it but it’s only futile. “You feel nothing and give nothing but death to those around you.”

Jaskier recoils, tasting blood. In front of him, Geralt mirrors his movement. The entire time, the wolf medallion rests against his chest plate, Jaskier’s last hope, sitting still and unresponsive.

And Geralt…

He doesn’t defend himself.

Of course not. Geralt never defends himself against the stoning even when he can easily defeat most humans with his bare hands. There’s a faded scar near his hairline, a solid proof of men’s capacity for prejudice and violence.

Now Jaskier has joined their ranks.

Geralt looks like he’s been suck-punched in the gut, his eyes wide and crestfallen. And yet, wide amber eyes gaze upon Jaskier without accusation, only quiet acceptance. Jaskier shudders with disgust and fear, which must be the reason Geralt is backing away further.

“I’ll leave… If you—” he pauses, before standing up. “I see. This is goodbye, Jaskier.”

Don’t go!

“Get away then!”

Jaskier shakes his head, putting all the force he can muster into biting into his lips, scared of what may come out. His wrists burn but he has to force his mouth shut by pressing his palms over it.

Why can’t Geralt see that something’s wrong? Why can’t he see Jaskier?

See me! Jaskier pleads silently through the tears.

Geralt’s face falters as he spares one last glance at Jaskier.

Look what you’ve done to him, the sing-songy voice returns. This is your choice. You chose to lie, little poet. Be careful what you wish for.

Jaskier crumbles like a puppet with his strings cut. He barely contains the choked-out whimpers. The burning in his lungs is nothing compared to the anguish. He could die at this moment and it would be a sweet release. Hurting Geralt like this, it’s worse than a thousand broken bones and a million cuts on his skin. In the darkest corners of his mind, he wants Geralt to walk away from him. If Jaskier has to spew any more venom towards the man he’s loved for more than half of his life, he’d surely want to walk into the ocean and never come out.

He presses his ears to the grass and remembers the cold wind on the mountain. He was a fool to hope Geralt could come to him then. He is a fool now.

The witcher drags his feet away, one step after another, trampling the soft flora under him, and then—

And then, by some miracle, he stops.

Jaskier watches as his witcher turns around and rushes back to his side, his jaw clenched and eyes determined. His heart bursts with hope, but his fists press against his mouth harder. There’s more blood coating his tongue.

“I can’t,” Geralt states as he kneels next to Jaskier’s curled body. The betrayal in his eyes ebbs away and in its place is something…tortured.

Jaskier shakes his head, or is he trembling again? His vision swims with blood loss. He won’t be able to stay awake for long.

“I can’t leave you here, Jaskier,” he muses to himself, frowning deep. “Shit. You are bleeding again.”

Jaskier scoffs into his fist, almost hysterical.

“You are in shock, and you are about to pass out. I don’t know what happened, but your wrists are a mess. Jaskier…” The name comes out like a prayer. “I heard your wishes. Loud and clear, this time. I know you loathe my presence in your life, but… I have to make sure you’ll get better. Please, forgive me.”

Geralt tries to gently pry Jaskeir’s hands away, but he struggles blindly. Through the haze of his mind, Jaskier’s last thought reminds him to keep his mouth closed.

“Forgive me,” Geralt mutters in anguish, “I can’t let you hurt yourself because of me. Forgive me, just one more time.”

His hand makes the familiar sign of Axii, and everything turns…soft.

The pain is gone, the magical hold on his tongue too. Jaskier loses himself in the mellow sensation of giving up control. The ground disappears under his body and his head lolls against Geralt’s chest.

“I was wrong.” Regret rumbles deep in Geralt’s chest. “I was the curse that befell you. After all the hurt you’ve received by my side, Gods, and I still can’t keep myself away from you. I will not make the mistake of forcing myself into your life again, Jask. Allow me a few days to see you safe, and then... Never again.”

The vow is so wrong, but Jaskeir is powerless to protest. He catches a broken whisper before darkness claims him for the second time on the same day.

“I’m sorry, Jaskier. For my heart.”

Jaskier welcomes the oblivion that drags him under, as well as the nightmares that follow.

~~

I'm...sorry. 

One more chapter to go. Hopefully this time I won't have to up the chapter count. Some real communication and comfort are on the way! <3

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @a-kind-of-merry-war @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #lying spell #cursed jaskier #miscommunication #mutual pining #jaskier fucks up real good in this one #and bears the consequences #geralt x jaskier #again i'm sorry #i meant to end it with geralt walking away #and thought #in this economy? #but somehow this is... worse? #hurt jaskier #jaskier whump #hurt geralt #everytime i hurt geralt's heart i go 🥺🥺

[anika-ann]

Attached: Word Is that We Might Work It Out

Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series 

Pairing: professor!Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 6850🙈

Summary: You said yes to Professor Rogers – Steve – taking you out for ‘coffee’. Ball’s in your court – and you decide to make your move. 

A date, maybe first of many, maybe not. A date with the gorgeous professor who happened to read your erotica about him. What could possibly go wrong? 

Warnings:  alcohol consumption, professor-student relationship and unspecified age gap, language, lots of fluff

A/N: Timeline-wise, this one-shot fits in after chapter four of Attached!!! At the end, you can find the reason behind me writing this. You can consider it one big flashback, if you will 😅 Gif by capchrisevaans.

Series masterlist | previous in timeline

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

You lasted one day. One full day since the encounter in the office, since Professor Rogers admitted he would like to take you out for coffee or something similar. Since you two exchanged numbers.

It took you twenty-four hours – maybe less – to decide that so what if that might be a bad idea. It was not against the university rules and Professor Steve Rogers was a fucking specimen who also seemed to be a genuinely nice human being and if you allowed yourself to play chicken just because something only might go wrong in the future, you’d be an idiot.

Penny, your roomie, wholeheartedly agreed. She actually punched the air in victory as you were nursing a greasy lunch due to the wild-ish celebration of the end of the semester together the night prior and you just said to the void: “You know what, screw it. I’m gonna go for it.”

You didn’t even have to say what you were talking about – Professor Rogers had been the topic ever since the faithful Monday.

So you texted him that if the offer still stood, you’d like to meet up on Friday evening. Was he free?

Hey, Y/N :) Thank you for reaching out. Friday sounds great. Do you have anything specific in mind?

“Dude. He’s such a cutie. Who even texts like that?” Penny chuckled, a wide grin on her face as you couldn’t but read the text out loud.

“I texted him like that.”

“Touché. Because you want to impress mister ‘hot as fuck intellectual’ there.”

You just rolled your eyes, neither confirming nor denying. Mostly because Penny was right. But he was the first to use an emoji and… yeah, cutie indeed.

Well, I never say no to dinner and I’m down for almost anything-

“I bet you are,” Penny hummed to your ear and you swung after her blindly and thought of a better phrasing.

Well, I never say no to a dinner and I’m not picky. You choose. Seven-ish sounds good?

“Spoilsport.”

“Stop reading over my shoulder!” you chuckled and bit your lip as the answer came almost immediately.

Seven is alright. I’ll think of something to treat a girl right ;)

Your stomach made a small somersault, your face instantly radiating heat at the possible innuendo. The phone vibrated again before you could fully process the image your mind painted of him actually saying it in his gentle timbre.

Just so we’re clear, what is the nature of the dinner? It can be whatever you feel comfortable with.

Your heart leaped into your throat, hammering wildly.

That was the question, wasn’t it? Since you texted him, you made one thing clear with yourself. If you were doing this, it was going to be a date. You wouldn’t be doing things by halves.

Penny next to you made a noise that sounded as something between an aww and her gagging on nothing. “He’s disgustingly considerate for a man his age planning on going out with a girl your age.”

“He’s not that much older,” you protested instantly, frowning. He wasn’t. She knew that; you had both done your research. “And I think it’s amazing.”

You caught Penny’s smile from the corner of your eye as you typed.

“Well, it is kinda sweet. And I know he’s not, I’m messing with you. It’s just-- DON’T SEND HIM THAT!”

“Why?” you questioned, looking at her quizzically and totally clicking on send on purpose at the same time.

I’d be comfortable with a date if you are.

“It’s so lame. Of course he’s comfortable with a date, he suggested it. Duh.”

The reply came way too fast and Penny chuckled behind you as your jaw went slack.

“You know what? Don’t mind me. Good job. Keep it up,” Penny patted your shoulder as you stared at the screen where Professor Steven Grant Rogers just texted you a damn heart.

It’s a date <3

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

It was a date indeed.

Steve texted you an address on Friday morning (along with an adorable good morning :) ), apologizing that he couldn’t pick you up, making sure you’d be alright getting there on your own. You found it absolutely sweet, considerate and smart. You suspected that his ‘inability’ to pick you up had something to do with the fact that you lived at the dorms and if he showed up there, it would be trending in the university chit-chat room within five minutes.

You spent a better part of the Friday afternoon researching the place and the weather forecast so you could dress accordingly and getting ready.

You were not ready for a date with Steve Rogers however; your nerves were a mess and nothing could ever prepare you for when he showed up perfectly on time in front of the restaurant---- wearing a suit no less.

How were you supposed to function when he was wearing such elegant clothing, a suit he filled up so fucking well?! And he looked just as breath-taking as always, stupidly perfect beard and slightly tousled hair you just wanted to run your fingers through and his smile was so gorgeous and--- Jesus Fucking Christ, the suit- how could you even put words together when looking at him-

“Wow, I feel so underdressed now.”

Clearly, you could speak just fine, only you lost your brain-to-mouth filter. Also, your mouth might have started watering and your heart was pounding like crazy. You would not survive tonight.

But, you also had a point. The restaurant was supposed to be a nice place, but relatively plain. And he showed up in amazingly fitting dress pants, white shirt, a tie and a suit jacket. So yes, you did feel underdressed.

“Oh no, no! You’re not,” he rushed to reassure you, eyeing your semi-leisure white dress with burgundy flowers with an attentive gaze that had you shifting your weight nervously. “I’m overdressed if anything. Sticking out like a sore thumb, I’m sorry.”

You could always just strip the suit jacket, was your first thought, but luckily for you, this time you managed to contain the words before they got out to the open.

“You’re fine,” you said instead, not knowing how else to react; needless to say you were grateful for the smile he gave you despite the double meaning.

Yes, he was fine indeed. Always. It was unfair, really.

“Thanks. You too. In fact, you look beautiful.”

Your heart stopped in your chest, your mind suddenly racing a mile per minute.

It was ridiculous. It was just a word. But for one, it was spoken so kindly and genuinely you couldn’t but think he meant it, for two, it was Professor Steve Rogers who told you that and--- beautiful.

You couldn’t remember a guy ever calling you beautiful.

Cute? Sure. Pretty? Maybe. Hot? Might have happened once or twice . But beautiful?

You might actually swoon.

And you were so lost in your head that you couldn’t but silently stare at the lethally handsome man in front of you and then it again registered in your brain that this was your fucking crush speaking to you and he was on a date with you and he had read your erotica, one that was about him no less-

Your face was set aflame in an instant and you… you couldn’t let out a word.

“It everything okay? Did I… did I say something wrong?” Steve asked hesitantly, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows and it reminded you of all the times you had seen him wearing such thoughtful expression in the two classes he taught instead of Professor Barnes and-

You were screwed.

Tonight was going to be a disaster.

“No, uhm, no, sorry--- maybe we should go inside or-“ you muttered, lightly gesturing towards the door and could you get any more awkward?

“Yeah, sure, sounds good.”

He let you walk in first like a real gentleman, the lightest skim of his fingers on your lower back, which caused your heartbeat to skyrocket; and only when the hostess seated you, you realized you never accepted his kind compliment.

It was too late for that now, you assumed, so you sipped at the still water which waited at each table, and repeated like a mantra to yourself that you needed to get your shit together otherwise you’d ruin your shot before the night even started.

But clearly, you succeeded at that already.

Whatever awkward aura you had around yourself, it seemed to extend now to him too – he shifted slightly in his seat (he had pulled out your chair for you before, because of course he had), his shoulders stiff. Despite that, he smiled at you over the menu.

“So… all exams worked out? Enjoying the freedom?” he asked casually.

“Oh, yes. Yeah.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” you uttered with a forced smile, your stomach twisted unpleasantly.  

For some reason, you felt like you were having a lame attempt at small talk with a professor, which you were, but it wasn’t supposed to be like that.

Not tonight. Not on a date.

What were you even doing here? What were you playing at? Professor Steve Rogers was entirely out of your league, gorgeous, funny, kind and smart and here you were, barely making conversation.

It was pathetic really. It was embarrassing for both of you.

“You up to anything fun?” he queried, the question less enthusiastic than the one before. He was already growing tired of making your uncooperative brain work at least a bit, it was obvious.

Your gulped as the memory of last night popped in your head – staying in, quiet evening, in a mood for some dirty writing--- oh bless, another reminder of why this dinner was and should be really weird.

Steve read your smutty story. The one about him.

“Nothing special,” you squealed silently, earning a plain nod. “Eh, we went out with Penny, my roommate and best friend in one person. But mostly I just stayed in and--- caught up on sleeping.”

“I know what that’s like,” Steve hummed, clearly as grateful as you were when the waiter appeared by your table to take your orders.

Silence stretched as the man left, your hand beginning to fiddle with the neatly folded napkin on the table, lump growing in your throat due to your nerves.

“What about you? Anything… fun?” you asked reluctantly, noticing a brief smile passing Steve’s lips. Pretty, sinfully pretty lips. Perfect. Untouchable for mere mortals like you.

“Oh, not much. Few exam sittings, faculty meetings – we had one now, hence the suit-“

“You came here right from school?” you blurted out, startled – and clearly surprising him with your rudeness. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Yes, I did. We have a meeting every last Friday of the month.”

“Oh my god, you must be so tired,” you sympathized with him quietly, the uneasy feeling in your stomach only growing. He came here straight from work and for this? “Why didn’t you say something? We could have postponed or something.”

Steve swiftly shook his head, his warm hand landing on yours, gently stopping your restless fingers. This time, it was butterflies in your stomach erupting with life, the sweet comforting gesture warming your heart. He wanted to be here. He came here for you. He was interested in you.

And the feeling was mutual. So why was it being so weird then?

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m glad you reached out. I’m glad that you said yes in the first place,” he admitted, features softening despite the tension in his shoulders never leaving. His brows furrowed as he slowly withdrew his hand – it must have been an automatic reaction then. “I’m not that tired and… and maybe I was little worried that if I asked for a different date, then…”

He trailed off and your lips parted in surprise, your heart swelling in your chest at what he was implying.

Did he think you’d back out? Did he think that all the potential obstacles intimidated you too much? That you’d think it wasn’t worth it? That it wouldn’t work out anyway?

Seeing as you were now, you couldn’t blame him. Despite him being the world’s most charming man, here you were, being… not at all yourself, stressing for no reason.

It seemed to you that had had chemistry, back there in his office. This date made sense. When you imagined how this could unfold, well, it went a bit differently too. There was considerably less embarrassment going around.

This was why you preferred writing to speaking. That’s why you liked daydreaming. Because reality was often less than ideal, no script, awkward silences, misunderstandings…

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your food arrived.

You both thanked the waiter politely and you hoped that at least now you’d have a good excuse for the lack of normal conversation.

“What are you sorry for?”

You sighed and nibbled on your lower lip, not missing the way his gaze instinctively flickered there, pupils dilating just a fraction – but enough for you to notice. Your heart skipped a pleased beat – but the undeniable physical attraction couldn’t be enough.

“For this,” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. His features twisted in disappointment and something that looked a lot like regret flashed in his eyes. “I want to be here, Steve. I really do. I don’t know what’s wrong with me-“

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you,” he was quick to oppose and you couldn’t help it as a wry chuckle escaped you.

“Well, there’s certainly nothing wrong with you. And still, there’s this…”

“…tension?”

You wished.

“Sort of? But not the fun kind, for sure.”

He grimaced, but a spark of amusement lit up his blue irises. “Awkward air around us?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed victoriously as he voiced exactly what you were thinking. Then you quickly lowered your voice, looking around. Luckily, no one stared at you. You realized you leaned closer to him over the table, your heart racing at that, but you didn’t withdraw; it was a lovely opportunity to get even a better look at his perfect face. “But I don’t know why!” You knew why. “I like you, Steve-“

“I like you too. And I know I already said that, but you look stunning.”

Your cheeks burned again, but this time, you managed to stutter out a thank you at least. Stunning, Jesus, was he for real?

“T-thank you. You look incredibly handsome too. Then again you always do—why did I say that.”

One corner of his lips quirked up.

“Why thank you, I’m glad you did. The feeling’s mutual, believe me.”

“Then why does this feel like one of the most awkward dates I’ve ever been to?!” you whisper-yelled, causing him to chuckle, the tips of his ears turning red.

His hand once again landed on yours, this time deliberately, the gesture warming you in more than one way.

“Well… I’m nervous. You might be too.” You hummed in agreement. Was that all it was? “But the way you said it, at least it seems to me that it could have been worse, right? More awkward?”

You felt the corners of your lips rise at the remark, shrugging. He had a point there. And he squeezed your hand a bit and good Lord, it should not be making your heart race so much, but he was touching you and he was being really sweet and his fingers were nice and warm and long-

“Tell me.”

You blinked in surprise, realizing you had been staring at your joined hands. You raised your gaze, finding him watching you with a subtle smile.

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me about the most awkward date you have ever been to,” he clarified, his thumb caressing your wrist.

You only hesitated for a beat before you nodded in agreement, god knew why. Perhaps you did need a reminder that this could have gone much more disastrously and it was mostly your traitorous brain telling you that you were messing everything up.

Plus, Steve deserved whatever he wanted – so far, he was the only reason this date wasn’t as disastrous as it could be.

“Okay. You ever been to a speed dating event, Steve? Because I have.”

“Oh, this is ought to be good,” he noted with another squeeze to your hand, before he released you. Shame. He sipped at his wine and dug into his pasta. “I’m all ears.”

This is ought to be good, Steve said. Well, maybe. You certainly hadn’t thought so at the time.

Explaining to Steve that as you had been under duress from no other than Penny, you both went to the event which promised you meeting ten dashing men in only an hour. You’d get five minutes with each, as anonymous as you’d wished to be, receiving a folder with nothing but a table with the first names of the men and a yes and no option and a line for your own notes about them.

You weren’t sure what to think of it – but after three epically failed Tinder attempts, you agreed to try. If nothing else, you’d gain a new experience.

And an experience had it been. You even lasted a month with one of the guys, but you didn’t tell Steve that. It wasn’t important.

André was.

André Whatever-was-his-last-name – because that was how it worked, no last names – definitely believed he was important. With the guys moving around the tables from one woman to another, spending five minutes with each, you could already hear André closing to your station from two tables over.

He was hard to tune out, courtesy of the colour of his voice, extremely unpleasant to your ears, and him never letting the woman he faced talk. Always interrupting. Always turning the conversation around so it would be about him.

Asshole.

You liked to think you weren’t quick to judge people, but André was making you cringe before you were even introduced. And then you actually were.

A minute into his monologue to you, you felt like you were being tortured.

And then the waitress managed to stumble and spill a glass of white wine – partly over your table, but mostly on the floor. At least she caught the glass and you had but a tiny spot on your dress.

“She was apologizing so profusely and I wasn’t thinking, okay. I went for the napkins few tables over to help and— I didn’t realize I put the open folder down for everyone to see,” you explained, feeling like face-palming when you remembered the night.

Steve watched you in anticipation, a small smirk and a knowing look on his face as he guessed you had already circled ‘no’ for André at the time.

Oh, you wished it were that simple. You felt your cheeks burn hot as you continued.

“André read it, of course. Obviously, he already got a hard ‘no’ from me, but… I might have written a tiny note for myself as to why,” you admitted and Steve’s eyebrow rose minutely, his curiosity piqued even more.

You took a deep breath.

“I wasn’t exactly kind to him. It was something along the lines of self-important asshole who probably compensated for something.” Steve huffed in amusement. But oh, if he only knew... you sighed and continued. “And If Draco Malfoy and Gilderoy Lockhart had a love child, this would be him.”

No sound came from your companion this time and your teeth anxiously sank into our lower lip, your pulse wavering. What was Steve thinking? Did he think you had been rude? Mean even? Nerdy? All of the above?

He stared at you for full three seconds, clearly rendered speechless by your harsh judgement.

And then he burst out laughing.

Suffocating weight fell from your shoulders and you silently joined him as you explained yourself.

“I was in my Harry Potter phase! And in my defence, I think it was actually pretty accurate...”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, sweetheart,” Steve chuckled lightly before laughing some more, irises twinkling with amusement and something… softer.

You shuddered upon hearing the endearment spill unwittingly from his lips, upon seeing the emotion on his face.  And maybe you were a little proud of yourself for making him laugh and lose the tension in his shoulders completely.

“It was one of the longest and most awkward three minutes of my life, the silence that followed,” you huffed, massaging your forehead. “He did not appreciate the comparison.”

“I bet,” Steve cackled, taking another bite of his meal, smile playing in the corner of his lips as he swallowed and continued. “But you’ve got to give it to him, he knew his Harry Potter characters.”

“Ha! My thoughts exactly. But that’s a little bit of weak base for dating, I think, especially since I kinda already hated him.”

“Oh, you did? I didn’t catch that,” Steve joked lightly, causing you to smile despite the horrid memory.

And funnily enough, telling him and remembering it… it did make you feel better and more at ease with him.

“Ha ha ha, laugh it up, Professor. Your turn.”

“I’m sorry?” he said, clearly puzzled. It didn’t escape your notice as his voice faltered, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the addressing.

Oh, so that’ s still a thing. You couldn’t but smirk a bit at that.

“An awkward date. You have to share now, it’s only fair,” you shrugged, only for a terrible realization to dawn on you. “Please tell me there is at least one awkward date story, Steve. Tell me this isn’t really your worst date ever.”

He shook his head with a soft chuckle.

“Oh, there’s plenty. I’m just trying to think about one that won’t scare you away from me. I’d hate that.”

One corner of his lips raised, he looked you up and down, lingering on your lips for a bit before meeting your gaze, something you could only hope was fondness and wanton in his eyes. Your breath hitched, heat pooling in your abdomen at the thorough onceover despite the gentle tone of his voice.

Fuck how could he make you feel hot and soft at the same time.

Unable to stand the intensity of his stare, you lowered your gaze and gulped, your stomach making an excited slip. He did want you. You had been being silly, letting your nerves get the better of you.

Clearing your throat, you willed yourself to look up, finding him still watching closely – and perhaps, there was a hint of a red to his cheeks, the tip of his ears burning as if despite the blatant flirting, he was unsure of himself too, because he didn’t want to mess up with you either.

You found it absolutely endearing and your heart swelled. The way you got to see there was more to him than his professor side and his dashing looks… you felt incredibly lucky. The more you got to interact with him, the more it wasn’t just your sinful thoughts belonging to him – he was quickly working on stealing your heart as well.

Plucking up your courage, you were the one to reach out this time, carefully sweeping your thumb over the back of his hand, smiling.

“I’m not scared off all that easily, Steve.”

He mirrored your genuine smile, a glint of something you couldn’t read lighting up his eyes.

“That’s good to know,” he said lowly and sighed, narrowing his eyes as if he was assessing you again. “Alright, here goes…”

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

You actually managed to get one more awkward date story from Steve, because frankly, his experiences were hilarious. And surprise surprise, he was a great narrator. Plus, while he talked, you could ogle him shamelessly without fear of looking strange.

But you guessed that since you were on a date, you could ogle him anyway. He didn’t seem to mind; in fact, whenever he got the opportunity, he reciprocated it. It finally did feel like a date, the air growing thicker as you gradually shifted closer and closer, the light touches prolonging, feet meeting under the table without parting as soon as they made contact.

Your belly kept warming up with each smile and laugh, with every second of the intense eye contact, with every flicker of his gaze to your lips and vice versa. Sharing a dessert was a terrible idea, because you wanted kiss the crumbs sticking on his lips away. You teased each other, you complimented each other – with Steve absolutely winning the undeclared contest – and you realized that despite sharing your most embarrassing dates with each other at the beginning, this was the absolute best you had ever been to.

And you didn’t want it to end.

The light sweater you had brought with you did nothing to shield you from the surprisingly lukewarm wind. As you wandered the streets, Steve finally heard out one of your first thoughts you had had when meeting him today – he shrugged off his suit jacket.

Which… yum. The seams of his shirt were crying for help and you could only think fo one way of helping them – taking his shirt off too. But alas, Steve didn’t continue the striptease, probably because you were on the street. Instead, he did the most wholesome thing and held out the jacket for you to slip into.

You only hesitated a moment, teeth sinking into your lower lip. How could you say no to that?

“That’s awfully cliché and really sweet at the same time,” you muttered, causing him to shrug, one corner of his lips raised in a smirk as he helped you put it on, forefinger most definitely deliberately caressing the side of your throat before withdrawing.

A shudder ran down your spine, electrifying feeling going straight to your core. The whiff of whatever cologne he was wearing enveloped you, clouding your senses. Goddammit he smelled so good.

“Maybe I just want to see you in my clothes,” he hummed, the suggestive remark knocking the breath straight out of your lungs.

Stepping to your side from behind your back, you caught a glimpse of his expression – a little bit smug, a little bit panicked as it probably registered with him just how much suggestive it was, perhaps crossing a line.

It was absolutely not crossing the line, because the thought of wearing his clothes, preferably grabbing it because you couldn’t find yours after you threw it all around the room as you frantically stripped each other was making your head spin in the best way.

“Maybe I’d really enjoy wearing your clothes after you rip off mine.”

Steve’s jaw went slack, a choked noise leaving him and you couldn’t but laugh at his dumbstruck expression. Surprise, professor, you little shit. I can keep up.

“That was… mean,” he said, clearing his throat. Your eyebrows rose, pot calling the kettle back style. “But I see how I deserved that.”

“Damn right… but that doesn’t mean it’s a lie,” you shrugged, chuckling at the exasperated look he shot you.

‘Man, she’s gonna fuck you up on a whole new level and I’ll be here for it in the front row with a bowl of popcorn,’ Barnes’ words to Steve which you weren’t meant to hear echoed in your head, making you grin.

The teasing was intense, yet you felt comfortable in it. You blamed Steve and his nature – he already felt like a guy to go lengths to make you feel at ease enough; the way he had kept insisting on you choosing whether this was a date or not only proved it. He made it easy to be yourself, making you feel like you could.

And he made it perfectly clear that he was enjoying seeing you like that, that he appreciated you as you were.

But the closer you got to the campus, the more the reality was settling in, your laughter fading, butterflies and heat replaced by anxiety. He was still a professor. If you went for it, it wouldn’t always be uncomplicated like this. The awkwardness crept in as your steps grew slower, the inevitable arriving.

He couldn’t walk you home, to walk you to the dorm, even if the desire to do so radiated from every fibre of his being. He couldn’t do that for the same reason he hadn’t picked you up.

You came to a stop, feeling like there was this invisible border to a safe, students-free part of the city, the line you couldn’t cross side by side.

“So, uhm… this is it, huh?” Steve hummed, grim. You appreciated the lame attempt at a smile though and reciprocated, turning to face him.

“Looks like it.”

Heavy silence settled over you pair. Your eyes trailed all over him, lingering on his face, noting as he did the same. He was beautiful; you didn’t care you should say that about a man. He was. The light in his eyes dimmed compared to that just a few moments ago, but it was still there, expression soft, almost as soft as his beard looked, causing your fingers to twitch in need to run them over it and pull him in for a kiss.

Your lips tingled as the idea. You had never kissed a man with a beard and you wanted to know how it felt. The fact it was Steve only sealed the deal and made the need grow exponentially.

You wanted to kiss him so bad. But here you stood, unable to move, unable to speak. You sighed.

“Would you-“ “I want to-“

“Sorry,” you and him said at the same time again, laughing it off quietly, your fingers running through your hair.

Your stomach clenched when you noticed his eyes following the movement almost wistfully.

“You go first,” he prompted you gently.

You didn’t argue – if you learned one thing tonight, it was that Steve was a gentleman and that was so rare these days that you wouldn’t want to discourage him from being that way. Even if you really wanted to know what he was about to say, as soon as possible.

“I… I just want to say thank you. For the… for the date. I had a good time, so I hope you had too, at least a little,” you offered lamely, feeling blood rushing to your cheeks.

Like a schoolgirl blushing in front of her professor. Jesus, why were you being like this again.

Steve didn’t seem to find you as awkward as you felt however, your name slipping from his lips, kind and soft.

“I had a very good time. You’re amazing.” Your lips parted at the blatant and genuine compliment. His eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, that came out so strong, I didn’t mean to put you in spot like that-“

Stronger than ‘maybe I just want to see you in my clothes?’ you asked yourself. No, you didn’t think so. It was just that the playfulness had left at least two blocks back.

This felt more serious. More intimate.

“Ditto,” you whispered, gracing him with a shy smile he instantly mirrored. “But hey, I already knew that, so…”

He chuckled, shaking his head lightly, his smile only growing. When he looked at you again, his eyes were the beautiful warm blue that made you weak in the knees.

“Would you like to do something like that again?” he queried lowly.

Yes. YES. YES PLEASE. Minus the awkwardness at the beginning and the one a moment ago, preferably.  

“Yeah. I’d like that,” you agreed simply, taking note of how his face lit up even more.

How could a man be so indescribably hot and yet adorable enough to tug at your heartstrings?

“Good. I’m glad.”

He tugged at your hand unexpectedly, pulling you to your left, his other hand steadying you by gently grasping your forearm.

Before you could question his actions, a pair of men swaying in a drunken haze passed you, having no care in the world for whom they might crash into.

“Thanks,” blurted out lowly, sparing a second to shoot their backs a dirty glare.

But Steve’s hands were still on you, distracting, as you stood face to face, chest to chest, a little too close, a little too far. Your heart sped up in your ribcage, breathing picking up in anticipation. So close…

But all Steve did was to squeeze your forearm reassuringly, lifting your joined hands to his face.

Just like the day you agreed to get coffee with him, he kissed your knuckles, only this time it was much firmer. His smile was sweet and utterly irresistible as he kept looking at your face and you felt all the worries about the future melt away once again.

He was so precious and this felt so right and--- you didn’t want him to kiss your hand.

Well, you wanted it, but you wanted more too.

You had been aching to kiss that mouth since you had first set eyes on him, on that inhumanly gorgeous and hot creature. You were on a date, you both had a great time and clearly he was giving you the opportunity to decide how far you wanted to take this, because as much as every little touch of his made to crazy, the displays of affection were positively chaste.

And you wanted to take it very very far.

Your rational brain wouldn’t let you just hop into sac with him today, but fuck, you could do with a kiss. You wanted to feel that perfectly trimmed beard of his and you wanted to taste him.

Did he?

You stepped even closer as he let go of your hand, distracting you minutely; due to the sudden proximity, it landed on his chest and Jesus fucking Christ he was firm.

Your fingers clutched at the white fabric of his shirt as you observed his face, your gaze inevitably flickering to his lips. Glancing up once more to find him still watching you intently, pupils dilated, your breath caught in your throat, heat stirring in your belly.

Rising to your tiptoes, you gripped the fabric tighter and shortly pressed your lips to his.

It was a funny feeling – lips hot, soft and slightly chapped, a stark contrast to the beard, less rough than you expected, leaving a tingly sensation behind. It was different; exciting and addicting. Before he could react and before you could think twice, you kissed him again, this time lingering for a few seconds, your eyelids falling shut.

Your heart fluttered when you felt his lips reluctantly respond just as you withdrew, his grip on your arm tightening. You ran your tongue over your lips to savour the feeling, mouth instinctively curling up in a smile, gaze meeting his.

Little wrinkles appeared around his eyes as he smiled as well.

“You okay?”

You nodded, almost too eagerly, lowering back to your whole feet. Involuntarily, your gaze flickered to his mouth again, wanting more.

“Uhm… beard,” you piped up unhelpfully, pressing your lips together as soon as the admission left them.

Steve’s smile widened as he once again grasped your hand, leading it to cup his face – not before he dropped a kiss to your palm.

You almost let out a very embarrassing whine at the curious sensation, your mind, still enveloped in Steve’s warmth and cologne, wondering how the beard would feel elsewhere.

Your fingers unwittingly caressed the hair, thumb brushing his lips, unable to resist.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, lips parting, hot breath fanning over your skin as watched you.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed out and that was it – you pressed against the soft swollen flesh at the pet name, causing a low grumble echo in Steve’s chest.

And then his hand slid to your waist, the other sinking into your hair, and he pulled up into a kiss that had nothing to do with how patient he had been before. He was still a gentleman, but it was a close call – he angled your head to his liking, his lips dancing with yours in a sensual dance with just a tease of tongue licking at the seam of your lips, causing you to sigh in bliss, granting him access.

He hummed appreciatively, the sound shaking your bones as he held you flat against him, the heat of his body seeping into yours – as if every nerve ending in your body wasn’t on fire already. He breathed you in, consumed you entirely – there were no other words for it.

There weren’t many words you could think of to begin with, too busy feeling his broad shoulders under your palm, fingers roaming to find the soft hair at his nape, revelling at the taste of him, just a smidge of tongue and you wanted more, your insides twisting in need--- and oh, your back was pressed against a wall now.

You let out a small startled sound which Steve instantly swallowed – but it was a good wake up call for you both. The motions of his lips slowed, softened, a gentle caress more than anything, his thumb stroking your cheek.

Breathless, you chased after his mouth when he retreated, earning one small peck and then another. He rested his forehead against yours, nose briefly skimming yours, causing you to smile and meet his gaze.

“Sorry,” he muttered and you genuinely wanted to slap his arm or something for apologizing for that. Because you knew what you’d be thinking about for the next few hours, days even, hell, probably weeks. “For springing out like that. I just… wanted to do that for a long time.”

The admission had your heart skip a beat and you couldn’t but lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth – and nope, you weren’t over how it felt, his beard against your lips. You wouldn’t be over it for a long time, you suspected.

“Me too.”

“So… we’re doing this again, right?“

You smirked up at him as he reluctantly released you. “You springing out like that or-“

“Don’t test me, babygirl,” he nearly growled, causing your eyes going wide as saucers, feeling as if you were sucker punched to your gut – and liked it.

Babygirl. Jesus, he was going to be the death of you.

“You can spring out like that again too,” you chimed, your voice sounding a bit strangled, because holy shit he just called you that. His gaze flickered all over your face, a shade darker than before. Your underwear was thoroughly ruined with that single look… and the earlier make-out session. “But if we’re talking second dates, I’d definitely do that too.”

He huffed and shook his head, a chuckle escaping him.

“You’re a minx…. I think I like it.”

You grinned at him and then sighed regretfully, reaching to slip off the jacket, which made him frown.

“You could give it back later.”

“Don’t tempt me… don’t want to rob you of it--- and there would be questions,” you explained, knowing that even walking around the campus like what would raise rumours of god knew what.

Like, maybe someone would think some gentleman like Professor Steve Rogers himself lent it to you or something, gee, where would that come from...

Steve nodded in understanding, accepting the jacket and shrugging it on.

“Plus, I’m thoroughly warmed up,” you added cheekily, causing him to chuckle incredulously again. With a sigh, he leaned in, cradling your jaw in one large hand and pressed a sweet lingering kiss to your forehead.

You could melt on spot.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. Let me know when you get home safe?” he asked of you gently, tugging at your heartstrings some more, because of course he did.

“I will. You too?”

His smile was soft and sweet as he promised to do so, clearly touched by your care. Well, that made two of you.

“Goodnight, Steve. Thank you for tonight.”

“Thank you.”

You breathed in deeply, dropping a last kiss to his cheek and quickly spun on your heels to walk away – because if you wavered a second longer, you might have not left at all.

Sure, you looked back at him several times, finding him standing where you had left him, his eyes following your receding figure. But you kept walking.

And once you couldn’t see him anymore, you broke into a fit of giggles, hiding your face in your palms to muffle your delighted squeal.

You were just coming back to the dorms from the date with Steve Rogers.

And despite the hiccups, it was the best damn thing in the world, leaving you giddy and already craving another date and more. Your cheeks hurt from smiling by the time you made it to the dorms, your heart pounding excitedly the whole time.

As promised, you let Steve know you made there safe, earning another text with a heart. It only made you squeal again, fingers frantic as you replied – and with a kiss for goodnight so he knew you truly enjoyed your night, ending included.

What he didn’t know was that maybe, just maybe, the next evening you wrote a tiny story in which you elaborated at what could happen if he ever pushed you against a wall and kissed your breathless ever again.

And hopefully, he would.

Soon.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Attached masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

...how it happened? I was asked about the first date, very kindly and in a no pressure manner.

S: Hey, just out of curiosity, you don’t really have to answer… how do you imagine their first date went?

me: Hm, let me think, I guess, mm, it would be like this--- oh shit. Oh no. It’s gonna be a fic again, isn’t it? Maybe I could finally write a headcanon or a drabble--- sigh.

As if I could ever.

Thank you for reading :-*

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #professor steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #captain america au #modern au #professor au #college au #steve rogers #captain america #student reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #word is that we might work it out #attached #attached: word is that we might work it out #anika ann

[cloversdreams]

spur of the moment proposal for ryukasa?

aaaaa the otp for the series... bless <3<3

-

“And that’s not even the funniest thing Senku did this week. He–” Gen paused mid story and frowned. “Dear Tsukasa, are you even listening?”

“Not really,” Tsukasa admitted. He watched Gen’s frown deepen at his blunt response. These lunches of theirs were usually a lot more engaging but he couldn’t really focus right now. He took a sip of his drink then sighed, “Sorry, my mind is a bit preoccupied.”

Gen set his elbows on the table and intertwined his fingers. He rested his chin upon them then hummed, “A little birdy told me that you’ve recently been proposed to... a lot.”

“Yeah, Ryusui has asked once a day for the past week.” Tsukasa nodded.

“And you’ve been saying no?” Gen gasped, his disbelief palpable. “Aren’t you madly in love with him?”

“That’s not even up for debate,” Tsukasa declared with the utmost confidence. “He is my heart.”

“And yet...?” Gen stirred his drink slowly and kept his gaze upon the dark-haired man.

Tsukasa shifted in his seat. His brow furrowed as he thought about it. He finally gathered his thoughts and said, “The moment just hasn’t seemed right somehow.”

Gen brought his drink to his lips, paused, then replied, “I don’t follow.”

“There should be some majesty to a moment like that,” Tsukasa explained, “A certain something that makes the scene unforgettable. I’ll know it when I feel it.”

“You’re a hopeless romantic, Tsukasa Shishio!” Gen laughed. He smiled from ear to ear as he added, “I have the utmost confidence that you’ll get that moment you seek.”

♡ ♡ ♡

Tsukasa thought about his and Gen’s conversation the whole way home. Maybe he was being ridiculous. He loved Ryusui more than anything, of course he wanted to be together forever. But there was always something special about the moments in which he decided to make a big decision regarding the blond.

Deciding to date? Yep, special. Moving in together. Yep, he wouldn’t forget that one either. Adopting a cat together? No memory could top that one yet. All that considered, perhaps he was simply a creature of habit. Tsukasa really didn’t know if that was an excuse.

He unlocked the front door and stepped into their shared home. Almost immediately he was greeted with a happy trill. A warm smile spread across his face and he pet the beige Scottish Fold rubbing against his ankles. He scratched under her chin and she meowed loudly. Not a moment later she took off like a rocket in some random direction. He chuckled and shook his head. She certainly was in high spirits tonight.

Tsukasa wandered through their home until he happened upon something quite strange indeed. The lights were on in the kitchen. He was the only one that actually used that, so he had no idea what to expect as he stepped into the room. He blinked a few times at the sight of Ryusui standing near the stove. That was new.

As soon as the blond noticed him he spun around and exclaimed, “Welcome back! I tried to cook you a romantic dinner and failed brilliantly, if I do say so myself!” Ryusui put his hands on his hips and laughed loudly. 

He pointed a mixing spoon at Tsukasa then declared, “I can’t decide if we should order pizza or Chinese. I asked Kiara but she said tuna and I don’t think anyone but her would be interested in that. Plus we have some in the cabinet so it really wasn’t a helpful suggestion on any level.”

Ryusui continued to ramble on but Tsukasa honestly didn’t hear a word of it. The blond’s hair was a mess, the kitchen was a complete disaster, and there were mysterious stains on him everywhere but the apron he wore. Whatever he was talking about had him smiling like an idiot. 

This was it. The moment Tsukasa had been waiting for. It was the most mundane, everyday thing and yet he’d never been more in love. Because every day with Ryusui was memorable. They were all special in some way. He had no idea why he hadn’t realized that earlier. He never wanted their time together to end.

Tsukasa took three large strides over to the blond and wrapped his arms around him. He buried his face in Ryusui’s neck and muttered, “Say you’ll marry me.”

“You’ll marry me.” Ryusui repeated without missing a beat.

“Ryusui...”

Ryusui laughed and squeezed him with just as much enthusiasm as he was being squeezed. The smile could be heard in his voice as he exclaimed, “Of course I will!”

#dr. stone #ryukasa #tsukasui #tsukasa shishio #Ryusui Nanami #gen asagiri #tsukasa x ryusui #warmandfluffybingo #dr stone #these twoooooo -yells- #long post

[vanserraseris]

END OF PART I - Literally can’t believe I just sat here and posted that 500 characters at a time lol I hope you’re not too disappointed with this, I’m well aware it’s a bit of a disaster but it’s been real nice sending it to you :))

haha its unreal but i loved it sm!!! thanks for sending <3 btw if you want to send me a summary, i can add it into the masterlist!

here’s part 1 in full!

Prince of Ashes. Part I.

masterlist.

Eris could feel his heart beating as he ran through the halls of The Forest House. His breaths were unsteady and panicked, but he tried to school his features into a mask of calm in case he ran into his father. He adjusted the sword at his side, had grabbed the weapon and shoved it messily in his belt as he’d rushed out of his room. The torches he passed along the walls flared brightly, as if in warning. Eris hoped his father hadn’t done anything foolish.

The rumble of magic that had passed through the estate could only mean something horrible had happened. Eris didn’t slow down as he practically slammed through the doors of his mother’s chambers, not caring that he hadn’t bothered to put a tunic over his thin undershirt and knowing he looked ridiculous in an old pair of brown leather boots.

Eris paused at what he saw once he spotted the woman who’d raised him. He was not expecting his mother to be weeping at the healthy babe in her arms, her shoulders hunched as her breath hitched every so often.

Eris had perfected his carefully crafted image. He was the Tamer of Flames, the Heir of Autumn, the Prince of Ashes. He was calculated and hateful on his good days, cruel and horrible on his bad days. He wanted to be a son his father could be proud of, and he wanted to be a son his mother could look in the eye. As he stood in the doorway of his mother’s room, he bounced on the balls of his feet, feeling very much like a nervous child instead.

“Mother,” Eris breathed, not knowing if he should approach. Eris had been in the middle of reading through some reports when he’d felt the magic, he must have looked a mess after having run through the halls of The Forest House like some youngling.

“Eris?” His mother asked through her tears, more emotion than Eris had seen from her in centuries. “What’s happened?” Eris said as he walked towards them, his tone uncharacteristically soft. The pulse of angry magic that Eris had felt minutes before had worried him, but looking at both his mother and the seemingly healthy child had Eris very confused.

His mother merely shook her head and carefully placed the little bundle in Eris’ arms. Eris had only ever held one of his brothers when they’d been this small and fragile. It must be a girl, Eris thought, why else would his father be so angry, why else would his mother weep. He felt an odd sadness, pitying any female born into this court. “I want to name him Lucien,” his mother whispered, as if it were a secret.

Eris was only more confused, “Cauldon bless him,” he muttered, moving the blankets so that he could peer at the face of his brother. The baby’s eyes were closed, his mouth slightly parted as he huffed tiny breaths in his sleep.

“Eris, I must ask something of you,” his mother tugged on the loose sleeve of his shirt, her other hand wiping the tears from her cheeks. Eris was still looking at the child in his arms, but he nodded for her to go on. His mother never asked anything of him and Eris had never asked anything of his mother. “You must protect him.”

Eris nodded again. He thought he’d done a particularly good job at taking care of Rufus since his mother had been an empty shell when he’d been born. Not that Eris could blame her, he figured spending too much time around Beron was the cause. Eris had kept Rufus as far away from his father as he could, and while Rufus had a reputation for taking nothing seriously, all things considered, he was a good male.

“Give me your vow.” Eris furrowed his auburn brows, glancing to his mother as she gently took the child from his arms and placed him in his cradle. Strange, Eris thought, but would not question it. His mother had said it so firmly that Eris had been reminded of the female he remembered from his childhood. 

“I give you my vow, my solemn oath, to protect this child,” Eris said, unwavering eyes on his mother.

“Beron wants him dead,” she said softly, calmly.

“What?” Eris snapped, probably much harsher than he needed to be. 

“Your father wants to leave the babe to the elements,” she reached for Eris’s hand, but he jerked away from his mother. Fool, Eris thought, he was a fool. Hadn’t his father taught him since he could speak to never give anyone his oath. 

“Why?” Eris growled, and while he might have been frustrated with having agreed to his mother’s wishes, he was horrified at the thought that his father would kill an innocent child.

Even if the High Lord of the Autumn Court did not care much for his sons, he had always valued them as political pawns. Fae children were rare, his father had always known they would grow to be assets. Eris had spent much of his life fearing what his father would do to him and his brothers in anger, but he found a strange comfort in knowing Beron would never kill one of his sons. Eris looked at his mother, mouth dropping open slightly.

Eris took great pride in the fact that his emotions never openly showed on his face, not unless he wanted them to, but he couldn’t help it. Eris was a little horrified, a little concerned. His mother had gone off and had an affair, right under Beron’s nose, the runt in the cradle was his half-brother. Eris needed a strong fucking drink to swallow that realization. No. Beron would never kill one of his sons.

His mother looked at Eris with devastation, she sniffled once, ran a hand through her hair. She looked tired, but Eris couldn’t remember the last time his mother had looked so alive. “Eris, please, he… he is still your brother, please. Your father has doubts, but it is mere speculation.” She lifted her face to look up at her eldest son, “If he is under your protection …” She broke off then, looking at Eris with hopeful russett eyes.

Eris nearly flinched at her words, of course Lucien was still his brother, he thought. And not only that, but he’d vowed to keep the runt safe. Eris didn’t need to be a seer to know this vow would become a problem at some point, but he pushed those negative thoughts from his head. Eris moved to look into the crib, at the small babe inside it, “Are you sure about calling him Lucien?” 

His mother’s shoulders sagged with relief, “What’s the matter with it?”

Eris tilted his head to the side as he continued to stare at his youngest brother. “Mother, his name means sunshine in the Old Tongue, perhaps you should reconsider.” 

His mother flashed him a small smile, momentarily shocking Eris, “It means light.” 

“I hardly think that’s any better,” Eris was debating whether or not to ask who the father was when he heard the loud steps approaching the room, and he turned to face the carved doors of his mother’s chambers with a deep breath.

The doors slammed open with a loud crash, Eris was surprised the babe didn’t wake. “Give me the child,” Beron said with a frighteningly quiet voice. 

“Father,” Eris said, warning in his tone. Eris was many things, but he wasn’t an oath-breaker. 

“Do not involve yourself in matters that do not concern you,” Beron spat, “Give me the child.” 

Eris moved closer to his father, his hand moving towards the sword at his side, “Father.”

The High Lord of Autumn paused, looking at his son carefully. Eris let golden flames flare in his eyes. His father stood straighter, eyes flicking to the hand Eris had placed on the hilt of his weapon. “You would fight me, boy?” His father laughed with no amusement before he flashed a taunting smile in Eris’s direction, “You would fight me?” Eris knew that perhaps he should have reconsidered his approach to the whole situation when he felt the magic in the room swell.

The crackling magic that flowed through Eris’s veins was lethal, but not as strong as his father’s. Eris lifted his chin, “Father, leave the child.” Beron reached for his own weapon, and Eris drew his sword. His father was more experienced, and Eris knew his talents did not lie in combat, but he would fight for this. If he died, though, he worried what Beron would do to Rufus, but he wouldn’t let Beron leave Lucien to the elements. At least not without a fight.

“Eris!” His mother moved to stand between them, but Eris pushed her back with his arm. He would regret sending her crashing against the wardrobe later, but he was much too focused on his father to care too much about that now. Beron lunged at Eris with his sword, and Eris easily deflected the blow that was aimed at his chest. Eris’s amber eyes widened, but he wasn’t entirely sure why it shocked him to know that his father would strike to kill.

Eris had to lead his father away from his mother and the child, so with a small snarl Eris threw himself at his father, his sword arcing in the air. With a powerful blow, Beron stumbled out into the hall. The servants that had dutifully been attending to their business shrieked as their swords slammed together, the sound of metal against metal echoing as the servants ran away from them.

Beron was much stronger than Eris. He had been fighting for much longer, and Eris knew that if he started using his magic against his father, his father would respond with magic much stronger than his. Eris parried his father’s first series of blows, but it was an effort. High Lords were a different breed, and with each clash of their swords, Eris was reminded of that fact. “Ungrateful,” his father spat, cutting Eris on the thigh with a long swipe of his sword.

Eris heard his mother screaming at Beron to stop, and he knew that the cut along his leg was deep, but he managed to whirl out of the way of his father’s blade as it came frighteningly close to his neck. Eris put all his weight in the next swing of his sword, and Beron grinned as their swords met and they faced each other. “Why protect the little runt?” Beron’s grin merely widened, “You wish to have another brother fight you for the throne?”

Eris flashed him a crooked grin in return, ignoring the pain in his leg as he spoke to his father over the cross of their swords. “I am not afraid.” 

“Perhaps you should be.” Eris could not respond fast enough as his father stopped pushing against him, and Eris lost his balance. It was only a moment, but it was enough. Beron’s blade skidded across the edge of Eris’s sword, and Eris knew he had made a terrible mistake. Beron thrust his blade into Eris’ side.

Eris felt blank, he vaguely realized he’d cried out as his father twisted the blade before his own weapon fell from his weak fingers. He didn’t hear the sound of it as it dropped against the floor, the roaring in his ears was much too loud. “Are you happy now, Eris,” Beron said, putting a hand up to his son’s face in a strangely father-like gesture, the other still tightly gripping the sword in Eris’s side. “I have lost a son this night.”

Fingers curling in Eris’s long hair, Beron pulled his eldest son to him and placed a kiss to his temple. In his entire life, Beron had never shown any affection to Eris, and if Eris had been able to think properly, he would have been shocked. Eris groaned as his father yanked the blade back, his shaking hands going to the wound at his side as his legs faltered and he fell to his knees. Ruby red blood glimmered on the silver blade of his father’s sword.

Eris tried to take a deep breath, but found that his lungs wouldn’t let him. Eris coughed, feeling blood drip down his chin. He supposed that he should not have expected to beat his father in a duel. Eris felt like he was drowning. As a youngling he’d tripped on a rope and fallen off a dock in the Spring Court and into a lake, not knowing how to swim and in a panic, Eris had thrashed as water filled his lungs.

Each breath had burned in a way that Eris had never imagined he’d feel as the heir of the Autumn Court. Surely, Eris would have died had his mother not pulled him out of the water, sobbing as she’d told him to hold her hand next time. His mother was sobbing now as she fell to her knees in front of Beron, begging him to stop. Eris slumped forward with a gasp, the burning feeling in his chest becoming nearly unbearable.

He made a strange choked noise as more blood filled his mouth and Eris gritted his teeth as someone dropped down by his side. “You alright, Eris?” Rufus asked, his face close to Eris’s as he put his hands around Eris’s arm, trying to help him up. Eris looked at his younger brother through the curtain of his red hair, “Hello, hey, you alright?” Rufus repeated, russett eyes wide.

“Never better,” Eris rasped as more blood dripped from his mouth onto the marble floors. Eris tried to lift himself up with Rufus’s help. He couldn’t stand, Eris noticed, and put all his weight on his younger brother. Rufus laughed nervously, the sound hollow to Eris’s ears. Holding a hand to the wound on Eris’ side and abandoning his attempt to get Eris up off the floor, Rufus moved the hair from Eris’s face. With the back of his hand, Rufus wiped at the blood along Eris’s chin before he spoke. Eris wasn’t really worried, but he could tell from the tone of Rufus’s voice that he probably should be. 

Cato’s voice rang like a bell in the nearly empty hall, “What the hells happened here?” Calm and steady and definitely not worried. Cato would soon become heir, Eris thought briefly, all his brother had ever wanted and he hadn’t even lifted a finger to get it. 

“Your brother seems to have forgotten his place,” Beron replied with equal calm.

Rufus snarled softly, having been the youngest of six for thirty years, no one paid him any attention, especially not father, and Eris knew Rufus favoured him. Eris would be lying if he told anyone he didn’t favour Rufus as well. Eris could feel his eyelids drooping, but he watched as Maddox ran towards them from the other side of the hall, Priam close behind him. Eris felt heavy, so he leaned into Rufus, pain flaring through his side.

His vision was becoming blurred and he could barely hear his mother begging Beron to spare him and Lucien. The last thing Eris remembered before he lost consciousness was staring at his sword, thinking that the ruby eyes of the lion’s head on the hilt glowed with flames.

#eris vanserra #fanfic #autumn court #beron vanserra #lucien vanserra #lady vanserra #the lady of the autumn court #helion #helion x lady of autumn #fanfiction #vanserra brothers #acotar #sjm #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #a court of silver flames

[luvinseokjinnie]

Jeon Jungkook Fic Recs

�� -ANGST || ❅- SMUT || ✼ -CRACK/HUMOR || ❀ -FLUFF || ♛ - ACTION/SUSPENSE || ♪ - SUPERNATURAL/SCI-FI

-Fic Recs Main List-  

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One shots

If I told you ☾❀|| jjk x reader || college au || @gukyi || [personal fav]

Sypnosis: in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.

Melomaniac ☾❀|| jjk x reader || punk/rockstar au || @jeonscript  ||

Sypnosis: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because he’s supposed to be your best friend and nothing more. worst part of it all is that you know he’s in love with you too.

What are best friends for? ❀☾|| Jjk x reader|| college au|| @lovelyyyoongi || [personal fav]

Sypnosis: What begins as harmless matchmaking, ends up in a jumbled mess of emotions for both you and your best friend, Jungkook.

Chocolate milk ❀☾|| jjk x reader ||childhood friend au ||  @vantaenims  ||

Sypnosis: You never planned to catch some feelings for Jungkook but you didn’t know that he’s the mastermind of all these fickle thoughts. It’s all thanks to Psychology and Human Behavior.

Unaware ☾ || jjk x reader ||  @kookscrescent  ||

Sypnosis: “He knows the day will never come. She has already got her heart set on somebody else. But deep in his heart, despite all the broken pieces, he knows that she will never find someone that will love her more than he does.”

Crosshairs ☾♛❅|| jjk x reader ||secret agent au|| @junghelioseok ||

Sypnosis: he’s never letting you out of his line of sight again.

Inkling ☾❅|| tatoo artist!jjk x reader || @gguksgalaxy || (vv smutty sgvd im sorry)

Sypnosis: Jungkook is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlour. In other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. Why? Well…you’re not entirely sure but him ditching right after a very heated make-out session sure isn’t a good sign. His extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on. Right?

Icing ❀❅ || jjk x reader || @yolokoo ||

Sypnosis:  Baking with your boyfriend sounds like a good idea until he makes a mess and then gets a boner. You know where it goes from there.  

Year after year (after tear after tear) ☾ || jjk x reader || college au || @ubemango ||

Sypnosis: Taehyung just wants you to have a good birthday.

Something new ❀❅ || jjk x reader || college au || @minlucent ||

sypnosis: jungkook has a thing for virgins. you just happen to be the one he has his eye on.

of memes and mood swings ❀☾✼ || jjk x reader || parents au || @koosgrl  ||

sypnosis: ❝ babies are born weighing 30kg, right? ❞ + turns out that 2017 wasn’t just a meme on twitter, especially a particular number of months made the year more eventful than you’d thought it’d be after your boyfriend promises you that he would pull out. or to make a long fucking story short: the wild ride that is your pregnancy.

chewie & choco boy  ❀☾ || jjk x reader || best friends au || @rookiegukie​ ||

sypnosis: all your life, jeongguk has always been and only been your best friend. no matter the countless misunderstandings and the never ending teasing when it came to the true nature of your relationship, you two remained firm about it—saying that you were really just really good friends and nothing more. though lately, that doesn’t seem to be right anymore, especially as the both of you begin getting confused yourselves.

Loveship  ❀☾ || jjk x reader || sequel to chewie & choco boy || @rookiegukie​ ||

sypnosis: all your life, jeongguk has always been and only been your best friend. though that is until you started dating him and things just can’t be better than it is. but shifting from being just friends and being a couple isn’t as easy as it seems, especially when a certain ex just keeps on reminding you your insecurities about finally being jeongguk’s girlfriend.

Tiger Flower  ☾ || jjk x reader || hanahaki au || @euphoria-vmin7​ ||

sypnosis: tiger flower. it’s his birth flower. it’s the flower that you can’t have.

Lost Stars  ❀☾✼|| jjk x reader || Heavy angst || @staerrylights​ ||

Sypnosis: Your life was made up of failed relationships, an unhappy marriage, and a terrible job but things weren’t always that way. When a meteor shower occurs on the night of your twenty fifth birthday, you get a chance to relive the past ten years of agony and love you thought would last forever, would you hold onto those memories or let them fade into the distance?

Series

Learn to love ☾❀|| jjk!teacher x reader!singleparent || @knjoodles ||

Sypnosis: raising your daughter alone while simultaneously watching your ex-husband live the life of his dreams away from the two of you hurts. badly. it hurts a little less, though, when you find an unlikely friend while looking for help.

You belong with me ☾❀|| jjk x reader || high school au || @joonscroll ||

Sypnosis: you’ve loved jungkook since you could count. he's always seen you as a friend. watching him date other girls and having to pretend you’re not in love with him is killing you.

Bullseye ♛☾❅|| jjk x reader || Bottoms up Series by @gguksgalaxy ||

Sypnosis: A summer weekend isn’t complete without Jungkook coming to seek you out at your job at the beach club to bless you wish his smile. A smile that quickly fades to anger one night, when he catches your ex trying to get your attention.

Louder than Bombs ❅|| vampire!jjk x reader || Map of the soul 7 project by @chimkookie ||  

Sypnosis:  Where humans and mythical beings try to live together in harmony, but different worldly disasters and rivalries cause a stir within both of the races as they fight for dominance, power and money. With Peru being the victim of the war between humans and mythics - specifically vampires - many have gone into hiding. You are one of those people. When your home is invaded by the enemy, they imprison you and force you to serve them. However, one of them seems to take pity on you, or so you thought.

Social media

Fate’s Games ✼❀ || jjkxreader || youtuber/gamer au ||  @jjk-biased || !MUST READ! [personal fav]

Sypnosis: Faith might’ve had a lot more in store when broke college kid Y/N unknowingly roasts famous youtuber Jeon Jungkook’s Overwatch skills in front of a live audience.

Let’s get it ❀✼ || jjk x reader || youtuber au || @diorjeons ||

Sypnosis: You and Jungkook are vloggers on Youtube, being rivals since you both gained a following. Everyone thinks you hate each other because of the constant shade. The funny thing is, is that you both run a fan account for the other and no one knows.

Only for love ☾❀✼|| single dad!jjk x reader || @lysjeon ||

Sypnosis: for almost four years it had been just him and sarang, and he had no plans on changing the life they had become accustomed to any time soon, but of course y/n has to come and shake his world.

#bts au #bts masterlist #bts #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fic recommendations #bts x yn #bts fake texts #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst

[basilisklist]

harry/tom (m/m)

“Dance with the Devil” by Driverpicksthemooseic (Ratkinzluver33)

(64,057 words) in progress

horcrux tom

harry/tom (voldemort)

“‘I'm not here to hurt you, Harry. Quite the opposite, in fact. I wish to help you.’”

“(OR, Horcrux!Tom helps Harry restore Voldemort's sanity and unite his soul.)”

Dance with the Devil - Chapter 1 - Driverpicksthemooseic (Ratkinzluver33) - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“If you whisper to death it whispers back” by Lytri

(18,101 words) in progress

time travel

harry/tom

“The Final Battle went far worse than expected, leaving Harry alone in the aftermath. Desperate, he performs a ritual to go back in time, just not as himself. However, the time he ends up in is far from what he intended. Unsure of what else to do, he finally decides to go back to Hogwarts. Tom Riddle is instantly obsessed.”

if you whisper to death it whispers back - Chapter 1 - Lytri - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“A Dangerous Game” by Cybrid

(263,533 words) in progress

horcrux tom

harry/tom

“Tom Riddle opens the Chamber of Secrets in Harry’s fifth year at Hogwarts. After a botched attempt to extract the Horcrux in Harry’s scar leaves their souls tied together, Tom is forced to kidnap him when he makes his escape.”

“A story of Horcrux hunting, adventure and unwilling attraction.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13059681/chapters/60993925?view_adult=true

“Son of Magic” by PurplePebbles

(156,481 words) in progress

time travel

harry/tom

“After decades of war, the world is on the brink of destruction, with no hope for survival. The only way to go on is to travel back in time and change everything that's gone wrong, starting with Tom Riddle. That's how Harry Potter found himself in 1941, a time he had hoped never to find himself in again. Why 1941? Death has a pretty messed up sense of humour, that's why.”

Son of Magic - Chapter 14 - PurplePebbles - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Custodarium” by Tina48

(73,149 words) complete

time travel

harry/tom

“The war is over and the Wizarding Britain has been slowly rising from the ashes. Harry just wishes none of it ever happened – what will he do when he’s given a chance to change the past? Was Dumbledore right about ‘the power he knows not’ after all?”

Custodarium - Chapter 1 - Tina48 - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Meant to Be” by phoenixmaiden13 (LadyPhoenix)

(141,197 words) in progress

harry/tom

“One Night of passion leads to drastic consequences that changes the war completely. Harry must go into hiding to protect himself and his most guarded secret. But will that secret bring Harry and Tom together?”

Meant To Be - Chapter 1 - phoenixmaiden13 (LadyPhoenix) - Harry Potter - Fandom

“Wear Me Like A Locket Around Your Throat” by VivyPotter

(221,010 words) in progress

time travel

harry/tom

“‘This is Mr Riddle, one of our Slytherin prefects. I’m sure he’ll make you feel right at home. Mr Riddle, this is Harrison Peters. He’s just been sorted into Slytherin and will be joining you in sixth year,’ Dumbledore announced jovially, though Tom could see that sliver of constant suspicion in his gaze that had never quite faded.”

“‘Harry,’ the boy hurried to correct. ‘Just Harry.’”

“And then he stuck his hand out. How… plebeian, Tom noticed with delight. Walburga would probably faint.”

Wear Me Like A Locket Around Your Throat - Chapter 1 - VivyPotter - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Exhibit A” by WereBunny87

(57,502 words) complete

harry/tom

“Harry Potter has been gone for some time. When he returns he's covered from head to toe in bandages and appears cold as ice. Only a few people know what's been happening to the one time boy wonder...and some of them will live to regret ever being a part of his pain. He'd make sure of it.”

Exhibit A - Chapter 1 - WereBunny87 - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“The Explosion” by orphan_account

(77,000 words) in progress

time travel

harry/tom

“Usually, in other Fics, Harry goes to the past, meets an older or same age Tom in Hogwarts, and is sorted into Slytherin. Harry is usually there to change Tom and Tom is a ‘teenage Dark Lord.’ In THIS Fic, Tom is a bullied 3rd year, believed to be a Mud-blood, and has his first ever crush on Henry Peverell, the 6th year Gryffindor, who is not there to change Tom, but rather...”

The Explosion - Chapter 1 - orphan_account - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Times of Peace” (2 part series) by conquerorofheaven

- Times of Peace (40,305 words) complete

- Times of Change (61,851 words) in progress

time travel

harry/tom

Times of Peace- “Harry is drinking his life away as usual. Suddenly, he's back in the past, 1943 to be exact. Harry's given a whole new chance at life as Harrison Evans and this time he's not planning on saving anyone.”

“Unfortunately, the Potter luck strikes again and Harry's sucked back into the conflict and face to face with one Tom Riddle. Somehow the more he tries to stay away the more entangled he gets.”

Times of Change- “Harry is still in the past and Tom Riddle is still as persistent as always. This time though, Harry won't get away with pretending to be weak. His secret's out and Tom has made it his mission to figure out his others as well.”

Times of Peace - conquerorofheaven - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Again and Again” by Athy

(334,615 words) in progress

time travel

harry/tom

“The Do-Over Fic - a chance to do things again, but this time-To Get it Right. But is it really such a blessing as it appears? A jaded, darker, bitter, and tired wizard who just wants to die; but can't. A chance to learn how to live, from the most unexpected source.”

Again and Again - Chapter 1 - Athy - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Aware.” by sfk

(160,171 words) in progress

alternative universe, no magic

harry/tom

“There are so many fanfics about heartless mob bosses. This is one of them. Only this one kind of falls in love.”

Aware series - sfk - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“The Rise of a Dark Lord” by LittleMissXanda

(239,985 words)

harry/tom

“Dumbledore was sure he had made the right choice. Ten years later Harry shows him just how wrong he was. With little regard for most, Harry makes a name for himself at Hogwarts, and shows everyone that he is far more than just the BWL. In doing that he attracts the attention of the Dark Lord, making Voldemort believe that the Boy-Who-Lived could be far more than an enemy.”

The Rise of a Dark Lord Chapter 1: The BoyWhoLived, a harry potter fanfic

“Kitties and Crowns” by Lillyleaf101

(63,816 words) complete

Harry goes to school with tom but not time travel

harry/tom

“Fifth year Harry Potter was known only for being the outcast, mudblood of Slytherin and also an immense bookworm, while sixth year Tom Riddle was of course the most popular kid in school. Harry however had never much liked Riddle, watching him like a hawk...he was probably the only kid in school who would not bow down at Riddles feet... Which is surprising seeing as Harry has a HUGE secret crush on him. So what is in store for these two very different yet so very alike boys?”

Kitties and Crowns - Chapter 2 - Lillyleaf101 - Harry Potter - Fandom

“The Fox and The Stag” (2 part series) by KaedeRavensdale

- Praeclarus Anguis (171,641 words) complete

- Argenti Vulpi (96,761 words) complete

time travel

horcrux tom

harry/tom

Praeclarus Anguis- “‘Tell me Harry, if I were to tell you that you could go back in time and prevent one event of your choice from ever occurring would you do so?’”

“Go back in time? A chance to change the past for a better future? ...At once Harry knew what he would do. ‘I would stop Tom Riddle from ever becoming Voldemort.’”

Argenti Vulpi- “Dumbledore is dead, five Horcruxes remain scattered across Wizarding Britain and the only real tool they have to destroy them now rests in the hands of the enemy: worse yet, Voldemort may be slowly catching on to who Tom really is...the truth of what happened that horrible night in Godric’s Hollow is at last revealed. The Dark Lord and the Chosen One race towards their final confrontation, and when that time comes both Harry and Tom stand to lose everything that ever mattered to either of them.”

The Fox and The Stag - KaedeRavensdale - Harry Potter - JK Rowling  

“Turn Back 53” by Kefalion

(126,255 words)

harry/tom

“It's the summer after Harry's sixth year. Voldemort is close to taking over and things are becoming real. On the night of his seventeenth birthday Harry gets a time-turner that can be used to travel 53 years back in time. Without thinking it through too much Harry decided to use it.Back in 1944 he starts a new life, a life where he will do anything to make sure that Voldemort never rises to power. Part of the plan is to get close to Tom Riddle who will attend his seventh year at Hogwarts along with Harry. Keep your friends close but your enemies closer, just don't become too close.”

“Will Voldemort's rise to power, and answers the question about who will change who. Will Tom see the light or will Harry descend into darkness? And just how tightly bound are Harry and Tom?”

Turn Back 53 Chapter 1, a harry potter fanfic

“Castle of Glass” by ChibiTsukiHikari

(20,144 words)

time travel

master of death

harry/tom

“A chance to change the past, who wouldn't take the opportunity given the choice? All he had to deal with was a unfortunately devilishly handsome teenage Tom Riddle and his inner circle of baby death eaters. What could possibly go wrong? Especially with Death looming over his shoulder at every turn quite literally mind you. Who was he kidding? This was going to be a complete disaster!”

Castle of Glass - Chapter 1 - ChibiTsukiHikari - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Can’t Break the Silence” by Dark_Cyan_Star

(100,291 words) complete

teacher/student

harry/tom

“Harry’s a Magus, the problem is, he doesn’t want that power and desperately tries to hide his talent. Professor Riddle, a rising Dark Lord, sees through him and tries to court Harry away from Quidditch and into Wizarding politics.”

Can't Break the Silence - Chapter 1 - Dark_Cyan_Star - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Mors et Tempus” by Madriddler

(135,931 words)

time travel

harry/tom

“Scared about the coming war, Harry went to the Astronomy Tower to reflect. Magic, it seemed, has another plan and Harry has swept away from his present and landing right into Hogwarts in 1943. Stuck in Riddle's time, and now under the name of Harry Peverell, Harry must do his best to keep under the radar of Time. However, it seems that Tom Riddle has other plans, and wants the boy for his own.”

Mors et Tempus - Chapter 1 - Madriddler - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“A Change of Heart and Mind” by Tiswabley

(89,457 words) abandoned

time travel

harry/tom

“Harry didn't expect to run into a familiar face on the way back from an errand for his aunt, the summer before his sixth year at Hogwarts. He really didn't enjoy running into Malfoy Senior, either, regardless of the circumstances. Of course, being an active Death Eater, Harry anticipated the man's attack.”

“What he didn't anticipate was the vial spilled all over him, golden sand-like liquid sinking into his skin. When he woke up, well. That was something else entirely. Harry Potter is thrown back in time to the 1940s, right before his sixth year at Hogwarts, and during the same year Tom Riddle would be attending HIS sixth year. What follows are plenty of revelations, more questions than can be answered in that time period, and the potential to meet a group of people who care about him for more than just his fame.”

A Change of Heart and Mind - Chapter 1 - Tiswabley - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“When in Rome” (2 part series) by XblackcatwidowX

- When in Rome (164,267 words) complete

- When in Rome II: The Lost Children Connection (54,988 words)

time travel

harry/tom

When in Rome- “When Harry and Hermione inadvertently tumble half a century into the past, they find themselves in the same year as the notorious Head Boy, Tom Riddle. Both Harry and Hermione's courage will be tested when they are confronted by chances of romance from the most unexpected of places, and unlikely enemies hiding in the tallgrass.”

“Lost in the past, they may well forget the way home.”

When in Rome II: “A year has passed since Harry returned to the present day. Voldemort’s empire is growing, but Harry remains set on saving the man he knows to be Tom Riddle. When unexpected circumstances lead him back down the rabbit hole of the past, he discovers the world to be a far less forgiving place than he remembers, and Tom is a completely different person from the one he left behind. With an empire to tear down and old and new faces to confront, it’s impossible to know who to trust.”

When in Rome - Chapter 1 - XblackcatwidowX - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Love They Haven’t Thought Of Yet” by Snoweylily

(84,541 words)

student/teacher

harry/tom

“Boy Who Lived, Saviour of the Wizarding World, Defeater of Grindelwald, never received his Hogwarts Letter. Five years later, a 16-year-old Harry Potter is found on the streets of London and immediately sent to Hogwarts, where he catches the eye of one Professor Tom Riddle. When Harry is sorted into Slytherin, well... that just makes things a whole lot easier for him, doesn't it?”

Love They Haven't Thought Of Yet - Chapter 1 - Snoweylily - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Moments in Time” by Watermelonsmellinfellon

(46,858 words)

harry/tom

“Tom Riddle thought he was dreaming the first time, but when he repeatedly visits the same boy, he realizes that bigger things are at work. He watches the boy in the cupboard grow from a small child and into a young man. His brotherly affections begin to wane. What will he do when the boy isn't so little anymore? Could he even imagine? Those Avada eyes calling to him.”

Moments in Time - Chapter 1 - Watermelonsmellinfellon - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“If Them’s the Rules” by MayMarlow

(214,040 words)

time travel

adopts tom

harry/tom?

“Unable to accept the aftermath of the war, Harry decides to travel back in time to become the parent Tom Riddle obviously should have had. Except that things don't go as planned and Harry finds himself part of a game with hidden rules, trying to survive while raising a boy whose understanding of family has nothing to do with love.”

If Them's the Rules - Chapter 1 - MayMarlow - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“I Will Always Come Back To You” by Watermelonsmellinfellon

(30,633 words)

reincarnation

harry/tom (voldemort)

“Tom had a friend when he was little. His friend taught him that he was special because of what he could do and that people who hated him, were beneath him. When an accident occurs, Tom's friend promises that he'll never truly be gone. Hadrian always comes back to Tom, in the forms of Haraldr, Harish, and finally, Harry. Magic grants wishes.”

I Will Always Come Back To You - Chapter 1 - Watermelonsmellinfellon - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“The Hidden Abyss” by AmicablePandemonium

(33,893 words)

harry/tom

“Being able to communicate with Tom Riddle in his mind from an early age, Harry quickly learns the truth about Dumbledore and death of his parents. Join Harry as he helps bring about the fall of the Light.”

The Hidden Abyss - Chapter 1 - AmicablePandemonium - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Sweet Darkness” by BerryMoon

(106,489 words)

harry/tom

“Harry had enough of all the betrayals and abandonments. So when an unexpected ally turns-up and offers help out of a sticky situation he decides to accept. Really, it's not like things could get any worse.”

Sweet Darkness - Chapter 1 - BerryMoon - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Forsaken (Old, being rewrote)” by CrossTheCrossedPerson

(127,876 words)

master of death

time travel

harry/tom

“Harry was forsaken his whole life, nothing ever stayed the same and if it did it endangered or hurt Harry in some way shape or form. This revolves in all things, and his pass with fortune ends when after he finally destroys Voldemort, a Death Eater decides to murder him. Death is unhappy with Harry being his master, but acknowledges Harry never had a chance of anything but a horrible life. Granting Harry with his full amount of power with no compulsions, Death sets him up to go to Hogwarts in 1940s where he can truly discover who he is.”

Forsaken (Old, being rewrote) - Chapter 1 - CrossTheCrossedPerson - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Deathly green eyes” by Smolangryslytherin

(177,850 words)

time travel

harry/tom

“They keep their eyes on the body. They jerked back when it moved again. A small and pale hand went to the blade, and it was retired from the open wound, blood rushing out of the cut; they stayed still as it whined again, a curse parting from his lips. He sat slowly, head hanging forward, face covered by the long locks of black hair dripping the black substance on the floor. The only sound was the drops of black ooze on the marble floor. They walk away from the grumbling body, until one bumps into a table, the wooden object making a harsh racket against the floor.”

“Hadrian’s face turns to them, green eyes shining in the gloomy room like lanterns. or Harry kills himself and instead of doing bye-bye, Death throws him back to the past because he is bored. or Harry, now Hadrian, is a sweet murderous child and Tom Riddle is a simp.”

Deathly green eyes - Chapter 1 - Smolangryslytherin - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Better Be” by Assapanick

(61,588 words)

horcrux tom

harry/tom

“Draco thinks it’s rubbish that people suspect Harry is the Heir of Slytherin, but that doesn’t mean he won’t use that to his advantage. Harry? He’s all alone now, unable to face his friends. Lucky for him, he’s found a Diary that he can confide in.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16184567/chapters/37819562

“I Have Seen Your Heart” by Arliene

(41,860 words) complete

harry/tom

“The arrival of his nemesis is the least of Harry Potter's problems. Now that the war is over, he finds himself drifting away from all that held him together in the past, trying to find a new purpose in his life. Being framed for murder forces Harry to be on the run and this time the only company he takes with him is Tom Riddle. The young Dark Lord faces a future he did not expect, meets an oddity who killed everything he strived to be. And yet he finds himself obsessed with his murderer, a determined man searching for answers and reaching for the sky once more. Harry Potter's purpose and Tom Riddle's destiny, seemingly entwined. They say change is overrated. But choice is everything.”

I Have Seen Your Heart

“Not Strong Enough” by Sayon_170

(85,319 words)

harry/tom

“Even at the age of five Tom was a great manipulator. He knew what to do to get what he wanted, and right then he wanted to get out of the orphanage and be with Harry. A promise of love, care, and protection from a beautiful man that wanted him, enticed Tom. If anyone were going to have Harry and the love he offered, it would be him. Harry was too overjoyed at Tom’s acceptance to notice the possessive look in Tom's eyes nor the sharp nails that dug into Harry's neck like fangs trying to latch onto Harry, marking him as his own.”

Not Strong Enough - Chapter 1 - Sayon_170 - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“I Waited For You, In The Shadows Of Time” by watchingvfall_n_drown

(120,090 words) complete

time travel

harry/tom(voldemort)

“In a twist of fate, Harry is stranded in a time when Grindelwald has just been defeated and the  First Wizarding War hasn't begun yet. Desperate for answers, he still has the presence of mind to keep himself hidden from all, especially the power figures of the Wizarding World. And then all his carefully built hope and shelter shatters one day, in the shores of the black lake.”

“Formerly Tom Riddle, now Voldemort comes upon one that captures him with their beauty and magic, stroking the inevitable desire. Like all the pretty things he has collected, this will be no different. Unfortunately for him, his newest obsession has a will of its own and no intention of quietly acquiescing.”

“Will Harry be able to find a way home? Or a reason to stay? And will the Dark Lord find more than a desire to possess in his heart? Even as the two fated ones find each other again, the world moves on. There is still a Dark Lord and still a headmaster with sharp eyes on the horizon.”

I Waited For You, In The Shadows Of Time - Chapter 1 - watchingvfall_n_drown - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“For the Good of Us All” by toomanysunkenships

(48,341 words)

time travel

harry/tom

“Hermione has finally managed to corner Harry and convince him to listen to her plan. ‘Harry, going back in time to save Tom Riddle before the monster envelops the man is the best plan we have. It's for the good of us all.’”

For the Good of Us All - Chapter 1 - toomanysunkenships - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Forget Me Not” by partofforver

(24,213 words) complete

horcrux tom

harry/tom

“Harry Potter finds an empty diary in the bathroom of Moaning Myrtle. Why doesn't he throw it away?”

https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/4118536/chapters/9282931

“Lest You Are My Enemy” by Maeglin_Yedi

(6,415 words) complete

harry/tom

“Some books are better left unopened.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008780

“Counting Bodies Like Sheep” by rightonthelimit

(70,941 words) complete

alternative universe, no magic

harry/tom

“It’s a crazy world torn straight out of a horror movie - the undead roam the earth and destroy everything in their wake. When Harry Potter narrowly escapes a horrible death he finds himself a companion in Tom Riddle - a mysterious, heartless man who doesn't hesitate to take lives to save his own. Savage as the man is, Harry still finds himself enthralled... He quickly starts developing strange needs and feelings.”

“When they decide to finally find a safe place to settle down for a while they encounter dangerous enemies on their path. Tom's past demons come back around to haunt the both of them and it becomes very clear that even after the years they spent together, Harry really doesn't know Tom at all.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/451855

“Death is but the Next Great Adventure” by TheObsidianQuill

(261,123 words)

harry/tom

“What if that night in Godric's Hollow went differently? What if Harry did die? What if Death stepped in and made a deal with the Savior of the Wizarding World? How different would Harry's life be after that deal?”

“(Or, Harry makes a deal with Death and in exchange gains something Voldemort has fought his entire life for. Immortality. And a strange friendship with Death)”

Death is but the Next Great Adventure - Chapter 1 - TheObsidianQuill - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“When Harry Met Tom” by The_Carnivorous_Muffin

(154,299 words)

time travel

harry/tom

“When the battle in the department of mysteries heads south, Harry finds herself flung backwards in time to 1942, where Tom Riddle is a prefect in his fifth year. Armed with this knowledge, but little else, Harry desperately tries to find a way home and for once in her life not screw it up. Tom, for his own part, wonders when Harry Evans will head back to the mothership.”

When Harry Met Tom - Chapter 1 - The_Carnivorous_Muffin - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“you belong to me (i belong to you)” by Child-OTKW

(80,718 words)

harry/tom

“‘What I find absolutely fascinating,’” Riddle said, stalking closer, “‘is you.’” He marched forward, backing Harry up until he was pinned to the cool wall of the common room.”

“After an accident, Auror Harry Potter wakes up in the body of fourteen year old Nathan Ciro, a tormented Slytherin who recently tried to end his own life. His return to Hogwarts causes quite the stir through the staff and students, especially when they realise he is not the same boy as before. He tries to keep his head down, but with the keen eyes of Tom Riddle hounding him through the halls, Harry finds himself unwillingly drawn into a dangerous game with an equally dangerous boy.”

you belong to me (i belong to you) - Chapter 1 - Child_OTKW - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“47 Days to Change (a translation)” by Snow-owl01

(200,888 words)

harry/tom

“Harry Potter and Tom Riddle are enemies, born adversaries, prophesied leaders of opposite factions (2001 to 1932, forty-seven days to change the fate of the Dark Lord).”

“This is a 'Harry travels back in time to raise Tom' story. An unfortunate tale of one man's failed attempt to mold young Tom into a decent, law-abiding citizen. Instead, as Fate will have it, young Tom grows up to become the same twisted psychopath, who is hell-bent on winning the love of his adoptive father. Harry's consent be damned.”

47 Days to Change (a translation) - Chapter 1 - snow_owl01 - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Lord of Time” by DebsTheSlytherinSnapefan

(452,985 words)

time travel

mpreg

harry/tom

“Harry Potter is the Master of Death and Lord of Time through his joining of the three Hallows together. During a duel that wasn't going well, he jumps to the 1940's and has a talk with the true Master of Death. Can Harry prevent the destruction that will occur? Can he change Voldemort to prevent him from becoming the darkest wizard of all time? Or will he be caught in Tom's web?”

Lord of Time - Chapter 1 - DebsTheSlytherinSnapeFan - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“60 Years in a Summer” by Isys Luna Skeeter

(74,416 words)

time travel

harry/tom

“One night, once a year, was more than anything else Tom ever had. This is the story of how two people destined to be foes were actually destined for something else”

60 Years in a Summer - Isys Luna Skeeter (IsysSkeeter) - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“The Other Side of the Coin” by Zennith6

(9,276 words) complete

teacher/student

harry/tom

“Harry Potter, defeater of Grindelwald, has come to Hogwarts. Raised by Sirius Black and sorted in to Slytherin, Harry finds his way under the guidance and watchful gaze of his mentor and Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, one Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

Fanfic: The Other Side of the Coin Ch 1, Harry Potter

“To Define Treachery” by en extase

(44,595 words) complete

harry/tom

“Blind faith is easily shaken. In the Chamber of Secrets, the Horcrux-shade of a Dark Lord regains physical form and Harry finds within himself something he was never meant to know: ambition.”

Fanfic: To Define Treachery Ch 1, Harry Potter

“Riddle’s Legacy” by GenvieveWoolf

(50,273 words)

horcrux tom

harry/tom

“Miraculously, the boy hesitated. Realizing what was at stake, Tom dropped the wand and fell to his knees. ‘Don't do it!’ The next words came very hard. ‘Please, don't kill me.’ What might have happened if Harry had not stabbed Riddle's diary?”

Fanfic: Riddle's Legacy Ch 1, Harry Potter

“A Touch of Evil” by DaggersBloodPain

(78,358 words)

harry/tom

“What if the Chamber of Secrets events didn't turn out the same? A secret learned will make it so Harry will find himself growing up yearning for the touch of evil.”

“This is what may have happened had Harry not saved Ginny and Voldemort was able to return to his 16 year old self. Harry will have to choose who to give his loyalty, power, and love to. This story will go into the nature of Darkness, tinged with a spark of evil, and this will include the bashing of several Light sided wizards.”

Fanfic: A Touch of Evil Ch 1, Harry Potter

“Enduring Obsession” by whitedwarf

(41,067 words)

harry/tom

“It's Riddle's time at Hogwarts. He can charm anyone but one: Hadrian Carrow. A dichotomy, friends with everyone and yet no one. A Slytherin, he chooses to drink with Gryffindors, debate with Ravenclaws and associate with Hufflepuffs. He's Riddle's obsession.”

Fanfic: Enduring Obsession Ch 1, Harry Potter

“A Dark Tide’s Pull” by SyrupylikeBreakfastinMontag

time travel

harry/tom

“Harry goes back in time to 1944 to deal with Voldemort before he decides to make seven horcruxes. Unfortunately for Harry, though, dealing with a 17 year old Tom Riddle isn't as easy as he thought it would be.”

Fanfic: The Dark Tide's Pull Ch 1, Harry Potter

“Black Coat” by Hermione Prime

(77,918 words) complete

time travel

harry/tom

“Seized by Voldemort at the end of his fifth year, in the Department of Mysteries, Harry was transformed into a cat and sent tumbling through time. Armed with nothing except teeth and claws, Harry has to handle the threat posed by Tom Riddle and his teenage followers. He intends to stop the genius young Dark Lord and sabotage him at every turn...in the form of a cat. Sounds simple?”

Fanfic: Black Coat Ch 1, Harry Potter

“Androgynous Lover” by Watermelonsmellinfellon

(69,791 words)

harry/tom

“Hadrian is an androgynous boy who meets a special 'snake' in the zoo on his cousin's eleventh birthday. This 'snake' will help him through his journey into the magical world. Hadrian will learn to use his looks to sway the masses and to use his cunning to get what he wants. Imagine his shock to find out that his new 'snake' is actually a person!”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2525384/chapters/5612165

“Stars, Hide Your Fires” by Audair, Ophidias

(41,270 words) in progress

time travel

harry/tom

“Riddle’s undivided attention snapped to him with the swiftness of shattering glass. His turbulent magic receded from where it had besieged the shop. ‘You,’ he breathed. Coiling in leisurely motions, the eager tendrils of his magic reached for Harry, swathing about his limbs and neck and chest with a liquid, flowing fascination. ‘I’ve been looking for you,’ Riddle continued, tilting his head to the side and sweeping his gaze over Harry. It was an appraisal that felt simultaneously like the raking of iron nails and the tender drapery of silk. It was so familiar, and yet… so foreign. In the winding streets of Knockturn Alley, an intricate dance of mutual obsession unravels between twenty-three-year-old Tom Riddle and a time-travelling Harry Potter.”

Stars, Hide Your Fires

“Inevitabilities” by EclipseWing

(103,199 words) complete

harry/tom

“Tom and Harry are inevitable in any universe.”

Inevitabilities - Chapter 1 - EclipseWing - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Pet’s Curse” by Isys Luna Skeeter

(79,416 words) complete

time travel

harry/tom

“Harry gets cursed and sent back in time. Now he has to find a way to save himself while getting used to the constant presence of his enemy, how does he always gets himself in these things anyway?”

Pet's Curse - Chapter 1 - Isys Luna Skeeter (IsysSkeeter) - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Turning the Tide” by DanniCat

(105,720 words) complete

harry/tom

harry/draco

“Harry becomes doubtful of Dumbledore's side of the war. Things are no longer how he remembers them. When he listens to Draco's side of the story how will his own path change?”

Fanfic: Turning the Tide Ch 1, Harry Potter

“White Innocence” by Emriel

(85,725 words) abandoned

time travel

harry/tom

“Harry is given another chance to live but there is a catch. He wakes up in the past. Thinking it was all a mistake, Harry plots to get back but has the misfortune of attracting the attention of Tom Riddle. They become friends and Tom starts to feel things that are foreign to him. So he keeps Harry close. What starts as curiosity turns into an obsession.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9842741/chapters/22091924

“The Black Bunny” by windseeker2305

(465,513 words)

harry/tom

“Harry's had it with his destined role after the Order does something he can't forgive. Now he's done with both sides of the war and wants to be left alone. But since when have his wishes ever counted for anything?”

The Black Bunny - Chapter 1 - windseeker2305 - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Rebirth” by Athey

(269,743 words)

reincarnation

necromancerHarry

harry/tom

“Two boys grow up together in an orphanage, grow powerful at school, are torn apart by death and brought back together by rebirth. Horcruxes aren't the only way to live forever.”

Fanfic: Rebirth Ch 1, Harry Potter

“The Journal” by Bear-Bell

(54,324 words)

harry/tom

“Harry finds Tom Riddle's journal when he's only 4-years-old”.

Fanfic: The Journal Ch 1, Harry Potter

“Harry Potter and the Sympathy of Souls” by MorticiaYouSpokeFrench

(59,978 words) complete

harry/tom

“Voldemort succeeds in stealing the philosopher's stone, but not all is as it seems.”

Harry Potter and the Sympathy of Souls - Chapter 1 - MorticiaYouSpokeFrench - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

#fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #harrymort #tomarry #harry potter #harry/tom #harryxtom #harry x tom #time travel

[mrsbarnes107]

Secret of the Widow

-part seven-

Summary: Post Endgame time period. The team is healing, trying to navigate this new normal they’ve found themselves in when Bucky and Sam bring home a stray with an attitude and a secret. Will the broken team take her in? Or is it too much to bare?

Warnings: language, *eventual* violence and smut, death, fluff, angst

Pairings: Bucky x OC

Disclaimer: this is posted to Wattpad as well and it WILL HAVE PLOT. I’m a Bucky hoe so there will be smut and romancy stuff but this is a series, so plot plot plot and slow burn.

Something was blinding me and I was wrapped in a cocoon of warmth.

I cracked my eyes open, sunlight streaming in and effectively burning my retinas. A big yawn escaped as cat stretched across my bed, popping my joints deliciously.

Of course that's when I noticed that I was in my bed. The bed I was very much NOT IN last night.

I stumbled to the bathroom, throwing on some spandex shorts along the way. The mirror revealed a very distraught woman. Jeez I'm a mess. Puffy eyes, wild hair, pillow creases on my cheek. With a sigh I throw my hair into a bun and wash my face and teeth, staring down my reflection.

Where on earth did this ginormous hoodie come from? This thing is like a dress, I cant even see my shorts and I KNOW it's not mine.

The fact that i cried hard enough to pass out and NOT feel someone carry me to my room AND put a hoodie on me is very concerning. I need to reign in these emotions, no matter how hard it is being back in the tower.

I slip some fuzzy socks on and check the time. 6 am. Of course.

Making my way quietly down the hall I snuggle more into the cozy hoodie. It smells like musk, man, and crisp night air. This is mine now.

No one seems to be awake, so I decide to treat the team to an extravagant breakfast of waffles, bacon, and eggs. But first a very very large cup of coffee.

As the aroma of Heavens most beautiful creation fills the room I have FRIDAY shuffle my music, broadcasting it in the kitchen loud enough to dance around to but not wake the others.

Food is almost done when I'm in the middle of singing into the knife I grabbed to cut up some fruit.

"SHOT THROUGH THE HEART AND  YOURE TO BLAME" chop chop chop "YOU GIVE LOOOVE  A BAD NAME"

I toss the knife behind me and spin around to flip the bacon, catching it with a little twirl. "I play my part and you play your games oooh you give loveee"  I begin setting the food on serving trays "a bad name."

As I'm dancing around the kitchen, enjoying the peace of cooking in an empty space, flicking the knife in the air and twirling it in my hand, I hear the team start to get up and around.

"She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean" what a great way to start the day, bomb music and a dance party. "She was the best damn woman that I ever seen. She had sig-" as the knifes handle lands deftly in my palm, someone interrupts my concert.

"I feel like I should be serenading you right now Doll. Lookin like that, cookin food like this, definitely the best damn woman I've ever seen."

With a squeak I had launched the knife towards the voice, Bucky plucking it out of the air, right in-front of his amused blue eyes. He was leaning against the doorway, legs crossed and sleep rumpled hair. Apparently he's been there a while and apparently he was blessed with beauty no matter his state of dress.

"Barnes what the hell! Warn a girl, jeez." I put my hand over my heart to calm it while pouring a cup of coffee, walking it over to the super soldier. "And damn straight I'm the best. Glad you've noticed."

He follows me into the kitchen, leaning against the counter sipping his drink. "You're pretty skilled with this." I guess that was his warning as he catapulted the knife towards my stomach. Well I deserved that, I thought as I caught it while skipping a few songs.

"You'll come to learn I'm skilled in a few things." I say with a wink. "Although, I don't think anyone works a blade like you do Sarge."

I look up to find him staring at me with a weird expression before he shook his head and smirked. "Well Doll, I could always give you some pointers if you ever wanna train with me."

I'm jamming to Back in Black when the rest of the team walks in. Throwing Bucky a smile over my shoulder and a quick "your on, meet after breakfast?" He gives a nod and sits at the island beside the others.

This could be fun. Or a disaster. Definitely not a good idea. But a fun one for sure.

I'm still bouncing around to AC/DC when Sam scowls at me. Well he looks like a grumpy kitten in the mornings apparently.

"You are definitely Tony's creation." He grumbled, followed by a thank you, as they started scarfing down breakfast.

•••

"Hey Ali, why are you wearing Buckys hoodie?" Peter mumbled around a giant bite of waffle, food flying everywhere.

I paused for a second then continued pouring myself some more coffee, giving Barnes a quick glance that he avoided, deeply interested in his bacon apparently.

"Oh I forgot I was still wearing it, sorry Sarge." I said with a chuckle. "Couldn't sleep last night so I watched a movie and Barnes ended up joining me. I got cold and he was ever the century old gentleman."

That earned a scoff from the old man.

"We're still leaving at lunch right? I'm craving a taco from downtown." Wanda pipped up from across the island.

"Yeah that sounds great, I'm gonna get a quick workout in beforehand."

Peter glanced up from his waffle mountain "Do you think you could stop by the lab and help me out with something? When you're done shopping?"

I see Bucky staring at me in my peripheral, eyeing the smile I force onto my lips. That lab just can't get rid of me huh Tony. "Yeah of course, I'll let you know when I'm headed there."

With that I head back to my room and throw on some shoes and a tank top, leaving Buckys hoodie on my bed. I did say it was mine now anyways.

The gym is a large, two story area with many connected rooms. I went into the sparing room, with mats on the floors and a wall of punching bags. After stretching and putting on some music, I work on the power behind my punches, trying to land harder blows for someone larger than me.

Getting lost in the feel of fist biting leather I let myself drift into thought. I still don't know how to incorporate myself into the team. They were all very kind and grateful this morning, talking about their plans and letting me know they will be interrogating the two bombers from yesterday.

Am I being too open? I'm usually serious and more reserved unless I'm comfortable with someone like Nicky or Tony. It's just that I want them to see more than my serious, throat slashing side. The team is already gloomy enough, but I don't want them too think I'm not taking this seriously. Finding that line is hard when I don't know how receptive three of them even are to me at the moment.

Wanda, Buck, and Peter all seem fine, but the others are more hesitant.

I finish a set with a spinning roundhouse, sending the bag against the wall, just as one of my favorite songs comes on shuffle.

Being on your own for essentially twenty-two years gives you very little option for conversation. Besides the times I stayed with Tony, I was alone. As a kid my teachers were just that and Nicky was there when he could be, but all I really had was myself.

So music is my release. All I ever really had to let loose and feel lighter when on the road or cleaning up after a mission.

So I sing along while launching daggers into a sparring dummy from across the room.

#avengers #avengers fic #black widow #bucky barnes #bucky barns fanfiction #captain america #endgame #marvel #spiderman #the falcon #iron man #bucky x oc #enemies to lovers #winter solder #sebastian stan

[slashbitch2]

Chapter Six (Jennifer Barkley x Reader)

Previous Chapter

The entire day, nay week leading up to Jen's arrival was fraught with tension. Time went all too quickly, yet dragged simultaneously. By Friday you were brimming with so much unnecessary energy that your productivity at work was comparable to that of Leslie, who's determination was currently your source of frustration. Had she not been so resolute about giving Jen a 'personal Pawnee tour', than you would've reunited at 5 rather than 9.

Admittedly, it was also your fault for not calling out her lengthy lie, but those extra four hours you had to suffer through were compensation enough.

In an attempt to pass the extra time, you tried to stay at work for longer, but Fridays were your half day and Ron demanded that you go home immediately, lest you do any extra government work. Reluctant to return to an empty house, you'd asked around if anyone wanted to hang out, and were met with a series of rejections.

Except for Ann, who upon being enlightened about the situation, insisted she help you get ready for your date (initially you refuted the title of 'date', but by the second hour of your evening it became tolerated). Her company, though unexpected, was more than welcomed. Having someone to share your excitement with made the increasing tension almost fun.

"Y/N?" Ann waved her hand in your line of vision, catching your attention. "We going in, or just spending the night in the car?"

"Don't tempt me." You muttered, grudgingly dragged out of your thoughts.

In front of you the queue to the The Snakehole Lounge was gradually growing. The sheer amount of people gathered outside was intimidating, so you dreaded to imagine how packed it'd be inside. Staying at home would've been preferable, but it seemed that time alone with Jennifer was not a luxury presently granted to you.

"Come on." Ann nudged you with her elbow. "You've been going on about this all day and now you're going to wuss out?"

You twisted round to face her, illuminated by the flickering multi-coloured lights beaming out the club's windows. She was watching you closely, trying to gauge how you felt based off expression alone. Despite all that was rushing through your mind, you were at a loss for words. How could you even begin to convey what you were currently feeling?

"Stop overthinking it." She said. "There's no way of knowing what'll happen when you see Jennifer again, but only you can change that, so just roll with it."

You paused to consider her suggestion, coming to the conclusion that she was more observant than you gave her credit for.

"You're right." You admitted, grateful that she'd knocked some sense into you. "Thanks." Awkwardly, you leant across the centre console to hug her. You didn't know Ann all too well, but needed some way of showing gratitude for her sensibility.

"This is nice." She relaxed into the embrace, then unwound an arm to glance at her watch. "But we're five minutes late so I'm pretty sure Leslie will be sending out a search party soon."

You chuckled, separating from Ann to glance at the building once more. Jen was somewhere inside waiting for you. She'd voluntarily returned to Pawnee, and to one of its less than fine establishments of all places, just because she wanted to see you again. The very notion had your heart racing.

"I'm ready."

---

The atmosphere of the club was as intense and unruly as expected. By the time you'd adjusted to the blinding lights and deafening music, Ann had already slipped away, replaced by Tom.

"Welcome this evening's esteemed VIP." He thrusted a disturbingly bright neon beverage into your hand. "Drink up."

"What is it?"

"Sweetums Fizz. My go-to drink for when I'm tryna get lucky." He winked. "But if it doesn't work out, feel free to give her my number."

Coming from Tom, that was the closest you would get to his blessings. So, unenthusiastically you took a sip of the dreadfully sweet drink , screwing up your face as you forced it down. Trying your best not to grimace at the taste, you smiled at him in thanks before he dispersed into the mass of people.

Next to approach was Leslie, who engulfed you in a crushing hug while spewing unintelligible nonsense about her trip. Usually her overly affectionate manner was too much, but this time you pulled her closer. If all went well tonight than you would be forever indebted to her.

Removing yourself from her grip, you interrupted her endless talk. "As much as I'd love to hear about Washington," You yelled over the obnoxiously loud music playing. "I can't hear a word your saying."

"Right." She nodded. "Wrong time, wrong place." There was a pause as the both of you were happy enjoying each others company. Since Jen's exit, Leslie had been so supportive and you'd missed her while she'd been gone.

Although, now wasn't the time for acknowledgements. "Have you seen Jen anywhere?"

"Oh, yeah." Leslie swivelled around and gestured in a general direction. "I think she said something about staying near the fire escape. Said this entire building was probably a hazard."

"That sounds like her." You grinned, spotting the green glowing fire exit sign. "Wish me luck."

"You don't need it." She patted your back, smiling reassuringly as you shuffled past.

Navigating through the crowd while keeping an eye on your target was a challenge. Several people bumped into you, their drink nearly spilling as they pushed past without an apology. However, nothing else mattered as you drew closer to the sign. Nothing else mattered except finding Jen.

Only she wasn't there.

As you struggled through the final row of people, you were met with yet another group of strangers. You sighed, absentmindedly swirling your glass as you resigned to return to Leslie. You then raised it to drink while turning round, though the necessary libation never reached your lips as you collided with someone.

The casualty gasped, stepping back as the cocktail spilled down the front of their dress.

"Shit." You froze, surveying the damage. "I'm so sorry-" You finally glanced up to face the woman and apologise again, but halted upon realisation.

Of course it was Jennifer. You just couldn't catch a break.

"I was going to surprise you, but looks like you got there first." She joked, scanning the vicinity for any kind of napkin. You joined the search, eventually spotting a couple abandoned on a table.

"Again, I am so sorry." You repeated, watching as she scrubbed at the stain. The attempt was futile as it didn't take long for the paper to be completely soaked through, and with little improvement to her dress. "Come on." You grabbed hold of her hand as she discarded the napkins, eager to try and improve this disaster of an event.

You maneuverer through the club with much difficulty while dragging Jennifer, who had an iron grip on your hand. Invigorated by the embarrassment, you arrived at the bathroom a mere minute later, all but shoving her inside one of the cubicles. Under the blaringly bright lighting you could assess the damage in greater detail.

"You know what?" She casually leant against the wall, waving her finger around. "I'm having some serious Deja-vu right now." You looked at her questioningly, pleased to see she didn't look too upset with the state of her dress. "Us together in a public restroom, you staring at my chest..."

You scoffed, reaching past her to grab the toilet paper. "Don't flatter yourself." You wrapped several layers around your hand, creating a makeshift towel. "Completely different circumstances."

"Same outcome though?" She raised an eyebrow suggestively, taking the bundle of paper from you.

"We'll just have to wait and see."

"I think you owe me." She scrunched up her face. "Or is throwing your drink over someone a traditional Pawnee welcome? Because that would explain the mess back there. Pretty sure every surface was sticky."

"Maybe you should wear one of those plastic ponchos next time." You muttered, nervously fidgeting with your hands.

The familiar anxiety from earlier seemed to have reappeared, you were unable to drag your eyes away from where they were fixated . Under the sobering bathroom light, everything had suddenly become very real. It had been years since you'd pursued any kind of serious relationship, and Jen was hardly the easiest person to start with. You tried to think about what Ann would say if she were here.

Probably something astute like "All the best things in life are worth fighting for." Too cheesy.

It'd be more "Nothing good comes out of running away from what you want, even if it's hard." Not inspirational enough.

Possibly "With great effort comes great gain." Nope. You'd definitely plagiarised that one from somewhere.

Maybe she'd-

"Y/N?" Jen ducked into your line of vision, bringing you back to reality. "Lost you there for a second." She smiled cautiously, resting a hand against your arm as if tethering you to the present.

"Sorry. I was thinking about something a friend said." You admitted sheepishly, placing your hand atop of hers. "Or would say if she were here."

"Oh yeah?" She carelessly threw the wad of paper behind, her full attention now on you. "And what would she say?"

You'd finally settled on what Ann would suggest. She'd say "Kiss her, idiot."

And you did.

#jennifer barkley #jennifer barkley x reader #jennifer barkley imagine

[ladyinbooks]

How good friends are hird and samiel? Are they closer than hird and lane?

Hi Anon,

I love this question, thank you! (And fair warning: it gives me so much of an excuse to talk about Samiel and Hird!)

So the very short answer is: yes. Ultimately, Hird and Samiel end up closer than Hird and Lane.

The much longer answer is: their friendship is much, much slower to develop. Hird and Jay like each other fine - they grow into close friends and trust one another (I think it's being chucked into the situation in Icarus, Burning that sort of bonds them together).

Samiel and Hird on the other hand, sort of come to a grudging mutual respect by the end of IB. They collaborate to fix Jay's mess, and they're both on the same wavelength when it comes to being seriously annoyed with his actions. It forms a mutual sort of camaraderie, that neither of them thinks is going to go anywhere, because they come from very different backgrounds, and neither of them is particularly willing to forgive and forget the respective grudges both of them have on a personal and a political level.

Then, Samiel heads off to join up as a Keryx with the Medusae, and sometime later Hird does too. Archon Ssafyr (being the sneaky smart cookie that she is), takes one look at the pair of them, and realises there's actually far greater benefit in pairing the two of them up for missions. They're going to learn far more about each other's thinking and culture than the Medusae could get from them by separating them.

What happens next is, I suspect, a series of missions that don't exactly go well, but aren't a disaster either. At some point Hird - much to her utter horror - realises that she has far more in common with Samiel than she'd realised. Worse, she finds she actually likes him as a person. They have similar outlooks; they tend to react to things in the same way, and I think their respective problem solving skills compliment each other. Hird also, I think, discovers her furiously protective streak is somewhat triggered when it comes to Samiel (in a way it isn't so much with Jay).

Samiel has a similar experience, I think. And around the same time, they both come to the mutual agreement that they're not going to admit they're actually friends, but quite frankly they'd take a bullet for one another (and then complain about it after).

In the long run, I think they also discover that unlike their respective better halves, they sometimes can't sit still and enjoy the politicking, or the peace and quiet. I think occasionally (once they're no longer formally working with the Medusae), they go off careening around the galaxy, creating trouble. (Jay lets them, because he's not going to deal with the headache of the pair of them causing havoc on Elysium, and Venndred just thinks it's good for Hird to get out of the house and do things, bless him.)

In short: yes, I think they become a disaster duo of a bromance, and both of them are genuinely appalled by it. XD

#lady replies #Samiel Tremark #Kate Hird