#or most harry parings really

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Can you talk about your thoughts on hinny? I have no problem with people shipping it but to me personally it just doesn't work. It feels like Rowling tried too hard or maybe just wasn't good at writing romance and messed it up. Maybe it was too rushed? The ship doesn't work for me but I'd love to hear your views.

Okay, sorry it took a while to answer this, I actually have a lot of thoughts and I have posts on some of them that I hope to get out soon-ish. I also wanted to go back to the books to make sure I'm not talking out of my ass. But I don't like Hinny, never did. And my reasons are kinda divided into three categories.

Disclaimer: I don't have anything against anyone who ships hinny, it's just really not my thing and I don't see it working with the way I see their characters.

And that's like the core of it. I just don't see Harry and Ginny as compatible on a character level. That and their relationship never really read as believable to me in the books.

The 3 categories I mentioned are:

Harry's character

Firstly, I think Harry is gay. Not bi, but gay. I think he was never actually attracted to a woman and I have a whole post to prove it. So, because that's how I read his character, I just can't really see him with any girl.

(Now, I don't think JKR intended for Harry to come off as gay, but he did)

Secondly, he never thought about Ginny, like, up until book 6, and even during large portions of book 6, he just isn't thinking about Ginny as a potential romantic interest. And when he does think about Ginny in the final two books it never reads like he really likes her. It reads like they decided they are dating, but I don't think Harry knows why he supposedly likes her. He just decided he does, but doesn't know why. It was kind of the same with Cho, where he said he had a crush on her and was nervous around her, but if you asked Harry what he likes about her, his answer would be: "Ehh...."

Like, Harry doesn't really seem to know why he's dating Ginny, and neither do I. It's just how it's written.

2. Ginny's character

So, this is again my opinion, but I don't like Ginny. I just don't like her character. I wish her off the page whenever she talks.

And, when it comes to shipping, for me, I need to find both the characters involved interesting and fun for me to explore to ship them together and care about the pairing. As I don't like Ginny and don't really care for her, I can't really ship her with anyone, not really. It's not even like I hate her (not the way I hate Dumbledore), I just find a lot of her actions and behavior iffy and she annoys me more often than not.

I'm not going to list everything I don't like about Ginny (some of it appears in the rest of this post). But her treatment of Fluer, for example, really soured her character to me. Like, sure, Ginny's young, but, she's 15, and by that point, I think she should take responsibility for being awful to Fluer who was nothing but nice to all of them. Envy is not a good look for Ginny.

3. How they are portrayed together

Like I mentioned in the Harry section, their romance just never really felt there to me. The descriptions were off and left me feeling annoyed at their scenes together more than anything else.

Again, I'm writing a more comprehensive post about it, but the gist of it is that Harry's thoughts about Ginny in books 6 and 7 are weirdly detached for a supposed crush at best or outright uncomfortable for me to read at worst.

Now, we know Harry can describe characters he finds attractive in greater detail. There is none of that detail with Ginny. He only mentioned her hair color and that her hair is long and smells nice. Like, he doesn't talk about her eye color, her facial structure, eye shape (like he does sometimes with characters he does find attractive) — nothing. He doesn't even call her pretty once! At least he referred to Cho Chang as pretty twice in the series.

In the books there is never a scene (not even one) that convinces me they should be together. Like, they have no chemistry. They kinda remind me of Ron and Lavender tbh. They make out and are present in the same space often, but they never talk. Not really. I don't think Ginny actually knows Harry all that well because he never honestly talks to her about anything real. They don't really have chemistry or a relationship, they're just together. At least, that's how I always saw them.

And yes, Harry has his jealousy moments (that are portrayed so weirdly I always narrow my eyes at them to make sure they were actually there, but that's a whole other post about Harry's chest monster of jealousy), but he still doesn't really explain what he finds in Ginny. He doesn't mention she's attractive or pretty at any point, nor does he mention anything he particularly likes about her personality (except that she doesn't weep like Cho and is good at Quidditch. Neither of which are particularly good basis for a relationship).

Like, Ginny mentions why she likes Harry and that she does multiple times. Harry by contrast, just feels so incredibly uninvolved in his own relationship, to me.

Also, personally, I just find the setup of their relationship iffy. Like Ginny outright says she never gave up on Hary and always knew they'd end up together. It means, that since she was 11 (or earlier), she was crushing on Harry, never gave up on her crush, and considered them ending up together fate. She dated other guys to make Harry jealous and pay attention to her, and that's just really gross. I don't like her long obsessive crush on Harry or her treatment of the other guys she dated on her way to get Harry.

Proof of that, for those wondering:

“I never really gave up on you,” she [Ginny] said. “Not really. I always hoped. . . . Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more — myself.”

(Half-Blood Prince, page 647)

She literally said she dated other guys so Harry would take notice of her. That just grosses me out.

So, no, I don't like Hinny (or Ginny).

#anti hinny #harry potter #harry potter thoughts #hp thoughts #hp #that being said I don't particularly like drarry either #or most harry parings really #like there are parings with him I don't mind in fic #but I'm not truly passionate about any of them #there is 1 harry pairing I actively like #but I got into it on accident and its with a very minor character #harry is my precious boy and deserves only the best #that's why I'm so picky about who I ship him with #ginny weasley critical #anti ginny weasley

[bucks-babe]

Virgin Bucky Gets His First Blowjob

Paring: Virgin!Bucky x f!reader

Summary: You give your boyfriend his first blowjob

Word Count: 2,148

Warnings: Established relationship, smut (Oral m!receiving), kind of sub!Bucky, Bucky is a nervous boy and gets a hard on during a movie, Bucky has a praise kink, Virgin!Bucky, No use of Y/N

A/N: Should I make a part 2 where Bucky loses his virginity to reader?

“Okay, doll, I’ve got everything set up. You pick a movie yet?” Bucky settles down next to you in his bed, making sure that there is no space separating the two of you. He wraps his right arm around your shoulder and you snuggle up into his side.

Your laptop is resting on both of your laps, your left thigh and his right thigh hold it in place. “Yes, and it’s one of my favorites!” You bounce in place just a little. “You’re gonna love it, Buck! It’s When Harry Met Sally.” Bucky chuckles at your excitement. Steve has his book of things to catch up with in the 21st century, and Bucky has you. 

“We’ll see, doll. You haven’t let me down yet.” In all honesty, Bucky was thoroughly enjoying the movie, Harry wasn’t the type of guy Bucky thought girls would go for, but most of his enjoyment came from how happy the movie seemed to be making you.

A few times you would catch Bucky staring at you instead of the movie; each time you would look back up at him he would pretend that he was immersed in the movie the whole time and you would nudge his side. It just made him so happy to see how much you were enjoying the movie, going so far as to mouth the lines alone with the actors.

“Yes it is! You are a human affront to all women, and I am a woman.” 

“Hey, I don’t feel great about this, but I don’t hear anyone complaining.”

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky is having the time of his life watching you act out the conversations, his heart never feeling so full in all his life. He truly doesn’t know what he did to deserve you, after all the horrible things he’s done in his life, he gets blessed with the most wonderful and understanding woman to call his.

His doll, his girl, who hasn’t even pressured him into anything. He felt bad at first, when he told you that he wanted to take things slow, thinking that you wouldn’t want to have a boyfriend who had no experience in the sexual realm. Of course, he’s kissed women, having his fair share of dames back in the 40’s, but he was a gentleman. He would take them out dancing, maybe make out in his car a little bit, but he never went farther than that. 

Now, after waking up after 80 some years, the last thing on his mind was having sex. That was until he met you, the minx who has awoken something inside of him, but he’s never acted on any of these feelings, too scared that he would disappoint you.

Ashamed that he was still a virgin, Bucky always stopped you before anything would get too heated, and you respected that. It didn’t make Bucky feel any better when he had to go to the ‘bathroom’ after a make-out session, but you never teased him about it, the both of you pretending that he really did need to go to the bathroom.

What the fuck?! Bucky’s attention is back on the movie when Sally has an ‘orgasm’ in the restaurant. Next to him, you’re giggling while watching her fake an orgasm, but Bucky, he’s not laughing. 

Bucky’s never seen a woman have an orgasm. Back in his day, the most accessible type of porn were dirty magazines that he used to hide under his bed so his ma wouldn’t find them. He tried to watch modern day porn after his not so mini sexual re-awakening, but after seeing some of the video titles, decided that porn was a no go for him, so this was sending all of the blood in his head straight to his dick. If it was over dramatized, he couldn’t tell, but his cock didn’t care. 

He felt it twitching in his sweats and he tried to subtly shift so you wouldn’t be able to see the bulge under the covers. Closing his eyes, Bucky tried to will his erection away; however, the scene seemed to never end and his cock got even harder at the thought of what you would look like when you came, how you would moan his name, how you would feel around him. 

He bets that you would look fucking spectacular spread out on this very bed with his cock burried deep inside of you. How your pussy would look swallowing him as he–

“Bucky, are you okay? You’re moving around a lot.” Shit! Bucky knows that he’s been caught. There is nothing he can do to hide the tent in his sweatpants; he curses himself for even wearing pants with so much give to them. 

“Uh…yeah, I’m good. My back’s a little stiff from the bed is all.” With how red his face and chest are, it’s a surprise that there is enough blood going to his dick to have it be as hard as it is.

“Your back? Are you sure? Cause I think I see the problem.” Double Shit!

“Doll, I’m sorry. It’s just that…” Your giggle cuts him off.

“Bucky, it’s okay. If you want I can give you a minute to sort,” you glance at his crotch, making it twitch in need, “that out.”

Bucky wishes that the bed could swallow him up whole so he wouldn’t have to deal with this. He’s a grown man for God’s sake and he’s popping wood at the first sign of something sexual!

“Or…” You drag on, “I could help you with that.” Bucky gulps, finding his throat to be drier than a desert.

“Doll, y-you don’t have to.” There’s a spark in your eye that you only have when you’re up to no good, like when you set Steve and Sharron up on a blind date after being sick of the pining between the two of them.

“But I want to, Bucky. Only if you’re okay with it.” His heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest, but he is so hard, and he trusts you with his body and soul.You know that he’s never done anything; you would be the last person on the planet to make fun of him. 

“O-okay. What do you want me to do, doll?” You close the laptop, effectively ending the movie; Bucky couldn’t give less of a shit what happens to Harry or Sally right now, not when you’re looking at him like he is a full course meal and you're starving.

“Absolutely nothing. I want you to lay right there and let me make you feel good. Can you do that for me, hmm?” Pulling the covers back, you settle between his thick thighs, resting your head on one and looking up at him.

“I-I can do that. Yeah.” He shifts so that his back is against the headboard. Bucky isn’t used to just laying back while someone else does the work, has never been like that, but for you he would do just about anything if you asked.

Your hands go to the waistband of his sweats and boxers while you give small kisses to the outline of his cock through both layers. “Good boy,” you whisper on his cock, chuckling when it jerks under your mouth and he whines. Ooh, he’s a vocal one, you think as you look up at his flush face.

Bucky lifts his hips off the bed when you tug at his waistband, and his cock smacks against his clothed stomach, precum leaking onto his shirt. With his cock and balls on display, Bucky fights the urge to close his legs and cover himself up; no woman, or man, had ever seen him like this, but he wants this so bad. He trusts you; if he wants to stop, you’ll stop, but heaven forbid if you stop now.

He’s fucking big, too. You don’t know if you’re going to be able to fit his entire length in your mouth, but you’re sure as hell gonna try! Starting at his thighs, you give wet, open mouth kisses, leaving beautiful bruises on his skin. Whimpering, Bucky tries to get your mouth on his cock; all of your teasing is only making his balls fuller than he thought was possible and more precum ruin his shirt.

“Please, doll. Suck it.” His toned hips leave the bed in chase of your mouth. He can’t count how many times he’s fucked his fist thinking about how the tight heat of your mouth would feel wrapped around his cock. Even now, with you kissing up and down his length, tracing his most prominent vein, it’s not enough.

“Shh, big boy, I’m getting there. You’re just so pretty I have to paint you.” His cock bounces from the force of its throbbing and another whine leaves his plump lips.

Eventually, you take pity on him and his begging, and you take the tip in your mouth and give it a harsh suck. “Oh Fuck! Do that again, doll!” He throws his head back, making contact with the headboard with a loud thunk. Hands flying to the sheets, and hips chasing your mouth, Bucky damn near chokes on his own spit.Christ, you’ve barely touched him and he’s about to burst.

Loving his reaction, you grab the base of him and spit on his tip, watching it roll down to where your hand rests, only to use your spit as lube to drag your hand up and down, feeling him pulse and throb in your hand. “Come on, doll. Please! I need more.” 

He was fisting the sheets, not wanting to force your head down, but wanting you to take him down your throat at the same time. Deciding not to torture him anymore, you licked your lips before taking as much length in you mouth as possible.

“GOD, FUCK!” His hips flew up to meet your mouth, making you gag. He was trying his hardest to stay in control and not force your pace, but fuck, he wasn’t expecting it to feel this good. You quickly found a steady pace, hollowing your cheeks and using your tongue to lap at his dick. Salavia coated his entire dick and was leaking down to his balls, making your movements that much easier.“What the fuck! Doll, that feels fucking incredible. More, please. Give me more! Shit! That feels so good!” Such a needy little thing.

There were still a few inches of his dick that you couldn’t fit in your mouth, so you used one hand to work the remaining length and the other hand to massage his balls. His cock was leaking precum and you could feel his heavy sack tense up in your hand; you knew he was about to cum, even before he did.

Bucky pulled you off his cock. “Doll! I’m gonna cum!” It took you a second to register why he pulled you off when he was about to cum, but you then realized, he didn’t think you wanted to swallow - How wrong he was.

“If you’re gonna cum, baby, I want you to cum in my mouth.” Not waiting for a response, you took his cock back into your mouth, taking him all the way to the base, letting him fuck your mouth with the little jerks of his hips. The sounds leaving his mouth were almost akin to sobs, making you clench your thighs together to quell the ache between your legs.

“Fuck, I’m cumming!”  His cum shot out in thick streams and you tried to swallow around his cock, but more and more cum would shoot out. You lapped up every single drop of his cum that you could, some of it dripping down to his balls. When his hips tried to jerk away, you pulled off his cock to lick his balls clean and tuck his softening cock back into his pants.

With a dopey look on his face, Bucky gave you the prettiest smile, having experienced the best orgasm of his overextended life. “I really liked the movie, doll.” He laughed after you giggled. After coming back down to reality, Bucky frowned, “doll, I wanna make you cum, too.”

“Oh, Buck, I didn’t do that because I wanted anything in return,” you repositioned yourself next to him in bed, ignoring the throbbing of your pussy, “I did it because I wanted to make you feel good.”

There’s still a pout on his lips, wanting you to feel good as well. “Another day, Bucky. I don’t want to overwhelm you with too much in one day, okay?” Eventually, he agrees, becoming compliant after getting his soul sucked out of his body.

“Next time, doll, you’re gonna teach me how to make you cum.” God, you love this man.

“Oh, I look forward to it.” This man is going to wreck you and you can’t wait.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #sebastian stan x reader #Virgin!bucky #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan imagine #bucky barnes drabble

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Friends in the Crucible

MOTA PACIFIC THEATRE || FLIGHT SURGERY AU

1: Welcome to Hell Island

Requested by the sweet @forsythiagalt

AU NOTE: due to a long-standing crush on real life heroine Ensign Jane Kendeigh and her work on Iwo Jima, the current ongoing anniversary of the battle and a hope to not step on the toes of any existing Nurse!xBuck pairings -I’ve gone with what excited my imagination the most and created an entire Pacific AU with our MOTA boys. If this AU ends up being as interesting and stimulating to y’all as it was for me in writing it, I’d be terribly down for exploring more scenarios with everyone in their new and varied roles.

Main paring: Gale Cleven and OC Flight Nurse Ensign Maureen Kendeigh…cameos by “Doc” Egan, John Brady, Ken Lemmons, Harry Crosby and Benny Demarco…and maybe a nod to a certain Marine Captain named “Andy” who I refused to let die, even though he was never on this island. You neither need to have seen HBO’s Pacific or know about the history for this to make sense, in fact it might help my ignorant writing go down better without it 😏

Warnings: WAR?! Graphic descriptions of wounds, battlefields, gore, foul language, period typical language: use of the word “Jap” and a joking insult of “fish eater” for a Catholic. Hints that John Egan is a terror to his nurses, Cleven having to take his pants off for a wound to be examined, brief mentions and emphasis on his never having been touched by a woman intimately, a nurse positioning a man’s member out of the way to his surprise, strictly professional tho. No joke, really. But they’re having a bit of a moment.

Only proof read once. So many thanks to Bee, Christi and Ashley who all enabled me into going this rogue with a simple request and for giving edits and assurances. Hope y’all enjoy!

There were a whole lotta jolts in the descent. Of course there were. Why, there were jolts and bumps even coming down to the runway at Pearl or San Diego, and there had been far more than jolts on the training tarmacs in Kentucky. She had been in enough planes, experienced enough banging about, and had enough wheels up landings that Maureen felt somewhat entitled to her opinion on the necessity of jolts or none.

So far, Major Gale Cleven had piloted this monstrous tin can like a limo, smooth, steady and with full warning for each bank and turn. Maureen had not even had to catch a single falling bottle so far and the rows of empty bunks lining each side of the plane had hardly rattled except in the same low humming frequency of the ever thrumming engine.

But now there were jolts. And of course there were, they were flying straight into a warzone. Cleven had gotten them to Iwo Jima two hours ago, and since that time he’d been circling the island in a wide arc, casually waiting for a pesky air battle between fighters to calm down enough for him to land. Sure, the beaches had been wiped clean and a landing strip had been carved out of volcanic ash and marine corps blood -cleared for their use. But still, there were Jap bunkers, Jap planes, Japs themselves and Jap equipment in that smoldering mountain and so far, no word had come down definitely as to when the island might be considered secure.

It was all very historic, Maureen has been assured -allowing a woman into a combat zone. First time ever, so they kept erroneously insisting. That’s why there was a man armed with a camera and not plasma sitting a few lines down from her on the cold metal bench. Maureen had once had plenty of time to ponder the historicity of her mission and that of her fellow nurses back in Guam, right now she wished she could focus solely on her training and ignore the ominous crack-pop of something hazardous in the air and the resulting wobble of Major Cleven’s steering.

Stupidly she wished the Major’s low voice would come back on through the near radio system and soothe them all back down like frightened livestock. Gale Cleven had a way of managing that even with his face obscured, and while it made Maureen blush to admit she needed any calming, the facts were she was 24 years old, practically untried and desperate to be brave enough to be of use. Rattling on the bench seat between equally nervous girls and a hawk-eyed journalist was no match for the cuticle picking anxiety.

Maureen chose to forcefully look up from said bloody cuticles and was met by Major Egan’s gum smacking grin across from her. How many carriers had he been on when they went down? Kamikaze planes jutting out the side of them, ocean water pouring in, sharks abounding and hundreds of patients under his care, in his charge to tow to shore?

Mild, scattered, poor-man’s flack wasn’t remotely disturbing to their flight surgeon. “He’s great, isn’t he?” Egan yelled to her cheerfully, the jerk of his head suggested his praise was directed towards someone in the cockpit.

Maureen knew well enough that much as Egan respected the co-pilot Demarco, it was no match for the love affair between him and Cleven, an appreciation that had Egan’s special request yanking his friend from Air Force to Navy to Transit. Such a series of bounces in a man’s otherwise distinguished career, all to chauffeur one charmingly entitled flight surgeon, was enough to put anyone into a bad mood -it would explain Major Cleven’s initial coolness on meeting them all at the departure tarmac.

Or maybe he was just businesslike. Maureen couldn’t fault anyone for that. He had been prepped, perhaps not as much as she had, but he didn’t act entitled in any way, and he kept the plane steady. Except for this mounting series of jolts.

“Yes,” she had chosen to holler back to Doctor -Lieutenant Commander? Bucky No Shits? Johnny? Doc “Smirky”?- Egan, knowing he’d want a favorable report on his friend, “it’s been remarkably smooth.”

Maureen was glad truth aligned with diplomacy in this instant. Although if any man could handle the outright truth it was John Egan, no matter what they all said. And “they” said a lot, he had once had two marine squadrons under his care and to them he was a Marine, simultaneously he’d had three navy squadrons to take care of and to them he was a Navy man. He’d even switched uniforms thrice in a day before. And now he was being flown about by his best friend to tend carcasses on a foreign strand, oddly suited to terrible conditions and bad scenarios, offering medical aviation expertise and poorly timed jokes wherever he went.

He’d trained her group of specialized Evacuation Flight Nurses the last three weeks of aquatic conditioning in the states, and he’d culled eighteen out of the group for getting winded after towing full grown men seven laps in the San Diego surf -all while puffing on a cigarette himself, seated with sunglasses on in an motorized dinghy. Maureen had come to hate him that day, and every day after she’d come to want to be like him. Kathleen Martin got her wings pinned first and Maureen right after, “well done, Candy!” Egan had praised while his fist drove in the tack.

“It’s Kendeigh, sir.” Maureen had dared correct for the hundredth time that training week, “Pronounced like: Ken-Day.”

“Cand-ay. Got it!” he repeated with jovial affirmation and that was that.

Major Cleven had given her the respect of calling her ‘Ensign’ as he shook her hand, a quick and firm squeeze and on to her next companion, she’d have judged him as too pristine in everything from mannerisms to features were his war record not ample justification for his bearing. The low cadence of his voice over the coms came in as a slight pitch to the plane and a swoop of decline in altitude became apparent under her—

“All personnel prepare for landing.”

Cleven was nothing like those pilots during training, barking orders laced with frantic warning in their voices. It was a cow pasture back in Kentucky and there they’d had no good reason for alarm. Here where there was real reason, Gale Cleven crooned to them and John Egan smiled opposite her as he took in the effect his chosen pilot had on his nurses.

“Like soothin’ a baby,” Egan sighed as he lounged a little deeper on his bench, long legs deceptively braced for impact, Maureen had long ago learned the man was nothing but smoke and mirrors of his actual intentions, “isn’t he great? In danger of fallin’ asleep with that guy at the wheel.”

To emphasize his point -or more likely to distract “his girls” from the imminent prospect of landing on a battleground, Egan leaned back all the way and tipped his cover over his eyes, pretending to fall asleep. Maureen caught him as he cocked one sharp eye open to see if she was still watching. She gave him a hopeless smile of recognition of his disguised kindness before forcefully suppressing a gasp of shock as the plane hit Amtrak smoothed gravel and ground its way down the beach. Egan hadn't budged by the time the momentum ceased and the plane became bizarrely still after hours of vibrating travel.

“Right. That’s us.” He straightened up, his cover and his posture, rising up in his seat and slapping at the metal ceiling of the plane, “Good job Buck.” he hollered and got no reply. “He’s still crabby about flying a C-47.” he divulged to no one in particular as they all rose and prepared to disembark, drilled for ages in this routine and finally let loose to practice it. Egan’s nonchalance was almost disorienting for such a momentous occasion.

The large cargo door was opened and a irreverently pleasant tropical breeze funneled through the plane, bearing with it the sounds of crashing waves and popping, far off gunnery. There was also a smell that came with it, sulfur and sweet. It was sickening from the first, and Maureen dreadedly wondered if it was from volcanic fumes and rotting vegetation or something more heartbreaking. With her kit on her back she followed her companions out the cargo door, finding Major Cleven blank faced and unphased on the tarmac beside it. Nothing but a smidge of sweat around his hairline to suggest the hours of flight he’d just clocked and the wacky landing he’d managed so well.

“Welcome to hell island, ladies.” he greeted in a droll monotone and Maureen’s gait stiffened without her permission.

There was no true tarmac, as they had been warned, just a strip of cleared back sand churned up by Cleven’s wheels. Lapping waves were on the left side and then a field of sheets to the right. It was the oddest sight. Rows and rows of camo tarp and white sheets blotted pink, hardly a spot of sand to be seen between. They’d been warned it was havoc here, the situation so bad that they’d finally allowed for this exception, allowed the sending in of specialized units to evacuate by air as the boats could hardly ferry enough of the wounded out in time to save them. But this -this beach of corpses was so daunting a task it seemed impossible to choose where to start.

“John,” she heard Major Cleven address Lieutenant Commander Egan as he dropped down beside her, “you’ve only got so many births, do what ya need to do to fill them, but I’ve got my orders. You’re not settin’ up a hospital. When we get the supplies off, get this plane full -we’re takin’ off. Full stop. I’m not gonna have us here like sittin’ ducks for the mortars while you fuss.”

“I hear ya.” Egan assured him in that remarkably unassuring way of his and lit a cigarette. “Alright nurses, gather round.”

Triage was crucial for such a mission, the prioritizing of wounds and necessary services essential for prolonging the lives of those in imminent peril, versus those with the likelihood of surviving on only the essentials found in a corpsman or medic’s arsenal. They’d be back tomorrow with another flight, and the day after that. Cleven was right that they weren’t here to establish a hospital, yet still the idea of how many would perish from being left behind, even by this first flight, was a sickening probability Maureen has been trained to ignore.

“Where are all the corpsmen?” Egan asked one pharmacist's mate who came to greet them, picking his way through the rows of groaning men. The boy couldn’t have been a day over seventeen.

“Up there,” the kid had nodded up to Mount Suribachi and its ominous veil of smoke, “or dead. Lost so many in the first week they started sending us in to substitute. We’ve done what we can. Sure glad to see you guys.”

“What’s your name, boy?”

“Lemons, sir.”

“Hell I can’t call someone a lemon, now can I?” Egan’s grin was infectious and the boy grinned back like he was seeing his first friend in ages.

“Then it’s Kenny. Sir.”

“Yeah alright Kenny, let’s get to it.” Egan had drilled you all so thoroughly you could have performed even without the aid of the grounded pharmacists and their mates, yet still it was odd to see such a mass of wounded and so few to tend them. The desperation and chaos was tangible.

Maureen had barely set off out from under the plane wing when Gale Cleven’s brusque reprimand arrested her steps as forcefully as a tug to her flight suit would have, “That bunch don’t need your help.”

The terse judgment in his tone gave her sharper eyes to notice that the particular section she was headed towards all had sheets pulled over their faces. Her own face blanched at both the misstep and the sensory overload of so much sorting to do. She wasn’t going to feel sorry for herself, not here, not when faced with the easy part of all this, and she wasn’t going to be crippled by criticism while enduring her first trial by fire. “Right, thank you, Major.” she agreed with him as stoically as possible and ground her heel back around on the sand and tromped off towards the direction of sheets that were visibly alive and writhing in misery.

That changed as soon as they saw her girlish form walking amongst them. Sounds of dying anguish changed to cheerful wolf whistles and happy greetings. It made Maureen’s heart swell with pride at the unbreakable spirit in each of them.

She spent the next hour and a half amongst those men.

Gruesome was a word that Maureen swore to herself that she would never use lightly again. She wasn’t one given to hyperbole anyway, and her years apprenticing in the hospital in Manilla and her most recent training for exactly such wounds as these, understandably led her to believe she knew the mettle of such a word.

But no.

Gruesome, she decided as she began her task again and again, applied only to this: the way the tiniest slip of her hand on any part of this poor boy took skin with it, charred and soupy flesh squishing off meat and sinew like the flaky crust on a prime bit of brisket. It was the only comparison fitting. His own flamethrower had bitten him as he tried to take a countless next pillbox. He’d said it like a joke even as his teeth chattered too hard from pain to deliver the punchline.

Maureen wasn’t here to contemplate ironies, or the unfairness of war, she was here to find some intact vein through which to stab her needle and begin giving him back the blood that was slowly leaching into the black sand beneath him. Ensign Smith was holding up the bottle, throwing a shadow over his charred form that helped Maureen discern a bit better, giving the boy a kind word or ten of reassurance about home and pain relief. Maureen bit through her own tongue when she finally slid the needle home, deep and pulpy, she could only pray it would hold the blood they gave back.

“Alright, bandages, Smith.” Maureen decided and did her best not to jump as a mortar thumped on the sand, hundreds of yards away, but still, they were getting ever closer, proving Major Cleven’s grim prognostication to not be unfounded. He was confirmed that the Japanese didn’t give two shits about red crosses, much less cargo planes carrying in supplies and taking away wounded. Maureen tried not to dwell on it as she and Smith began cutting away filthy uniforms and wrapping their patients' flesh in the Vaseline soaked bandages. It was a terrible business for the first few minutes before the interlaced numbing agents in the gauze took affect and made their care something less like torture for the poor men.

Some of them could walk, a missing leg being a mild injury comparatively, they just needed the helpful shoulder of a technician and off they went to amble into Cleven’s plane. There the Major met them despite it being beyond his purview, handing out cigarettes even though he himself abstained and kept an eye on the Navy mechanic refueling his plane from a bullet riddled jeep. When he wasn’t doing that he was scanning the sky, aviators turned up and reflecting a cloudless sky. Maureen’s mouth grew chalky at the thought of what he was looking out for.

Once wrapped and tended, the men were ready to be hoisted on stretchers and taken to the plane. But those men were select ones, ones that Egan had decided upon. He had a particularly odd way of triaging, one that upon initial observation appeared rather callous and aloof to his nurses who had been trained as much in medical practice as in solicitous decorum.

Doc Egan moseyed through the ranks of wounded, keenly aware he was not as popular as his pretty faced nurses, but making up for it with such easy-going banter that chuckles followed him wherever he went, making the men forget that he was deciding who got relief and who did not. Who were to be permitted the cooling sheets of Elysium by nightfall and who were to be left burning on the sand. Puffing a cigarette and making small talk, he clocked each injury and each likelihood of recovery without giving a bit of it away.

Nearing Maureen’s own patient of the moment, she felt him crouch down beside her and take in the hopeless gut wound she was ineffectually trying to stuff with bandages. A sturner superior would tell her not to bother, to move on, save such determination for someone with a longer life expectancy than five minutes. Maureen found it hard to make that call herself when met with the pleading eyes of someone’s dying son.

“C’mon Candy, move over, lemme try.” Egan murmured and his hip knocked hers gently as he crouched over the boy, perfectly aware of the futility. “Hey bud, breathe for me, breathe. You wanna smoke?”

Egan’s now bloody fingers reached up to his own lips and plucked his fresh and third cigarette of the hour and brought it down to the boy’s chapped mouth, shifting until he was fully seated on the sand, arms around the kid’s shoulders, gently taking the refreshment away when he puffed out, then replacing it for another inhale.

Maureen knew better than to linger. Beside this scene of brotherly last rites was another dying man and a hundred more beside him, so she moved on, seeing only vaguely the way the kid coughed blood as he laughed at Egan’s conversation. The topic seemed to be on the boy’s dog back home. The Sergeant she was tending added in a bit of teasing over the name -who names their dog “puppy”?!

Maureen had barely managed a tourniquet on the sergeant's arm before she could suddenly hear Egan’s gentle chatter turn to low shushing.

The sergeant looked away to the other side.

Maureen noticed the discarded cigarette laying on the sand, it had been smoked to a stub.

The heaving rattle of panicked breath beside them stopped.

Egan shifted onto his knees again and his long, bloody fingers dragged those sightless eyes closed. There was the brittle clink of dog tags being checked.

The sheet was tugged up all the way.

That triage was over.

Maureen politely ignored Doc Egan’s harsh sniff beside her -it was dusty here- but clocked the way he rose to his feet, a rough brushing off of his flight suit and his brusque inquiry regarding her morphine distribution in sector 2.

“All tended-“ she had begun when a shout from the far off plane rang out-

“-JOHN!” That was Cleven’s unmistakable bellow and Egan, despite being in a human sea of potential Johns- responded like he’d been made to hear that one voice alone. “Incoming, west!”

“Shit.” Egan spun westward and sure enough there were fighters with a blazing red sun, rushing straight down at them.

They were such a distance away still, Maureen doubted Cleven’s sight for all of fifteen seconds before horror set in. “They wouldn’t-?” she looked up at Egan whose bitten lip suggested that they would indeed strafe these poor men given the chance.

“Stretchers!” Cleven yelled again, “Get ‘em under the wings!”

There was a callous logic to it. Those men already prepped to be saved might as well be prioritized this much more. Fairness wasn’t something promised in war and Maureen chose to hate Gale Cleven instead of some ephemeral “war” for verbalizing the awfulness of that necessary.

“Do it.” came Egan’s agreeing order and Maureen and Smith took their respective sergeant down near the waterline at a run, fifteen other nurses and the various techs mimicking them. They deposited their men under the relative safety of the flimsy wings and dashed back out for more, leaving two techs behind to hoist the poor fellas into the cargo hold and deposit them in their respective bunks.

“Come onnnnn.” Cleven’s warning yell was drowned by the commencement of allied anti aircraft higher up the beach, trying to pick off the fighters before they reached the landing strip.

Maureen hardly noticed the closing drone of the fighter’s approach, nothing but her heart beat and memorized lines of her training on repeat in her ears. She’d been trained to fight hand to hand if necessary, her folks knew the risks of their daughter volunteering for such service but there was a sour dampening of resolve at the idea of being picked off from the air, not even allowed a bit of struggle to go out with.

All she could do was lift, hoist, run, deposit, do it all again.

They were getting near to full. On one pass through she saw Cleven counting berths and scolding poor Ensign Courter for her rushed method of securing her charge- “five feet drop to the floor on my first bank, oughta be just what that chest wound needs. For God’s sake, I’ll do it!”

He had a cold sort of fury to him Maureen found obnoxiously potent, and she felt a judgment rise in her for his obvious haste in wanting to get out of there. To his credit, when the planes did go by and everyone hit the ground, he was still standing yanking on the straps to secure the top bunk. Bullets punctured the side of the plane and riddled it, tiny specks of light flooding into the dark hold. One man was grazed as he lay in there.

“John!” Cleven warned again after they’d gone by.

“I know, I know damnit.” Egan snapped back from yards away, “There’s just not enough corpsmen -let me finish my damn job.”

“By the time you finish yours I won’t be able to finish mine.” Cleven retorted and the obvious finally occurred to Maureen -perhaps it was not his own safety that preoccupied him but the fragile capability of his riddled plane being able to evacuate once full. That, was indeed, his job. Still, such sentiments expressed as they were from the shelter of the cockpit and from a man who favored a silk blue neck scarf identical to the shade of his eyes, rankled Maureen.

The returning buzz of the Japanese fighters coming back around only cemented her futile rage. Her arms were aching and the sand caught at her boots and her mouth was dry with dust and there were so many, so, so many more left to help. Ensign Smith had been called away to assist with lifting another, and Maureen was knelt beside the man they’d managed onto a stretcher, doing her damndest to find how many bullets were embedded in his left leg and how deep the shrapnel was on his right. There was so much blood and filth it was impossible to tell and Andy, as his name was, couldn’t give her much help besides informing her it hurt like hell and she sure was a sight for sore eyes.

“Egan! At your three o’clock!” There was Cleven again.

Maureen grinned back at Andy and forced it to stay on her face as the buzz of the approaching fighters grew imminent and the dreadful thwump of machine gun fire thudded into the earth yards up the beach. It hit the section of the dead first, a further injury and dishonor. Maureen felt a lump in her throat at the realization she had no one near to help her lift this stretcher and that Andy himself hadn’t a usable leg to spare.

“Go.” her patient told her with a clear look of realization on his face as the leaden spatter of strafing began to elicit responses from those wounded men still alive enough to react.

“No.” The refusal came out of her mouth about as naturally as taking the next breath.

A shadow threw over them for a second and Andy’s facial expression grew surprised, but, stubbornly focused on her patient’s face, Maureen assumed it was the plane passing by at last and chose not to spend her last seconds watching what was going to kill her. “Ensign Kendeigh, lift.” Major Cleven’s voice was so close so suddenly it spooked her flat on her backside until she saw him, squatting down and casting a shadow at the head of the stretcher, poles gripped in both hands, ready to hoist. She scrambled to the foot and took the wood in hand, lifting for the twentieth time that day and running towards the plane.

Time was slow and fast all at once. Cleven’s shadow had come before even the first fighter. But as they ran it zipped by, bullets flinging up sand into their eyes, a near miss. The second one was close behind and as they ran near to the wings, they saw no room was left under them, as crowded as an awning at Coney Island during the height of summer.

Maureen squatted fast and lowered the foot of the stretcher, feeling Cleven mimick her movements behind her. Before she could turn ‘round and enact her training, there their pilot was, body draped over the battered Marine captain, his back as stalwart and protective as the wings of his plane. Maureen threw herself to the ground as well, propping herself over Andy’s battered legs. Together they made a turtle shell of sorts and, damned to be caught cringing when death took her, Maureen kept her eyes open and stared back at Gale Cleven’s gentle face as the -thud-thud-thud- passed them, a micro expression of assurance twitching his mouth and eyes as death passed over.

Who needed to look at the sky when you could find God in those eyes his mother gave him?

For as long as she lived, Maureen would never forget the gust of his spearmint scented breath on her face, the first sensation she registered as soon as the planes were past and they yet remained, alive, locked together above a man they’d both risked dying for.

“Major, you shouldn’t’ve.” Andy’s rough voice spoke Maureen’s own dazed sentiments as they straightened up, Cleven picking up his fallen aviators from the sand, “You gotta fly us outta here, you die an’we’re all sitting ducks.”

“Eh, that’s why we have co-pilots, Skipper.” Cleven grinned before glancing back at the sky, his face morphing into anything but carefree.

“Is that how Lt. DeMarco feels?” Maureen teased wearily.

“I’d never presume to know how Benny Demarco feels.” Cleven replied levelly but the corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement, “Ensign Kendeigh, give me a task.” he demanded.

“Sir-“

“I want us outta here in ten.” His tone held no room for argument, “What’s somethin’ even a dumb pilot can manage? Egan!” He yelled as the Lieutenant Commander approached them at a jog, his dark face the picture of rage for the men in his care being further hurt. “Out in ten.”

“Not gonna happen, still got supplies to distribute-“ Egan was visibly inscenced.

“-one more pass on my plane and we’re not gettin’ up. Look at that back wheel” Cleven replied, nodding at the deflating tire. “Hand me your shit, what’re we supplyin?”

“Aren’t you queasy for needles?” Egan balked, finding time for teasing despite himself.

“Hand me the damn syrettes.” Cleven stuck his hand out.

“You're under Candy’s orders.” Egan stipulated, pointing to Maureen and Cleven nodded.

“Yup, and we leave in ten.”

“Okey Buck, go, go, go.”

The nurses that had gone before them had tagged and labeled each, making it easy for Maureen and Major Cleven to squat along the rows and complete what help could be given. Her other companions were doing the same, each staggered at a few yards and assisted by Corpsmen and pharmacists. And despite the tension from the strafing and the dismal prospect of having to leave so many behind, the hum of chatter soon picked up again on the beach.

“Shit, shit, shit, no-I hate needles!” Marty, eighteen years old but with eyes that had seen a little too much, bore his dressing with tired stoicism until Cleven pulled out the morphine syrette.

“Son,” Gale murmured with barely concealed amusement, “your side looks like a bear cub teethed on it, you’ll be fine. And this’ll help.”

“Don’t ‘son me’ you baby faced glamor boy.” Marty spat back, marine corps superiority coursing through his admittedly impressive veins.

Gale was midway through a good natured snicker at Marty’s venom when the heavy shock of lobbed mortars began to thud the beach again. “Jesus.” the Major sounded more annoyed than surprised and had the wherewithal to place a restraining hand on Marty’s chest as the kid began to scramble up in panic, displacing Maureen’s dressing on his ribs.

“Cleven, they’re chewin’ up our strip!” Demarco yelled to them from the cockpit and sure enough, craters were beginning to form at the end of their taxi-able stretch of beach.

“Don’t leave me! Don’t leave Major!” Marty suddenly clutched at Cleven and the Major had to wrench his arm free. “Calm down, private, you’re on a stretcher.” he then ducked his head as he moved round to seize the poles, “And if there’s one thing you should know,” he went on in a low murmur just for Marty’s benefit, “it’s that Doc Egan doesn’t waste his stretchers on dead men.”

Carrying Marty’s stretcher to the plane was Maureen’s last jog down the beach. She ran up the cargo ramp and Cleven was after her, handing over the task of racking the private into a bunk to one of the nurses before sternly ordering a path for himself through the crowded belly up to his cockpit. Demarco had the full radio system on, the better to communicate with the nursing personnel as they prepared for take off, and everyone aboard could hear his exasperated greeting as his reckless officer took his seat.

“You really game enough to try to get this Goony off the ground with less than a thousand feet of strip?” Benny’s broadcasted doubt made most nurses pause in their work and Maureen met Andy’s eye from the third bunk halfway along the plane wall.

“I thought he said that’s why they have co-pilots.” Andy joked to her quietly.

“Mm,” she agreed mischievously, “I guess co-pilots are one thing, co-Clevens are another.”

“Should find a way to mass produce.” Andy sighed, “War would be over in five seconds.”

Gale Cleven hadn’t even refuted Demarco’s concern verbally and already the crew shrugged it off, if Major Cleven couldn’t get them off Hell Island then no one could, and that was that.

“John Egan, get your ass onboard, it’s wheels up.” Cleven’s yell out the window blasted through the radio, too, and the girls grinned at each other -Major Egan wasn’t one to get bossed about. But, as if to challenge everything they knew about life and their own superior, mere seconds later, John Egan was hopping up into the belly of Cleven’s plane with his empty sack dangling and sweaty hair in disarray. “We’ll be back Kenny!” he yelled to the young pharmacist’s mate left on the sand as the cargo door was hastily wrenched shut by Brady.

“Honey I’m home.” Egan yelled up to the front and Demarco’s snicker echoed along the walls of the tin belly.

“Everybody stow your gear,” Cleven’s order came through, the pounding vibration of nearby mortars shuddering the plane even more than the engine’s revving, “we’re gettin’ outta here now. S’gonna be bumpy.”

“That’ll be one word for it.” Demarco snarked, “Death by bumps.”

The human cargo in the plane, those not groaning or insensible, let up a unanimous chuckle. It helped to have been to hell and back, a quick death as a plane failed to get air and plowed instead into a sand bank was hardly the worst prospect these men had faced.

“Believe, Benny, believe.” Maureen could hear Cleven’s soft smile in his voice as the wheels began to roll.

Brady, their engineer, navigator and the lone crewman besides the pilots aboard this transport, kindly manhandled Maureen to a seat between his legs on the rattling floor beside Egan’s built-in desk, his hand fisted in the back of her jumpsuit collar like she was a kitten. They kicked their legs out together and braced as they gained speed and the plane began to jostle into the milder craters at an ever more intense pace.

Shell fragments made a series of charming bangs off the side of the wing nearest her and Maureen could hear Brady whispering behind her in repetition “God spare the oxygen, God spare the oxygen, God spare-“

“50-“ Demarco’s countdown was unfortunately broadcasting like some morbid game announcer and Maureen could see Egan’s jaw ticking in stress under the harsh overhead lights.

There was a terrible blast in front, the sound of shattering glass or metal and a jarring shudder went through the plane, “Damnnit.” Cleven hissed but the acceleration remained.

“You hit?”

“No. Read me, Benny-“

“80-“ Demarco obligingly resumed counting.

“C’mon Buck.” breath gusting on Maureen’s neck behind her, as Brady had begun to direct his prayers to the Major now and as if in answer, the stomach swooping feeling of flight took over them seconds later as the cargo plane let out a mighty roar of strained endurance and lifted with a wobble that had more than a few bunks puking their guts out. There’d be over five hours to clean the plane floor and attend to housekeeping if they could just level out and stay up long enough to get out of range.

Down the way from them Egan was still seated, one hand holding aloft a not yet hung plasma bottle and the other gripping a support bar. But his head was starting to nod like a dancer keeping pace with the band’s ever growing tempo. The engines had a beat, if you’d been personal with a plane long enough to pick it up, and Maureen paid attention to Egan’s stippling fingers on the cross bar as they mounted and mounted, little bursts of enemy gunnery causing a comparatively mild wobble to the plane body every few seconds. She figured a veteran like Brady would know when it was safe to let her go; judging by the grip on her collar he was still highly dubious of their lasting success.

“Fighters, -everyone brace.” Cleven’s voice warned about as cooly as if he was pointing out the drip of ice cream slipping down a cone.

“Ice man.” Andy praised from his bunk to the agreement of his companions as the fighter zipped by without so much as a shudder from Cleven’s steering.

Plenty of the passing bullets had punctured the belly and one man got a direct hit. “Candy!” Egan commanded from his place checking the unfortunate man’s pulse, “Go remind Buck that we haven’t got the oxygen to go full bomber, he’s gotta keep low and -Candy! When ya come back, time to start throwin’ on blankets. Brady, get our pumps going. This is as steady as it’ll get.”

“You got it, commander.”

More than a little sure her mission was more provoking than necessary, Maureen still obeyed and followed Brady up the length of the plane and towards his electrical station, then past it to poke her head between the pilot’s seats.

“Well, well, this is a pleasant surprise, getting car sick, kiddo?” Demarco joked, “Hey, I get it, I’d find it hell back there with no windows to look out.”

Their front window was partially shattered and the metal on Cleven’s side was gnarled.

“Those mortars obligingly made a few.” Maureen joked back.

“Anybody hurt?” Cleven asked, and to her surprise, he turned from his panel to look at her with unmasked concern.

A joke was ready made there about everyone quite literally being shot to hell but she sensed he’d not appreciate it and following some uninterpreted impulse of desiring his good opinion, she hardly wished to repay his earnestness with flippancy. “Only one.”

“How bad?”

“He looked -dead.” Maureen admitted. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the man moving past him but she’d seen Egan’s treatment of the body and it wasn’t promising.

Cleven’s jaw worked overtime at the news and something snapped in his mouth, followed by a soft curse from lips too full and soft to always be so stern. Maureen thought he may have broken a tooth with all that tension but he spit out two halves of a blooded toothpick instead. It fell to his pant leg.

“Major Cleven, sir, you’re bleeding.” It had drawn Maureen’s attention to his wet lap.

“That’s what I said.” Demarco agreed.

“It’s somebody else’s.” Cleven shook his head.

“You know if you pass out on me-“ Demarco warned, completely ignoring Cleven’s denial.

“-that’s why we’ve got co-pilots.” Cleven finished for him with a maddening smirk that made Benny Demarco throw his hands up.

“Can you check him?” he asked, “I mean -you are a nurse!”

“What? Hell no!” Major Cleven spooked for the first time all day at the suggestion, glancing quickly from his reddened trousers, behind him to Maureen Kendeigh, and back again. “I’m fine.” he declared in a firm tone that dettered her almost as much as the challenge of getting over the instruments and a steering column to pull down his pants and look. “Ensign Kendeigh, was there a purpose to your visit?” He redirected, resolutely ignoring Demarco’s unabated concerns.

“Yes sir,” she replied, meekly as she could, “Doc Egan asked me to remind you that you’re not flying a bomber. To mind the oxygen, sir. And that it’s cold.”

Cleven let out a mirthless little laugh. “We’re full of holes Ensign, of course it’s cold.”

“I know sir.”

“Yeah, ‘course you know,” his eyes lightened for a moment and Maureen almost deluded herself he was being chummy when he murmured next, “you’re smart like that. Tell the Lieutenant Commander I’ll keep her nice and low, so low the Jap navy gunners can blow the floor out without a sweat.”

“Much obliged, Major.” Maureen chirped, pleased to have been trusted with a bit of morbid humor -it was the truest test of being taken seriously a woman could hope for in the service.

“Thank you, Ensign.” And with that she was dismissed.

By the time she got to the belly again her assigned job of doling out blankets had long been accomplished by her fellows. Brady had the place lit up like an operating theater and there was the added drone of medical equipment added to Cleven’s engines. She liked to think of them as his now, Maureen realized, a tiredness seeping in now that the rush was over, now there was just six hours of the same until they touched down again in safety. His engines stayed with them, consistent, steady, dependable yet a little absent, just like the man himself.

“Major Cleven said he’ll keep her low, Doc.” Maureen reported dutifully but whatever humor Egan once held when sending her to the cockpit was now gone, a bloody mess on his hands as he and Ensign Dormer worked over a head wound.

“Good.” Egan gritted out, “I need a monitor on vitals and I need new gloves, c’mon Candy, c’mon!”

The hours passed like this, no way of telling time in the artificially lit tube of metal. Some men needed a cup of water and a kind smile, others required every bit of grit and intelligence to keep even the faintest pulse discernible above the hum. When one of them passed away in the anonymity of the top bunk, Egan didn’t bother to cover his face, the man looked to be sleeping and it suited the morale better if his fellows were not disillusioned on that score.

It was impossible not to think for a split second on the unfairness of it all -live to be finally evacuated and only die before getting safe. To think how someone else less tore up might’ve been given that bunk and survived the trip.

“Can’t dwell on it.” Ida Brady, their headmistress back in Manila, had said -and she had been right. But seeing her brother Lt. Brady cross himself now in recognition of a soul passed did something to Maureen’s own spirit, a grieving sort of fury possessed her which matched Egan’s own as they worked on the next unsalvageable man until he became a likely contender for seeing his wife and kids again.

She had been up for nineteen hours, flying for ten of those, nursing for four. She was bone tired and yet there was always someone to be tended and the thought of leaving one of these poor men without even the slightest of their needs met felt impossible. Maureen didn’t even think to pause or lag in her expertise, neither did the nurses around her and up there at the front somewhere, Cleven’s eyes were sharp and focused as ever, she knew it, and knowing it brought a calm over her that made her sympathize with Egan’s own superstitious preference for the man.

Brady came through with coffee, an abnormal duty he picked up as a result of trusting no one else with the process or the electrical requirements to make it. “Figured our pilots could use it.” he explained before passing out a passel of paper cups to the girls filled with the peppy stuff, belying his practical excuse, before taking two to the cockpit.

He came back out with a funny look on his face- “Benny says he needs a pan.”

“What the hell for?” Egan balked.

“Or a condom.” Brady dutifully amended the petition.

“I repeat -what the hell for?”

“They’ve drank a lotta coffee sir.”

“Any of you fellas got condoms?” Egan asked his patients with a laugh and got a series of predictable replies. “Gale Cleven sure as hell don’t.”

There were light hearted moments like that, many of them in fact, but six hours of flying with wounds as bad as the ones they were tending was no joke, there were bits of laughter and there were times of quiet and there were restless sleepers whose terrors not even morphine could dim.

“Forty minutes out.” Major Cleven had gone quiet over the coms for so long it was like hearing from God again when he came on, gentle and steady.

Those they couldn’t get comfortable were at the height of their groaning as the cold and the endless buzz got to them. Helplessly the nurses offered pillows and water and irrigated the burns with saline and checked needle positioning. Maureen had taken to charting, something too often neglected in high stress environments but something that proved terribly crucial as soon as they landed and handed over their charges to a new set of professionals. On the left side of the plane she held one man’s wrist after another and noted their pulse. On the right side she did the same, one man’s left hand after another, wedding band or sans wedding band, in her notes it was only ever:

“94, 57, 88, 91, 63, 82”

The lights had been dimmed, hopes were some rest could be gotten by those in any shape to manage sleep. It made for a drowsy atmosphere, only the flashlight in her teeth illuminating the veins under her fingers and her co-workers faces, Egan’s face was a shiny mess of freckles in the torch light despite the chill, exhaustion seeping out of him but not a hint shown in his workmanship. It made the dull chorus of groans in the dark all the more ominous and Brady remarked to Smith on one pass that maybe they should have brought a record player.

“Twenty minutes out.” Maureen and every other soul on board was living for those little updates from Cleven.

Men told to hang in there and not die before they could be gotten to surgery suddenly had a goal in mind and the suspense was growing brutal. Stashed and stowed, secured and checked, landing preparations were already done and it was last minute tending before taking seats. Maureen found herself nearly piddling by one young private, trying to soothe him with a washcloth as sepsis fever wracked him when over the intercom came the oddest lulling hum, like a far off jazz intro.

It was too soft initially to be recognized but the surety picked up, something about the tone unmistakably belonging to their pilot, his hums about as characteristic of him as his laconic speech.

“Is that whadda friend we have in Jesus?” Demarco’s voice overtopped the gentle melody.

John Egan was wheezing in a chuckle beside her as Maureen shook her own head in disbelief.

“No,” Gale murmured, humming paused only briefly, “it’s ‘Leaning on the everlasting arms’ -you fish eater.”

“You gotta be jokin’.” Benny was wheezing too but Cleven was back to his gentle humming, words actually forming this time and filling the tired plane with a timbre that could put Bing Crosby out of a job.

“What have I to dread, what have I to fear

Leaning on the everlasting arms?

I have blessed peace with my Lord so near

Leaning on the everlasting arms”

It worked, the sickening drop in elevation was -if not noticed- bravely pushed aside for a hymn sing, Brady leading from the back and Cleven from the front. And for a brief moment, men from Kansas to Florida, Oregan to Rhode Island, strapped in a flying coffin of flickering souls, were seated back in the pews of their childhood, trusting something larger than themselves. Even if that something was Gale Cleven’s steady hands or the justness of a cause worth dying for or God Almighty, it was something big and above the pain of right now.

“Leaning, leaning

Safe and secure from all alarms

Leaning, leaning

Leaning on the everlasting arms”

The Navy station at Gaum had a runway, in fact there were five Cleven could have picked at whim, and there was no feeling so beautifully civilized and sure as the smooth roll of plane tires on asphalt after what they’d just left. “Flaps at quarter!” and they were slowing, the deflated back wheel only causing some slight disturbance, and then they were stopped.

That bizarre stillness settled again as the engines were cut. Egan gave Maureen a smile so soft and telling that her heart about seized in realization -they’d managed it. “Well that’s us.” he repeated for the second time that day, voice gone raspy with cigarettes and fatigue. “Welcome to American soil, boys.”

There were so many lights outside the cargo door, searing white flashes in the nighttime, jeeps and ambulances and all manner of medical personnel at the ready, it was overwhelming in the exact opposite way the beach at Iwo had been. Maureen hopped down onto the tarmac with Ensign Mann, ready and prepared to stay with her charges until the transition could be made. Clipboard in hand and kit on her back, she’d go in with her select five until they’d been admitted and charted meticulously in the various wards.

“How’s it feel to make history, Miss?!” -some of those lights, Maureen realized with a dull throb behind her eyes, were flashbulbs. Journalists were thick as thieves, snapping and hollering, others respectfully keeping a distance, “You're the first woman to step foot in a combat zone-“ Maureen kept her hand on her stretcher even as she watched Cleven limping over to a jeep and piling in after Demarco. Her mouth set in a sour line of suspicion regarding his claims of being unscathed. He’d be in interrogation and she in the wards for the next hour, she’d have to find out later.

A couple of hours later John Egan was sat with Captain Crosby in the administration office, nothing but a small alcove at the front of the ward, his legs spread wide in his chair and good scotch whisky being slurped from a cleverly injected orange while reviewing the charts. Croz was a whizz at this, meticulous and careful to a fault and John adored him for it because men who gave a damn were scarce after this many years of grueling loss and, also, because it allowed himself to wind down sooner than he was technically free to do so.

“Two men lost, that’s -that’s still good odds.” Crosby couldn’t manage an upbeat tone, he felt those two lives as deeply as Egan did, but facts were facts and over all, this experimental mission had proven beyond successful. Now to tell that to the families of the two men now being carted to the morgue instead of surgery and salt baths.

“Yeah, my girls were Trojans out there.” Bucky sucked his teeth, the squint in his eyes beginning to relax with a boozy sort of calmness. “Speakin’ of Trojans! —Candy!”

Maureen approached the little alcove at a tired gait, not above reprimanding Egan for his loud voice with all those occupied beds just feet away. “It’s late, Commander.” she reminded with hinting softness that only made him crane his head back and grin sloppily at her.

“It is, it is.” he agreed, reaching up to pat her arm and she squinted at the smell of whiskey, Crosby’s sudden and transparent busyness with the charts confirmed her suspicions. “You should get some shut eye, Candy! Back at it tomorrow.”

“So should you.” she hinted kindly.

“Mm,” he hummed in negative, “apparently my ‘specialty’ is needed elsewhere before then.”

“And so the booze?” she struck back and Crosby’s pen briefly dragged along his tidy line in shock at her daring.

“Steady hands, Candy darlin.” Egan responded, lifting two sticky palms up and showing, indeed, not a tremor. “I’ve got a surgery in less than an hour -working with Brady’s old sister, of all people, the one who snuck out of Manila after?- anyways, she’s 90 pounds of spit and vinegar. Starved for two years, but she takes three weeks off and a round of anti-parasitics and she’s all ‘let me back at ‘em.’ Hell of a dame. Anyway, surgery with her. I need this.”

“Well,” Maureen Kendeigh knew when to let go of a fight with a man who’d as yet never failed her or anyone else, despite his habits, “I can confirm it does nothing for your eyes bags.”

“Kiss ‘em better?”

“Not in my purview, sir.” she couldn’t help but smile, “Perhaps lieutenant Brady will be obliging?”

“She scares me.” he objected.

“And I don’t?”

“Only in the ways I like, Candy Darlin’.” he insited.

“Ah Major!” Crosby’s strained greeting drew their attention away from this over rehearsed banter and Egan straightened up fast upon sight of his friend.

“Buck!”

“John.” Gale Cleven was in the same uniform he’d been in for hours, flight jacket undone and scarf hanging loose. He must have come straight from interrogation and standing in front of the administrator's desk he was turning his cover over and over in his hands. Maureen was certain that were she to devote two hours a day to brushing her hair she could never bernish it to the golden brilliance that twelve hours of flight-sweat gave his. On a more concerning note, his was pale as death except for those lips. “I came to check in on everybody. Load of journalists out there.” He thumbed back behind him at the public area, “Mostly curious about you, Ensign.”

“Historical.” Egan affirmed and sent Maureen a sly look as she sighed over the fuss being made of her mission.

“I’m one of twenty.” she reminded.

“I hope you were nice about her.” Egan goaded his buddy and to her confusion, Gale flinched as if that were a remarkably successful mode of attack.

“O-of course.” he frowned severely and Maureen had a desperate urge to thumb those lines away. “I told them the truth.” he defended, mildly heated.

“Which is?” Egan was enjoying this and neither Maureen nor Harry Crosby could seem to puzzle out why.

“They did remarkably.” Cleven didn’t budge.

“Better than you thought.” Egan prodded.

“Yeah. Admittedly, far better than I thought. Jeeze, John.”

“But were you nice about her?” Egan insisted.

“What?”

“You said they were particular about Candy.” Egan said, “So what did you say?”

Maureen grew concerned that with such a level of fluster in the Major’s face not a stitch of blood seemed able to raise a blush.

“How ‘bout you read it in the paper.” Gale replied, coolly mean before clearing his throat and straightening up, back in possession of himself. “I came to see how many -how’d we do?”

“Twenty eight.” Egan confirmed.

“Outta thirty?” Cleven asked for confirmation.

“Yes sir.” Crosby answered him.

“Alright.” The Major accepted that, hat still whirling in his hands, a strange contrast to his perfectly contained posture. It drew Maureen’s eye to his hips and that deep red stain running down his pant leg.

“How’s your hip Major?” she asked, seeking to break the silence before Egan did so with some new and regrettable subject.

That did bring a flush and a sheen of sweat broke out on a face Maureen knew would be feverishly hot were she to touch it. He looked peeky, truth be told. “It’s fine, ma’am.”

“Hold up,” Egan stood from his chair and leaned over the desk to glare blearily at Gale’s trousers. “You're hit.”

“It’s a scratch.”

“Scratches don’t keep bleedin’ like that.“

“Well, mine do.”

“Hey, I don’t go tellin’ you how to fly your planes-“

“-you do though.”

“-so you don’t go tellin’ me what’s a scratch and what’s a wound. It’s still drippin’, that makes it a wound.”

Cleven moved his boot to the side impatiently and only succeeded in proving his friend’s point as a line of fresh blood smeared the white tile. “I was gonna just -“

“-What?”

“-Clean it in the shower.” Cleven sighed, defeated but with an edge that suggested he might yet do it .

“Oh, just gonna rinse mortar fragments outta of your thigh, yeah?”

“It’s not that bad. Dunno if it really got hit.” He protested, “Might be scratched.”

“Or you might have a piece of your instrument panel snuggled up to an artery.” John affirmed sarcastically. “We’re goin’ up again tomorrow. I need you fit, I need you good.”

“I am.”

“You’re gonna get checked.” Egan commanded and Gale looked back at the double doors leading to freedom and a pack of journalists and sighed. “You’re on the ground now, flyboy, I call the shots.”

“Ok.” Cleven mumbled, “If you’re so goddamn eager to pants me, do it.”

“I am, I am but I’ve got even better things to do.” Egan rounded the desk and flung an arm around Gale in parting, bringing him in close despite Cleven’s stiff necked antipathy that hid only the deepest seated endearment, “Like putting a left lung back where it should be and trying to get Lt. Brady to smile at me.” Egan expounded, letting go and beginning to actually leave, much to Cleven's sudden concern, “Which is, naturally, on the left -the left lung, that’s where it goes.” Egan went on.

“Wait, aren’t you gonna-?” Cleven called after him.

“Pantsing is more of Ensign Kendeigh’s purview.” John replied cheerfully. “Don’t look so appalled, I'm sure she’s seen smaller.”

“John!” Major Cleven and Maureen both inflected his name like twin, scandalized parrots.

“You deserve each other.” John laughed, “Ensign, do your duty.”

“This is the kinda behavior that has you gettin’ write ups for bein’ a terror to your nurses!” Gale growled after him in remonstrance but it did nothing to slow Egan’s tactical withdrawal.

“Bulshit, everybody on this ward loves me!” John dared to claim even as he was berated on his way out by more than a few wounded marines for being a little too jovial at two in the morning.

Cleven didn’t wait for the doors to fully close on Egan or for Maureen to collect her professional demeanor and clipboard before he was leaning over Captain Crosby at his desk, large hands splayed on the fresh paperwork, assuming the pose of a supplicant before a lawyer. “Harry, Captain, do me a favor this once and take a look fo-“

“-Major Cleven sir,” Harry Crosby interjected levelly and with the utmost respect, “I’m an administrator.”

Maureen composed herself, the sight of this stoic man losing a grip on himself due to the prospect of lost modesty was surprising, it was also motivating to find her own professionalism and put him at ease. “Major, if you’d follow me?” she nodded her head towards the ward and started clopping down the dim aisle toward one of the last empty beds. He didn’t need to lay down for it but she needed her instrument tray, an isolated light and, if his shyness was so severe, drawing the sectioned curtains would hardly be amiss.

When she arrived and turned round to instruct him, he was obediently there to obey. Something about that dogged respect for authority he possessed and his compliance with her own profession filled her with an odd protectiveness and she motioned him into the space gently, tugging the curtain closed behind him. He was taller than she realized, made more apparent as he took the initiative and tugged off the bulky weight of his flight jacket, methodically laying it out in a half fold on the bed, nothing but a lean line of him left in olive green.

Lanky, her mother would call him, a long drink of water. He looked all of twenty four, suddenly, soft and in need of a meal. “Your leg, yes?” she reaffirmed, jotting it down in the chart. She had found that men found it easier to talk of injuries when she wasn’t making eye contact.

“Yes.” His voice was low as the grave and hushed too, “And -I think maybe my hip.”

Maureen’s eyes flicked to the place in question, recalling how she had suspected his lap in general on the plane. “Right.” she made the customary jot down of the detail and then an arguably unnecessary note beside it, the longer to give him a chance to cool himself. “Your pants Major, if you would.” she filled in the date and the time, cursory information so as not to be idle while he undid his belt, the clank of the flat uniform clasp deafening in the space where he seemed to hold his breath.

She was used to discerning the moment when it was safe to look up. Often there was a brief period after the sound of pants hitting the floor where one might have the misfortune of catching a man adjusting himself to a preferred side. She was prepared to give him that moment in peace but his voice called her to attention.

“Is this?-“ he didn’t finish his sentence and she looked up to see his vague gesture as he stood in briefs and boots, jacket hung open, too.

“Yes I think we can manage with those on.” she smiled reassuringly, discerning his query. His skivvies were blood stained on the right and clinging to him but the wounds appeared to be above and below their coverage, “I’ve always got scissors if need be.”

“Scissors.” He repeated with a nod, teeth savagely dug into his lip.

“Jacket off, this could get messy.” She ordered and something about her decisiveness seemed to soothe him like she knew it would, he shrugged it off gracefully and laid it beside the sheepskin, and yanked at his tie to relive his bobbing throat. “Please, sit Major.”

He sat down on the bed, a little stiffly, and she reached above her to turn on the large overhead lamp, shining it down on them both and in the harsh glow of it she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen something so beautiful as Gale Cleven’s blushing face fixed upturned towards her own.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood, looks like.” she attempted to make conversation and got a mere nod instead, once she stepped nearer, his eyes devoutly focused themselves somewhere to the right of them, on the floor.

She rinsed the area first, wiping away the crusted blood until his smooth, lightly haired skin came into view, little jagged tears visible in it with small fragments embedded. It wasn’t bad at all, but deep enough to keep it bleeding.

The touch of cool water made him jolt in surprise. What it didn’t do was make him shrink. She saw his hands curl, white knuckled around the mattress pad beside him as she gently dug out the metal, and she had a suspicion it wasn’t from the pain.

As unabashedly as her profession had taught her, Maureen tugged up his boxer leg until she was satisfied she’d uncovered the last little shard and did what was necessary, reaching atop the wet fabric and moving his heavy member up and away. He about bucked off the table at that mere touch of positioning and Maureen backed away out of pure animal instinct to avoid getting reflexively kneed.

“I'm sorry!“ he rushed out, his chest suddenly tight like an elephant were sat on it and his blood thudded in his ears, “Ensign, I apologize, I don’t know why-“

“It’s fine.” she insisted, stunned and pitying at the realization she probably was the first woman to touch him this way. To touch him at all. “I’m sorry this requires it.” she admitted.

“Please don’t -“ he took a large breath and began again, actually managing to meet her eyes out of sheer willpower, “-I’m the one who’s sorry. You’re doing your job, i don’t know why I get- it’s unprofessional of me, I'm sorry.” he repeated firmly and straightened his spine as if he could discipline a most human reaction away.

“It’s not at all uncommon.” She whispered, feeling compelled to be unprofessional herself if only to make him stop berating himself, “We nurses deal with this all the time, quite normal after combat, particularly.” Maureen paused for a moment and weighed the joke on the tip of her tongue as she dabbed iodine on a cotton ball and prepared to go back into the dreaded zone of his thigh crease, “It’s to be expected, the manual says; your blood is quite literally UP.”

Stood there in suspense between his legs with the iodine swab waiting mid air, Maureen waited until she saw a flicker of amusement twinkle his sad expression and a snicker escape that sober mouth. “Tell me about it.” he rasped, exasperated at his own body. “Every damn time.”

“That’s what I’m doing,” she teased, bringing the swab down and ignoring the sizable jolt his whole body and appendage gave at this dab to his thigh or the way his belly caved in with his deep intake of breath, “I’m telling you it’s normal.”

“Damn, you are sweet.” He declared suddenly with gut wrenching emphaticism that finally broke Mauren’s own precarious composure. “Not just to me,” he hastened to add in response to her melting expression so close to him, “to everybody out there. You were incredible today.” He paused and Maureen swallowed hard and tried with great difficulty to find the capability to thank him for the compliment. Before she could, he added with youthful honesty, “But you are -sweet to me.”

“Right back at you. Major.” she insisted, daring to stay that close and look back into those eyes she thought would be her last sight on earth for a second there on the beach earlier. His shuddering breath suggested he was recalling it, too.

“It’s nice to have friends in the crucible with ya.” he explained and Maureen felt her heart glow.

“Your poor hands.” she whispered, dropping her swab to gather his shaky hands in hers, the large palms engulfed her own even as she tried to cradle them. Never a hint of this anxiety while flying them, yet here he was shivering with it afterwards. “Probably blood loss.” she gave him an out, some men weren’t ready for talk of flight exhaustion or strained nerves.

“Then why’s it wasting all I’ve got to spare on…that?” He actually managed to joke back and Maureen actually allowed herself to laugh -god help her, she laughed at a man’s joke about an ill timed erection.

“John would say something about hope springing eternal, right about now.” she wheezed even as he groaned, his hands still placidly jittering in her grip, “I enjoyed your singing, by the way.”

“Mm, yeah, well,” he cleared his throat, “you didn’t see the hole in the wing or the busted flaps all the way home. That landing didn’t promise to be as pretty as it was.”

“But it was pretty.”

“Yeah. Not too bad.”

“A gorgeous landing.” she insisted and his eyes started to water under the harsh light. Impulsively, and in an act of unprofessionalism she would have never recognized before today, Maureen Kendeigh drew his hands close to her chest and pressed a kiss to his lined forehead. The way he sagged against her in a shuddering lunge suggested her impulse was a good one. “Doc Egan insists whiskey is good for this.” she whispered into hair that smelled so strongly of his musk and the wool of his cap she about buckled from it.

“Mm, but is it g—good for him?” he responded rhetorically, a gust of moist breath against the open throat of her flight jacket, his usual irony still remained with only a hiccup of nerves interrupting his speech. Maureen wasn’t sure anymore, what saved a life, well, it had saved a life, so why demonize it? She was here to force things to keep living in environments so hostile wildflowers gave up. Some men needed their booze and some men needed to be held in the hospital ward at two in the morning until their shakes calmed. As if he could read her mind, she felt Gale turn his head to the side a little for breath, face still pressed to her chest as he uttered quietly, “This is working. For me.”

“Good.” Nose buried in his hair she took a few measured breaths herself, feeling that odd calm still radiating off him, even as his body was shot to hell and giving off the overtaxed jitters. “You bring people calm, you know that, Major? It’s why Egan picked you for this, deep down, you make a plane load of dying men hang in there. That’s a gift. But when you’ve got a cup you keep pouring out of, it’s bound to go empty. Gotta refill yourself, sometimes, yes?”

“I thought this was blood loss.” Gale replied softly and it took Maureen a beat to recognize the sad mischief in his blue eyes.

“Alright. I’ll speak for myself.”She conceded with a huff.

“You must be exhausted.” he noted, suddenly as sober as they come.

“A little tired.” she admitted, questioning the way she instinctively tightened her hold on the back of his neck as he stiffened to pull away. Entirely unprofessional, she wasn’t a medicine spoon or a needle, he had every right to pull away.

“So what would fill your cup back up?” he asked in that low voice that sent a million varied undertones crashing through her, whether he intended it or not.

Too tired to be much more than plainly honest, or as honest as a woman should be with a half undressed patient cradled to her chest, Maureen admitted the half of it, which in many ways was the whole, “This is working for me.”she repeated his own words to him and watched them take effect.

Like a sudden reanimation had occurred, Gale Cleven untangled their hands with emphatic surety and then, in an act of kindness Maureen never expected, brought them to her shoulders and tugged her down for a solid embrace. “A hug and a nap then.” He prescribed, his solid shoulder beneath her cheek and his legs parted for her to step between. Only the bandages kept him from bleeding further on her.

“Not a nap,” she smiled, an inexplicable warmth and calmness flooding through her in his hold, his back was broad and lean under her hands, “we should go to sleep.”

“No such thing as going to sleep in the military, Ensign.” Gale murmured, “Sleep -that’s what happens when your mama tucks you in and you’ve got a whole night to waste. Naps. That’s what we take.”

“Alright, a nap, and a hug.”

“Alright.”

“You know,” Maureen dared with a little smile as some part of her slotted back in place and gave her the boldness to be a little too much, “there’s this thing people came up with ages ago where you hug and take naps at the same time.”

Pink cheeked but with a jaw clench that had defeated warzones, Gale Cleven pulled his head away and gave her a heavy look of admonishment, “Marriage.” he stated unamused.

Well, she had meant sex, and she wanted it, always had after danger -but Cleven had a point too.

“Uh, yes, that’s the most common-“

“-If I were to marry you, Maureen Kendeigh,” his voice took on a teasing lilt that was somehow more devastating than all his commanding earnestness, “there’d be no nap taking.”

“Oh.” A single utterance was about all she could articulate in the face of that smirk and gentle refusal. Both flattering and painful all at once. “Well, that’s not for us then.”

“No.” he pondered, full lips twitching downwards in disappointment, “At least, sounds like a decidedly post-war endeavor. No naps.” he clarified.

“Oh -yes.” she caught on, well used to the code of superstition all around her that didn’t allow men to spell out any sort of lasting, long term hope. “A postwar endeavor.” she agreed, never having heard marriage so smartly categorized.

“Uhuh,” his hands trailed up from her ribs to squeeze the sore muscles of her deltoid, “for now -naps. Back up tomorrow.”

“Alright.” she agreed, stepping a small distance back and looking him over, this time his presence didn’t shrink, in fact if anything he expended in the small room and it made her chest ache, “You're alright?” she made sure one last time.

He held his palms flat up and Maureen could attest they were indeed steady, terribly large, too, and his watch on his wrist was careening towards three o’clock. “Looks like it.” he rasped. “But you’re in charge here. Can I go, Ensign?”

Regretfully Maureen nodded, “You’re dismissed, Major.”

When he stood up from the bed he was by necessity in her space, looking down at her rather fearlessly as he yanked up the waist of his trousers and gathered the belt closed around his lean waist. Maureen felt her cheeks burn but couldn’t look away, if she were to glance away from those eyes she might see something even more tempting before he’d secured the fabric.

“Got any more duties after this?” he asked, breaking the moment as he bent to arrange his trouser hems over his boots.

“No.”

“Then I’ll walk you to your billet.”

“For naps.” she clarified cheekily.

“For naps.” he agreed with mirthful vehemence, finger pointed at her with almost paternal caution to not push his patience.

“Do you want your shell fragments?” she rattled them in their dish, the pieces she'd pried from the shallow muscle of his hip.

Cleven paused with his hand on the dividing curtain, shaking his head in amusement, “Give ‘em to Egan,” he suggested with a wicked little smirk, “knowing him he’ll make a talisman out of them or something equally useful.”

Hope y’all enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s life blood, lemme head your thots or screams! Xoxo

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#mota fanfiction #mine #archive #friends in the crucible #Gale Cleven x OC #Buck Cleven x OC #Buck Cleven #austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #masters of the air #Bucky Egan #doc Egan #Maureen Kendeigh #iwo jima #hbo war #john egan #callum turner #Callum Turner fanfiction

[shelbgrey]

Hey, sweetie! Could you do something for “Being Harry Potter's twin sister?”. You know... Their whole trajectory, their discovery of Sirius and Remus (who might be her godfather). She has an unusual friendship with Neville and the Weasleys (especially the twins and Fred, who she has a crush on and is fully reciprocated with). Thanks for the attention 🌷���.

Being Harry Potter's Twin sister Headcanons:

Paring: Fem!Reader x Brother!Harry Potter, Fem!Reader x Fred Weasley.

Summary: your life as the chosen one's sister.

A/n: so I might split this up with each year. Sorry this took so long and it's not edited.

🧡Master List 🧡Potter MasterList

So I feel like you and Harry would be totally different, and it might sound stereotypical, but you look like your mom with your dad's eyes.

Also you do have a scar, I looks like Harry's but it's on your wrist.

Most muggles and wizards forget your twins beacuse you look nothing alike.

With Harry I think he trusts adults a little too quick, with the treatment the Dursly's caused I think you'd have major trust issues. You only really trust Harry.

Harry is almost extremely over protective of you and sometimes thinks he's the older brother because he happens to be taller and five minutes older. “you know I'm five minutes older than you, right?”

“why does that bloody matter?”

Harry would do anything to keep you safe from Dudley and the other Dursley, I think Petunia would be harsher on you because you remind her so much of Lily and Dudley just think it's a game to terrioz you.

“keep your hands off her!” Harry shouted and pushed your cousin off you aching body.

People Don't know how relieved you were to get your Hogwarts letter.

Year one:

Like I said before you don't trust people as easy as Harry does, so when Hagrid came to rescue you two you were very reluctant and let Harry do most of the talking.

I'd say the Dursly's treatment causes you to be jumpy and very much aware of your surroundings, meaning you were hiding behind Harry when Hagrid came by.

But you learned to trust him during the trip to Digon Ally, he got Harry an owl and you a Ferrett named Seeley.

You also discovered your wand was related to The 'murder' Sirius Black's wand.

The first person you'd actually meet first is Fred and George, Hagrid had taken you to a candy shop in Digon ally and you both were after the last box of all flavor beans.

“you go ahead” he smiled when he saw you flinch back. “no, you” you respond.

Fred shook his head with a smile and handed you the colorful box. “no, you shouldn't take things from a pretty lady” that made you blush and take the box nervously.

And saved by the bell wizard, Harry called your name. “I got it go... Bye”

He didn't even get your name. Fred watched you run away with hearts in his eyes. George looked at him confused when he saw no candy in his hands.

“Georgie, I think I'm in love” he smiled like an idiot.

George, not knowing how to respond smiled.

When you got to Hogwarts you met Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy.

You had found Neville's Toad Trevor and was the one to return him. I think Neville would be star struck with you, your kindness to him and how pretty you were, he definitely had a crush on you immediately.

With Draco he just had infatuation, with Fred and Neville it was actual attraction(Neville more at the time) but with the Blonde Slytherin he saw you as someone he could get back at his parents with. The daughter of Lilly and James, Lucicus hated them and his eyes it would be a perfect opportunity to rebell a little.

You saw right threw him, you may not trust people immediately, but you do like to get to know them before you pass judgment. Draco lost your judgment as soon as he disrespected Ron and the rest of the Weasleys.

“listen you little Ferrett, leave Ron and his family alone”

I don't think the twins would take you being teased lightly, Fred didn't really care what Draco thought about him but him saying something about you or George is usually the last straw.

Anyway, the sorting hat didn't know what house to put you in. He was stuck between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. “your a lot smarter than people give you credit for...your also brave, maybe even braver than your brother”

The hat did consider your feelings, he didn't just put you in Gryffindor because you were afraid to be separated from Harry, he did because he wanted to prove how brave and strong you were.

Gryffindor was ecstatic to have both Potters, especially Fred and George. They both cheered with the rest of their house mates and gave you the empty spot next to them.

With that I think you'd have your own trio, you are very close to Hermione and Ron both, but your defently best friends with the twins.

Your also close with Neville, people might think your a body guard and would even teas him for it, but you actually love Neville company and think he's tougher than he relizes.

Some people might not realize you got on the Quidditch team beofer Harry, you became a Chaser.

During your first game the twins wouldn't leave your side, Fred was afraid you'd get hurt. I think the whole team was considering you were a first year.

Harry's broom was the only one that was supposed to get jinxed but you got in the way. You got swang around like crazy while the twins and Oliver tried to help you. It drove Harry crazy he couldn't help you, but he had his own jinxed broom to deal with too.

Ron and Hermione of course thought it was Snape, but it wasn't. He was concentrated on helping you... Even more than Harry.

You remind him of Lily... like a lot, so I think it would make him less biter towrds you. Yeah it'll hurt him to see you at first, but I think he wouldn't be harsh on you like he is Harry.

During the holiday we know Harry saw your parents in the mirror of erase, but as much as you loved your parents I don't think that's what you saw. You can't change the past, so you just wanted some kind of family. So when you looked in the mirror you saw the Weasleys.

You and the twins had been extremely close, especially Fred. During the holidays Molly sent you a sweater with your initial and Fred got you a paracord bracelet with a heart charm. He and george had matching ones(minus the heart) so at the time it was friendship bracelets.

When you went to see the mirror by your self Professor McGonagall cought you, she really liked you and thought you were a bright student. You don't get to show it much because Hermione always beats you too it.

Speaking of professors and Hogwarts staff, I think Hagrid would help you discover your love for animals and magical creatures. Which ment you were pissed when Draco ragged about Hagrid's baby dragon.

Your love for magical creatures also helps you and the golden trio get passed Fluffy the three headed dog.

You and Hagrid bonded over talking about animals and you guys grew closer because of that.

It still bewilders Ron how you saw innocents in the dog and though he was cute.

You didn't want to go back to the Dursly's, but with the events that transpired this year you were afraid to stay at Hogwarts too, but you couldn't help but love the place, as dangerous as it was it was also safe and full of wonderful people.

Year two:

So for starters I think Doby would annoy the hell out of Harry's sister and I think she would be pissed off he was at the Dursly's warring them instead of Ginny or Hermione or even Colin.

So when you got back from Hogwarts you and Harry did have to share Dudley's second bedroom, it was cramped and always hot, but it was better than living under the staircase.

So, remember when the Dursly's tried to stop Harry from going to the Burow with the Weasley's? Well Harry did get in their little blue Angler, but when he did Vernon grabed you causing Fred to jump through the window and get you.

Molly would be so happy to see you again and even kinda embarrassed Fred. “y/n darling, I'm so glad your hear... Fred hear wouldn't shut up about you all summer”

“mom!” Fred look embarrassed while George was trying to cover his laughter for his brother's sake.

The burow is big but it's also cramped at times, so you and the twins share a room, your best friends and your comfortable with each other. Your just kids right now and there's no dirty thoughts to it just three best friends having a sleep over.

Thoses night Fred found out about your nightmares, George is a heavy but one night you woke up Fred when you were tossing and whimper beacuse of them. You only remember your parents death in your dreams and currently your adventures from last year.

Fred comferted you through out the night. He didn't make you talk about it, just held you. George teased you guys when he woke up the next morning and saw you guy cuddling. You guys let it slide since he didn't know the situation.

But, During your stay I think you'd grow closer to George, your both the quieter of the twins and are usually the followers. You would tell him you hated all the attention being Harry's sister brings.

Fred would get jealous, really jealous but he loves you both too much to bring it up. George knows how much Fred cares about you and your relationship with George is strictly Platonic.

George knows Fred like the back of his hand and he told him that. “you know we're just friends, right? I'd never hurt you like that”

Speaking of friends, since it's ginny's first year you and the twins are all pretty protective, which ment you were about to kick Draco's teath out when he was hassling her at the book shop in Digon ally.

“touch her and it'll be the last thing you ever do”

You also despise Lockheart, You and the twins spend most of the year messing with him. Especially when it comes to quizes about himself.

“my favorite smell isn't the ass of a hairless dog!” Lockheart yelled after reading our answers.

You broke your arm during the Quidditch match where Draco and Harry we're going add it. The people and the teams were too busy watching your brother to realize you got knocked off your broom.

Fred cought you before you could hit the ground and he took you to madam Pomfrey with George and Hagrid's help.

That day you realized since you weren't the chosin one like Harry you weren't that inresting. But that didn't matter to your closest people. To Fred you were the greatest thing to ever enter hogwarts.

He stayed with you the entire time and helped you with assignments till you got better.

You weren't part of this year's adventure. You were too worried about taking care of Ginny and Hermione.

Years 3:

So after the whole blowing up aunt marge incident you went to the Burow(in this universe you go straight there).

You told the twins about aunt Marge and they couldn't stop laughing. You now call it "the incident" and it kinda became inside joke, Ginny getts annoyed with not knowing what it means.

“you keep saying 'the incident'! What doses that mean?”

You did find about Sirius black and that he was Harry's godfather. You would think he'd be yours too but really it was never confirmed since Lilly wanted Remus to be the godfather.

Remus told you about the once playful argument that James and Lily had about that. I think you'd grow really close to Remus.

He's the first adult you trusted immediately. You tell him everything and he becomes the first ever real father figure you've ever had.

Aurther is kinda of a father figure but you don't want to see him that way since your in love with his son.

Anyway, you find out about Remus being a werewolf just beacuse you were wondering around on a full moon, you weren't scared like a normal person should be which suprised him. You promised to never say anything.

It got annoying when Hermione kept asking werewolf questions when she started to have her suspicions.

You were relieved when you found out Sirius didn't actually kill your parents. You found out Sirius was really fun to be around. While Remus was a shoulder to cry on or sortof a body guard, Sirius was c comedic relief and learned how to make you and Harry laugh.

Year 4:

Your fourth year is when Fred and you really started to act on your feelings. When you went to the Quidditch world cup, Fred kissed you after your favorite team won.

Since death eaters showed up it was short lived and you guys didn't really speak of it till later.

You didn't try to get your name in the goblet of fire like your two best friends, nor was your name put in there.

It was bizarre... You wanted to do it just to prove you were just as brave and important as Harry. Fred helped you relize how important and loved you were during the last two summers, but since your name didn't get put in there like Harry's you felt pushed to the side lines again.

Fred was a little bit upset at your mindset. He didn't want you thinking you were useless but he also didn't want you in danger.

“why would you want to! It's dangerous, I don't know what I'd do If you got hurt!”

Then it turned into an argument. “I want to do It because I'm tired of being in his shadow I want to prove I'm just as strong! And why dose it matter if I was in the tournament or not?”

“beacuse I love you! The Wizarding world might not have chosen you but I do... And I know we're just kids but I do know that I love you”

Your heart melt and if felt like all your walls came crashing down. You knew you were important to him, but it finally clicked that you were is first choice from the beginning. No Harry, no chosin crap, he just wanted you.

You had your first real kiss in mouths. A rough but passionate kiss. He poured so mush love and emotion in it, he wanted to prove he wanted you and only you.

Then you became a couple, a few side problems kinda showed up. Hermione and Krum, then you and Neville... He wanted to asks you out so bad but then he finally had the confidence to ask you out he found you and Fred kissing.

You knew when something was bothering Neville, he became stand-offish and wouldn't really talk to you. When he confronted you all his emotions came out. He told you everything and even end his rant that he rather have you as a friend than not having you at all.

“but then I realized our friendship means more to me than anything, I'm happy for you and Fred but I don't want to lose my best friend”

“You won't...”

The Yule Ball was so much fun, you of course went with Fred and everything was perfect.

Having Cedric die was hard, you wernt close to him but having him die made you appreciate you brother again. You two became distant since you felt put on the side lines, but when you thought about Harry dying you couldn't help but cry.

“you and me against the universe” Harry said after you talked about it to him. “I'll always protect you and I'm sorry if you felt like I pushed you away”

Harry really did feel bad, but he felt even worse when he found out about you and Fred. He's been so busy he didn't even know you have a boyfriend for like three months.

He was happy for you both, he trust you'd be treated right and didn't feel like he had to put up an over protective brother facade.

Year 5:

So Remus is defently over protective and put the fear of murlin in Fred, but he knew Fred was a good guy.

You and Fred also worked hard to get Tonks and Remus together. You knew how much he loved her but he wouldn't act upon it.

Also with Voldemort back you were eager to join the order of the Phoenix, even if you weren’t old enough. And you better believe Fred would be right behind you.

“I'm in” you said.

“NO!” Remus and Sirius both said at the same time.

Okay so it's your fith year and Fred's last year, it's kinda of upsetting but it just encourages you guys to make the most of the year.

You love helping the boys sell their products and even help come up with some new ideas.

Rather the product are safe or not your usually the one to sell the product to fellow classmates, especially the females. George says to can sell a drowning man water.

The year was great... Till the pink monster showed up and started changing everything.

She got under Fred's skin like crazy and Umbridge knew it, he didn't really care what she did to him, took away one of his prank toys he doesn't care he'll just make a new one but what he didn't lightly is when you had to endore one of her detentions.

You didn't want the boys knowing or worry Fred and Harry. He accidentally found out when he grabed your soar hand the wrong way.

“I'm gonna end her!”

You had to grabe him and convince him if he did anything he'd get kicked out of school... Which he didn't care.

You knew about them dropping out and you even help plan their excape.

After they left Fred wrote to you almost every day, filling you in about the shop and telling you about the success.

You couldn't be more proud of them and even planed on working there that summer but the end of there made you forget about it.

Sirius had died protecting you, Bellatrix was about to use the same spell on you that she used on Mr. And mrs. Longbottom. Neville tried to protect you but Sirius bet him to it the only cost was his life.

During the summer you mostly stayed with the twins and worked at the shop, things got better and Fred worked hard to cheer you up.

He loves spending most of his time with you and doesn't really care if people see.

“your not supposed to get handsy with the staff” you joked.

“I won't tell if you want”

Year 6:

Not Much happened... That concerned you at least. You spent most of your year hanging out with Neville and Luna.

Harry and the other two were to busy worrying about Draco and you just didn't have the energy to care.

You quite the Quidditch team after an acadent last year so you usually helped Luna or who ever narrat the game.

You did worry about Draco though, he looked so alone and no one really cared, all Harry cared about was proving he was doing something wrong.

He grew so much respect for you when you found him crying, you didn't judge him like he expected... Just let him cry.

You filled Fred and George in about the closet stuff and how the school is going down hill.

After the school year you went home with the twins after Dumbledore's funeral, as awful as it might sound you weren't too affected by his death. You felt like Dumbledore never really cared about you or your brother.

Year 7:

So you spent most of the Summer paining and decorating for Billy's wedding, it was a good distraction.

During the battle of the seven Harry's George protected you because the death eaters would expect you to be with Fred, George got his ear blown off because he was protecting you.

After the wedding got ambushed you ended up going with the golden trio, Fred tried to go after you but Charlie stoped him I'm fear for his brother.

You spent most of the time listing to the radio with Ron, making sure George or Fred's name isn't mentioned.

During the battle of Hogwarts the twins didn't leave your side.

“you okay freddie? Y/n?” George asked.

“I'm scared” you admitted. Fred pulled you to his side and held you while George held your free hand. “I won't let anything hurt you”

When things got really heated during the battle you got separated from the two, you and George ended up meeting up in what used to be the charms room.

You started to panic when you didn't see Fred. “Wait, where's fred”

George couldn't stop you and ran in search for him, before you could even register what was happening Fred shielded you from a killing curse.

Even if your brother won the battle you lost the love of your life, you didn't really want to see anyone except George and even that hurt... Looking at his face and seeing the same eyes and freckles.

George promised if anything happens to Fred he'd make sure you'd be alright.

Super mega happy ending:

So if you chose this ending Fred didn't die, you guys got betten up but that's all.

A year later you guys got married and you worked as the care of magical creatures professor at the school, during the summer you worked with your husband and brother-in-law.

You had twins, a boy and a girl. Fred cried when he found out you'd he having twins.

George and Angelina were of course the god parents.

You are very protective of your kids, always making sure they're okay and on the anniversary of your parents death your twins sleep with you.

Your daughter is just like Fred, a total minnis in the best way possible, your son is the quieter one... Much like you and George.

Your twins joined the Quidditch team and got sorted into Gryffindor like every other Potter and Weasley.

You couldn't be more happy or proud of your family.

#Harry Potter #harry potter headcanon #Harry Potter headcanons #Sister!reader X Harry Potter #Hogwarts #Gryffindor #sirius black #Remus Lupin #Fred Weasley #George Weasley #Neville Longbottom #Slytherin #Draco malfoy #Ravenclaw #chamber of secrets #Sorcerer's stone #prisoner of azkaban

[the-multifan-writer]

More Than A Friend

TW: lesbian sex, drinking, pet names, slowish burn (?), dildo, fingering, oral (both receiving)

Paring: Hermoine x Fem!reader

This was inspired by the song more than a friend by GIRLI it's so good go listen to it

I watch as she laughs at something Ron said the way her hands rub up and down his bicep. I grumbled and took another swig of my butterbeer already feeling some of the buzz “slow down there Y/N we do have work tomorrow” Harry says I roll my eyes but smile as his concern “I'll be fine Harry” I say not breaking contact from Ron and Hermione, Harry follows my gaze “you know instead of staring daggers at Ron you could just confess your feelings for her” I laugh “oh Harry I could never do that look at them she still as a thing for him” I say and sigh looking away “she doesn't she told me she wouldn't date him if it meant she could be the most powerful wizard alive” I smile “even then i can't ruin the friendship i mean we are roommates where would I live” “Hermione would never kick you out and if she does you always have a room in my home” Harry says and walks away. I sigh and order another butterbeer and make my way towards Ron and Hermione.

“Y/N settle this debate will you debate whos hotter the girl in the red dress or the girl in the black dress” Ron says clearly tipsy, I tap my chin and fake think “black dress for sure” I say “that's right see Mione, well i'll leave you girls im going to go get laid” he says walking to the girl with the black dress. “Such and intelectual debate you guys had there” I joke Hermione laugh “yea you know ron thinks with his dick” we laugh and I take a sip oof my beer and i catch a glimpse of Hermione through the now clear glass and she blew me a kiss, I choke and cough “are you ok Y/N'' she says fully concern for me “um yea I thought I saw something thats all but im fine” I smile, did she really blow me a kiss no she couldn't have right. We spent the rest of the night drinking and dancing.

Around 2 in the morning we parted ways and Hermione and I took a cab. When we got to our apartment we went to her room to talk, “did you see how drunk Ron got it was hilarious and when he started to dance on the tables I so thought we were going to get kicked out” Hermione says laughing I smile but roll my eyes when she’s not looking. I grab a pillow and sit on the floor while she goes to the bathroom to brush her teeth as she keeps talking my mine starts to daydream, and in it me and Hermione are making out and my hands are roaming her curves and she starts to kiss my jaw and lowers to my neck nipping and sucking, next thing I hear her calling my name but it sounds far away, I slowly open my eyes and see I’m know laying on the floor making out with the pillow and Hermione is looking at me confused I laughed it off and did some push up “just staying in shape you know” she shakes her head and finishes in the bathroom, and I go to my bedroom.

The next day it was our day off so we went to a small café near our apartment. After we ate we went our separate ways with me going home. At night Hermione came back “Y/N I’m home want to watch a movie I heard of this one new movie it’s supposed to be so hot” I walk to the living room and smile “sure put it on I’ll make some popcorn” I go make the popcorn and when I go to the couch the movie as just started “what’s it about” “about to girls that realize there lesbians and love each other” I inhale deeply a blush creeping up my cheeks. Half way through the movies the girls start making out and undressing I look over to Hermione and she’s already looking at me with a smile I quickly look away return to the movie, Hermione moves closer to me and gets under my blanket “just a little cold” she says my blush gets darker but I say nothing just nodding. When the girls in the movie start to get more Into it I again look over at Hermione and she again was looking at me, and it’s as if time stopped as she leaned towards me and kisses me.

I’m in shook at first, my best friend just made the first move she kissed me “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that I don’t know what came over me” she says pulling away but I pull her back and kiss with all the passion in my body “it’s ok” I say resting my four head against her, she smiles and we get into a heated make out. Hermione started kissing down my neck and sucking and nipping there leaving behind love bites that I would wear with pride tomorrow. She went lower pushing up my shirt and I take it off, she pulls my bras down and tits bounce from there release . Hermione licks and nibbles on my nipple and I arch my back and moan from the pleasure she switches to the left one and repeats it untold my nipple pebbles, once she gets the reaction she wanted she goes lower and removes my panties “wow your so wet baby” I moan “all for you only you” I say lifting my hips to get her to touch me where I need it most. Hermione slaps my thigh causing me to whimper “don't rush I’ll touch you” she says and takes one of fingers from my pussy to my clit circling it, she lowers herself and takes my clit in her mouth sucking and licking at it. I rake my fingers through her hair and pull her closer “oh mione that feels amazing dont stop” she moans moving her tongue faster she brings one of her hands up and plunges two fingers in me curling them hitting that delicious spot.

I throw my head back arching my back from the pleasure as I close my eyes, I see stars from all the pleasure. Hermione thrust her fingers faster shaking her head spreading my wetness all over her face, she messages my g-spot and I let out a silent scream cumming all over her face and fingers she continues kitten licking my clit, extending my organs and I have to push her away from over stimulation. “Let’s go to my room” she says after I caught my breath I kiss her deeply tasting myself and pull her towards her room, when we get in I say “let me return the favor” and push her on the bed straddling her wait. I remove her shirt and see that she’s bra less I smirk taking one of her pebbled nipples in my mouth nipping and sucking it Hermione pulls my hair and I groan moving to her other nipple. Before I continue my journey I suck two love bites on each breast, I then start kissing down her body leaving kisses as I go. When I reach my destination I put her legs over my shoulders and take her clit in my mouth licking and sucking on it, I go to her opening and lick up all her juices and moan at her taste, Hermione pushes my face deeper in her pussy and I bring one of my hands up plunging two fingers and curling them and messaging her g-spot. She moans and arches her back shoving her pussy closer to my face I go back to her clit nip at it gently and suck it to sooth it I continue that rhythm thrusting my fingers faster and faster and Hermione cums all over my face with a loud moan. When I pull away I look at her in her post orgasm glow and climb over her to kiss her hitting her lower lip and our tongue fight for dominance with Hermione winning, a minute later we pull away gasping “give me a second let me get something” she says pushing me aside I lay on the bed and watch her go to her dresser and pull something out that I couldn’t see at first but when she turned around I saw it was a double ended dildo. I bite my lip and sit up “when did you get that” I ask “um about a month ago. I’ve been throwing hints at you but you missed all of them” she says laughing I blush and look away “you should have said something” “well it doesn't matter now does it we’re here now” she says getting on the bed pushing me to lay down.

Hermione rubs the dildo through tummy folds and then slowly pushes it in my pussy, I let out a small moan and then she places the other end in her and climbs me like we are about to scissor each other. Once our pussies were touching we started to grind onto each other, our clits rubbing against each other to add to exquisite pleasure, I throw my head back and moan her name “move faster please” I moan out and she does and grounds harder into me. We bring our hands and rub each other clits and we start panting “I’m so close” we say together we rub our clits faster and through our head back as cum on the dildo and I feel our liquids dripping down my folds and ass.

After a minute Hermione slowly gets off the dildo and pulls it out of me I whine and flop down on the bed. She throws the dildo at the end of the bed and lays down next to me “ I love” she says I gasp and smile “I love you to” I say and kiss her deeply and we fall asleep holding each other.

#hermione fanfiction #hermione x reader #smut #fanfic #lesbian smut #lesbians #harry potter #Hermione x reader smut #hogwarts #hogwarts smut #harry potter smut #hermione granger #Hermione smut #Hermione granger smut #18+ only #gryffindor #potterhead #Harry Potter world #ns/fw concept #queer ns/fw #wlw #wlw post #wlw concepts #wlw love #gay kiss #Spotify

[3vergr3en]

Earn it.

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Author’s Note: I have the biggest, most fattest crush on Andrew Garfield. LIKE LOOK AT HIM. Also, if there are any mistakes, I did not proofread this 💀

Summary: Harry is hosting a birthday party for his best friend, Peter. Everything runs smoothly until Y/N’s best friend back in high school shows up and start flirting with the female. Oblivious Y/N doesn’t think much of it, being used to such playful manner. But Peter can see through the man’s facade, and he doesn’t like it one bit.

Paring: Fem!Reader x TASM!Peter Parker

Genre: Smut with little plot.

Word Count: 2.9K

Additional Info: Public sex, unprotected sex (PLEASE WRAP IT), nipple play, orgasm control, Peter has an obvious breeding kink, cream pie, choking, teasing, profanity, name-calling, humiliation, dirty talk, jealousy, established marriage.

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“Thank you for coming! Please grab some champagne and the appetizers are over towards the left.” You inform with a smile, using your hands to help direct the couple towards the section. You continued on saying the same phrase for the majority, apart from times where you had thrown in a couple different sentences such as, ‘You guys look amazing tonight”, ‘Oh my, I haven’t seen you in so long!’, and ‘Oh thank you, Peter helped me pick out this dress.’

But one familiar fellow caught your attention, “Oh my god, Mark is that you?” You question as your jaw hung low in shock, your eyes widening twice in size. “I’m surprised you still remember me.” The black-haired man laughs as he walks up to you, extending his arms out as an indication for a hug, “How could I not? We spent our entire high school years together!” You exclaim, embracing the latter into your arms. You received a nice, firm hug from the male in return. “God, I missed you.” Mark chuckles, using one of his hands to caress the bare skin on your back through your long, velvet black backless dress. “I missed you as well. I tried contacting you after graduation, but—“ You pulled away.

“I got a new phone, and all of my contacts didn’t save unfortunately.” Mark explains as he held your hands in his, his thumbs rubbing in circular motions on the back of your hands. “You look gorgeous, by the way. You’ve always have been, since high school to now.” Mark compliments, leaning down to kiss your hand. “Oh stop it, Mark. You’re too much. What happened to the Mark that would tease me 24/7?” You laugh, using one of your hands to playfully slap at the man’s shoulder.

You fail to notice a presence coming up behind you, growing concerned when there was an abrupt change in Marks demeanor. “Mark? What’s wrong?” You furrowed your eyebrows as your frowned before looking over your shoulder only to see Peter glaring at Mark with a tightly-clenched jaw. “Oh hon’! Have you seen what Harry has done for your birthday? The ballroom is absolutely stunning! Also, I want you to meet Mark, he was my best friend throughout high school,” You smiled, wrapping your arms around your husband’s arm, oblivious to the tension between the two men. “And Mark, meet my husband, Peter.” You inform, feeling one of Peter’s arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

“Husband?” Mark questions, raising one of his eyebrows. “Yeah. Dated for 4 years, been married for 5.” Peter stated, holding the hand out that the wedding band around your ring finger. “Oh, well, congratulations. I’m really happy for you, Y/N. But I’m just saying, I would’ve gotten a better ring for a beautiful woman like you.” Mark examines the ring, then to look at Peter with a smug look.

“Pfft, I forgot how much of a jokester you are, Mark.” You grin. “Hey, love? Can you go grab me some water?“ Peter asks with a nonchalant tone, not breaking eye contact with the man that stood in front of him. “Hm? Oh yeah, of course.” You nod, excusing yourself before walking off.

“The fuck is your problem?” Peter mutters, stepping closer towards Mark. “Nothing. It’s just sad to hear that my girl’s married off to some other dude. She looks ravishing tonight. The way the dress perfectly hugs her waist and extenuate her curves. How is she? Is she tight? Does her tits feel soft?” Mark whispers, the corner of his lips curling up into a smirk. Peter balled up his fists, clenching tightly to the point where his knuckles were turning white. As he opened up his mouth to say something, a pair of heels clicking against the smooth, tiled floor pulled him out of his frenzy.

“Unfortunately, they didn’t have water at the moment. They only had champagne, if that’s okay, love?” You explained, each hand holding two glasses. “I got one for you, Peter, and one for Mark.” You smiled. “That won’t be necessary, hon’.” Peter chuckles, grabbing both glasses. Before you could get a word in to ask why, your hands flew to cover your mouth as you watched Peter pour the beverages straight onto Marks head. Peter then handed you the empty glasses, pecking your cheek before turning around to face Mark once more, only to land a hard blow right across the males face. “Oh my god, Peter!” You gawked, immediately placing the glasses on a nearby table prior to rushing over to pull the brunette away from the half insensible Mark. “What is wrong with you?” You question with wide eyes, you look around to see people judgmentally staring at you three.

“You didn’t hear the vile things he said about you.” Peter mutters, shaking the hand that is now starting to bruise up. “Security!” You call out, “Please escort this gentleman out.” As two able-bodied men in black suits walked over, you pointed your hand at Mark who could barely stand. “Thank you.” You say to the two men, smiling.

You then felt a hand gripping at your wrist, dragging you through the crowd of people and up the carpet staircase. “Peter, where are you taking me?” You whispered loud enough for only Peter to hear. “Shut up.” You heard Peter respond back in a churlishly manner. You were bewildered. You don’t even know what Mark could’ve said to have Peter all riled up. You didn’t know where Peter was taking you in all honestly, there was a lot of turns and all you knew was that your feet were starting to hurt. It’s not easy to walk relatively fast in 5 inch heels.

“Peter, can you please slow down? My feet are starting to hurt—“ You gasped as you were suddenly grabbed at your shoulders, turned around to have your back pushed up against a large glass window. “Peter-!” You slightly yelp, looking around frantically. You saw you two were in a short hallway, the lights were fairly dimmed. You look over your shoulder to look through the glass windows and see you were approximately 15 stories high. “Peter, what are you doing?” You whisper, looking up at the male with furrowed eyebrows.

“Are you really that fucking stupid, huh?” Peter spats out. He grabs both of your wrists with one of his hands, pinning it above your head. The other hand now clenched around your jaw. “I don’t understand—“ You whimper when you felt Peter’s thigh force your legs apart. “He was flirting with you. Maybe you’re just too fucking dumb to even notice.” Peter says through gritted teeth. “Touching you.. putting his lips on you,” He scoffs, his hand that held your jaw now making its way down to your neck. “He had the fucking nerve to ask such vulgar questions about my lovely wife,” Peter laughs, tightening his grip around your throat, “But he wont ever know. He’ll live out the rest of his life wondering how tight you feel.. how soft these wonderful tits are.. and how much of a slut you sound like when you’re getting fucked.” Peter whispers into your ear, his thigh inching closer to your aching cunt.

You felt your body becoming hotter. But you also felt yourself becoming wetter with each passing second. “I’m sorry, Peter. Please..” You gasp out, bucking your hips up, trying to grind against Peter’s thigh for some sort of friction. “Look at my pathetic little whore, trying to rub herself on me. Tell me, love, what do you want?” Peter asks, loosening his grip around your throat. “Please fuck me..” You whine, shortly gasping afterwards when Peter finally pressed his thigh up against your clothed pussy. “More. Beg for it.” Peter orders. You began moving your hips forward and backwards, grinding against the soft material of the suit. Small whimpers slipping out of your mouth as you finally gained the friction you’ve been wanting. But it wasn’t enough, you needed more. You itched for more.

“Need more..” You breathed out, shaking your head when Peter had pulled his thigh away, “I want you inside of me.” You moaned when you felt Peter’s hand cupping your sex. “Do you deserve to be fucked, love?” Peter asks as he grabbed a handful of the lace material before ripping it off of you. You gasped at the sudden chill waving at your soaked cunt. He balled it up in his fists before stuffing it into his pant pocket. “Did you fucking hear me?” Peter asks, using the hand that bonded your wrists together, to now wrap around your throat once again, pinning you against the clear, cold glass surface. You nod frantically, mouth a gape, “Yes! Yes! I deserved to be fucked, oh please.. please fuck me.” You pleaded desperately when Peter’s fingers glided a long stripe in between your folds, stopping when the pad of his fingers landed perfectly on top of the clit. “Gotta quiet down, hon’.“ Peter huffs out, rubbing the small bundle of nerves in a slow, agonizing pace. “Please! Peter, faster!” You cried out, unable to take any more teasing. “What the fuck did I just say?” Peter muttered, momentarily pinching the airways on your throat. His fingers now starting to pick up the pace, rubbing in circular motions against the small knob. You moan, your hips bucking up into Peter’s hand. “Oh shit, yes!” You whimper, biting down on your bottom lip in attempt to try to lower your voice.

You whine in protest when Peter pulls his hands away from your body. He then pinched at the straps of your dress, pulling it down your arms, allowing the upper part of the dress to slip off your chest. Your breasts now full out on display, your nipples hard. “Another thing Mark will never know..” Peter breathes out as he turns you around. The front of your body now exposed to the outside world. His hands snaking around your torso till it reached your tits. He cupped them into his hands, kneading the soft, warm flesh. You hold onto Peter’s wrists, tilting your head backwards to rest onto the male’s broad shoulder. He slightly grazed his index fingers against the tip of your erected nipples, chuckling when you twitched against him. “I love how sensitive they are,” Peter whispers into your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. He placed his finger pads onto your nipples, beginning to rub them circular motions. You moan out in delight, squeezing your thighs together. “P-peter,” You whimpered. “Yes, baby. Say my name.” He hums, pinching the buds in between his thumb and index fingers. Twisting it and tugging it very slightly. “Peter!” You moaned out, rubbing your ass against Peter lower half, giggling when you felt his bulge poking through his pants.

“I need to see your pretty face when I fuck my cock into you.” Peter groaned, “Would you like that, baby? Hm? You want my thick cock ramming inside of this pathetic little pussy of yours?” He smirks as he undoes his belt, pulling the pants down enough for him to pull out his erected cock, finding it entertaining watching you fold under him. “Yes! Oh god, yes please! Fuck me, Peter..” You trailed off at the end. Suddenly a wave of boldness came over you, “Unless if I just call Mark right now and have him fuck me instead—“

You cut yourself off with a cry of pure bliss when you felt Peter force himself into you with the help of your wetness as a lubricant. Your hands flew onto the glass, palms spread flat out on the surface as Peter gripped at your hips, pulling out till the tip was barely left in, only to slam himself into you with full force. “Fuck! Peter!” You moaned, your breasts pushed up against the glass window, your chest twitching due to the friction of your nipples rubbing against the surface. “Who can fuck you like this, hm? Who can fuck this pussy?” Peter grunts into your ear, repeatedly slamming his hips against your ass. “You, Peter! Oh fuck, it’s you!” You cry out, already feeling your legs buckling.

You couldn’t think of anything besides the feeling of Peter’s cock ramming into you. Filling you up perfectly. You were already on edge due to the teasing from earlier. You felt like a bucket being filled up, on the brim of tipping over. “Peter, slow down. I’m getting close.” You beg, using one of your hands to reach back and push against Peter’s pelvis. But rather than slowing down, Peter ignored the pleas from his wife and instead thrusted faster, his balls slapping against your cunt. “Oh god! P-please! I’m gonna cum!” You moaned out loud, shaking your head frantically.

Peter abruptly pulls out, catching you in his arms when you’re legs collapsed on themselves. “N-no..” You whined out pathetically when you felt your orgasm was ripped away from you. Peter picks you up in his arms, carrying you to a nearby table that was placed against the wall along the hallway. He sets you down on the marble table, placing himself in between your legs. “Look at me, beautiful. Who makes you this stupid when fucking you?” Peter asks, his tone sweet ironically compared to what he’s asking. “You, Peter.” You smile, wrapping your arms around the male’s neck. “Good girl.” He praises, pecking your mascara stained cheek.

He lines himself up to your gaping hole, pushing in once more, groaning. “Fuck, my baby’s pussy is so warm and tight. Look at it pulling my cock in.” He laughs. Once he fully bottomed out, his hip began snapping against yours. Squelching sounds fills the hallway along with the obscene noises that left your mouth. “I’m going to cum soon, baby.” Peter moaned out. You tightly wrapped your legs around Peter’s hips, locking him in a tight space. “I’m gonna cum in this little pussy of yours. Gon’ fill you up to the brim, fuck!‘M gonna fuck my babies into you.” Peter groans, laughing when he felt you clench tightly around him. “Oh yeah? You like the thought of me fucking my cum so deep inside of you? Getting you pregnant, hm? Your belly round and full of my kids?” He says, “Oh, fuck, yes! Please cum inside of me!” You plead, breasts bouncing with every harsh thrust Peter makes. “I’m.. gonna get you pregnant.” Peter breathes out, his thrusts beginning to get sloppy.

“I-I’m cumming!” You cried out, “Lets come together, love.” Peter moans, his thrusts quickening just for a few moments until it came to a full stop. “Fuck, Y/N!” He says as he came, his cock pulsating inside of you. Thick spurts of white, warm cum shot inside of you. Coating your insides with his seed.

“Peter!” You came straight after. Your eyes rolling back as one last moan that sounded like it came straight from a porno emitted from you. Your legs fully tightening around Peter hips, making sure to squeeze out every single drop of cum from the male. You felt yourself tipping over inside, a wave of pleasure coursing throughout your body, leaving you twitching.

Peter slowly pulls out once he felt himself go limp inside of you. He leaned over to embrace you into his arms, holding you close to him. “Happy birthday, Peter.” You giggle, pecking his cheek. “Thank you, love. Let’s get you fixed up before we go back downstairs, okay?” He suggests, moving a strand of hair away from your face. “But I’m pretty sure they’ve heard you. ‘Oh, fuck, yes! Please cum inside of me!’” Peter playfully mocks. You gasp and punched him in the arm, “Oh shut up!” You whine, hiding your face in Peter’s shoulder. “I hate you.” You mumble, “No you don’t. You love me.” Peter laughs, helping you wear your dress correctly.

#Spotify #peter parker blurb #tasm peter parker imagine #peter parker imagine #tasm!peter imagine #tasm peter smut #tasm smut #tasm andrew garfield #tasm!peter x you #tasm peter x reader #andrew!peter parker #andrew!peter x you #andrew!peter fanfiction #andrew!peter smut #peter parker smut #tasm peter x you #tasm fic #tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman #the amazing spider man #spiderman #spider-man #spider man smut #spider man imagine #tasm #tasm fanfiction #mcu fic #mcu imagine #smut #andrew spiderman

[1800jjbarnes]

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 | 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

【Synopsis】 : Tonight was supposed to be filled with laughter and memories, but two nobodies had to turn the night upside-down.

『Word count』 : 1.69k

Paring: Wolf!Alpha!Bucky x Bunny!Reader

[Warnings] : Harrasment, drunk people, mean girls, slurs, insensitive words, angry boyfriend Bucky. Neck kisses, Bucky being classy yet horny.

✦ The ALPHA AND BUNNY Universe ✦ -> [Click Here]

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Normally, you wouldn't want to dress up head to toe and 'Dollify' yourself as you say. But when Bucky came into the kitchen at lunch, snaking his hands around your waist while kissing your bond wound. How could you say no to him almost begging for you to come with him to a nightclub so he can celebrate his youngest brother, Peter, finally getting a mate. So here you stand, in front of your tall, body-length mirror, looking at your attire, which doesn't seem nearly as appealing as a nice pair of pj's, or baggy t-shirt and jeans. But you promised, and even though Bucky reassured you over a million times, that if you were really uncomfortable, He would take you home without question.

Your hands drape around your waist, up your chest, fingertips grazing the exposed skin of your neck. The outfit you picked out matched Bucky's. Same emerald green detailing on top of black attire, and don't forget the gold accessories. If someone were to see you two, they would most likely say you look like some royal Slytherin couple straight out of Harry Potter. Your mind wonders again, seeing the necklace Bucky bought you sitting patiently on the counter next to the mirror, just waiting for you to finish off your outfit with it. He worked hard to find something nice that you'd love, and you indeed do love the jewellery piece.

"Do you need help, Doll?" Bucky's deep voice would make anyone jump if heard from behind them. But you, just as still as you were before he entered the room, looked up into the mirror seeing the tall wolf standing strong over you. His rough hands grip your hips as his head dips into your neck, taking in your perfume, your scent. His lips graze your jugular, hot tongue darting out to lick along the outline of your main vein. You tilted your head, closing your eyes. You took a moment to ravish in his affection, your hand coming up to his head, raking your fingers through his soft hair. You hummed as his body stands flushed against yours, his wandering hand retching for your necklace that is tangled in your fingers. Slipping it out of your grasp, he replaces his lips with the cold chain, making you shiver.

"We're going to be late, baby." His low gravelled voice whispers in your ear, his breath tickling your lobe. You smile at him as you make eye contact with him through the mirror. "You look so perfect." He spoke up, making you blush. He always complimented you whenever he could. He knew you were insecure with your body image, so he took it upon himself to help you see yourself as he sees you. Perfect in every way.

—

The club roared, music making it hard to hear yourself think, let alone hear the person next to you. The dance floor was packed with drunken humans, making you feel uneasy. You haven't been around humans in years. You tend to avoid them because every time you do come in contact, most of them comment on you being a hybrid. It's not that hybrids weren't common, but your kind lived away from where humans gather, and so do the wolves. Living among one another wasn't something to be done often. But as the new age grew, more and more creatures mingled with one another, including humans. But that doesn't mean you didn't want to hide your fluffy ears, keeping them flopped against your hair and your tail tucked away even though it was uncomfortable.

You had already thrown the congratulations around, and now drinks were being shared everywhere. Your drink was finished faster than you'd like to admit it, feeling like if you have some liquid luck in your system, you would feel better, but let's face it, nothing was working. Buxk6 moved away from you for only a moment, laughing and cheering with his brothers. You didn't want to interrupt. They seemed so happy, and you wouldn't want to ruin their fun with your little insecure thoughts. You shook your head, letting out a sigh, before turning towards the bar. 'Another drink won't hurt', you thought, taking a seat on one of the stalls on the dark black marbled bar.

"What will it be, Toots?" The tall deep-voiced bartender turned to you with a smile, he was cleaning a cup with a dish towel that seemed far too dirty to be able to clean the dish, but guessing people were too drunk to know nor care.

"Just a Malibu n' Coke, please." You smile back at him as he goes off to prepare your drink. But while you wait, you notice out the corner of your eye two girls watching you, giggling and whispering to one another. They were clearly talking about you, but you tried to pay them no mind. That was until they suddenly started to walk over to where you sat. 'Great,' you thought, taking a big swig of your drink as you try your best to avoid eye contact.

"Well, lookie what we have here." The dark-haired—brunette—with a tight-fitting blue dress leans on the bar. Her breast almost falling out the top of the piece of fabric she calls clothing. The other woman, a deep rich red-haired, snickered along the words of her friend. She is clearly dressing to impress her "friend." Just about basic copycat.

"You should introduce us to those handsome-looking men you've been hanging out with. Especially the one in the green tie." Her word made your throat growl. You may not be a wolf, but you can certainly act like one. Your eyes travelled over to the table where the boys were seated. Bucky had his hand wrapped around Steve's neck, laughing as hard as he could possibly do. He didn't even notice where you went nor that you have two strangers annoying you.

"They are all unavailable, sorry." You bit back at her, taking another sip of your drink.

"unavailable, now don't go telling me green tie is your boyfriend?" She laughed, covering her mouth to hide her most likely horridly annoying grin. You were waiting for it. For one of them to mention something about you, but maybe they are bad at insults, so maybe in hopes. This whole situation will die quicker than it started.

"I'm sorry, but l-look at you." Her friend added. "You're one of those half-breeds."

There is it. The word you thought you'd be able to get away from for one night. Half-breed. A saying for hybrids and wolves, and any other creature for that matter that wasn't fully human. You felt anger? Or was it just plain tiredness? Tired of being shamed. Tired of being cast as different. Chugging the rest of your drink, you turned fully to the redhead, tilting your head while looking at her up and down.

"Says the one that looks like a whore straight out of a trashy strip club" The brunette tried her hardest not to laugh but a chuckle caught your attention. "I wouldn't be laughing if I was you, she's dressed to match you remember." now both girls were shocked and filled with anger.

"Disgusting half-breed. Just go over there to those humans. Unlike you. And tell them to come to us instead. They are probably just keeping you around cause they want to tick you off their bucket list."

Okay, that one stung a little.

You lost your words. You were torn between crying and punching both of them. Or simply laughing. They really thought Bucky and his pack brothers were human? One glance, and you could tell there is something more to them than just being basic humans. So you laughed. Laughed at them, shaking your head with a grin plastered on your face.

"What's so funny? Hey, rabbit! I'm talking to you."All she wanted was attention and someone to pick on. What she didn't expect was you to be laughing. Why were you laughing? She grabbed her drink and chucked it all over you, making you stop laughing. But as she threw the liquid, her fingers let go of the glass, making the cup fall and shatter on the floor. Shards bounced out, cutting your exposed legs, drawing very small amounts of blood, not enough that it hurt but enough to notice the smell.

And the smell retched Bucky's nose almost immediately. He ran over, quicker than intended, his wolf taking over ever so slightly at the thought of you being injured. He was to you in seconds. His hands coming to your hips, and his eyes wander your figure, trying to find the blood. He took in the fact you were wet, the smell of cheap alcohol and the glass. Shattered on the floor. His eyes glanced to the girl that dropped it while she was brushing herself on with a smile.

"If I knew dropping a stupid glass would get Mr green tie to come over, I would have done it ages ag—." Her words freeze when she finally makes eye contact with Bucky. His eye glowed gold, mixing with his blue ones. Her heart sped up, and not in the good way.

"Y-You're a w-w—Pissed off." He finished her sentence for her, snapping with a growl. He backed up quickly, heading towards the exit with her copycat close behind. Bucky was about to follow them so he could give them a piece of his mind, but you grip his dress shirt tightly, bringing his attention back to you.

"Can we go home...Please." Your words were small. You were drained from the interaction. And no matter how funny it was to mess with the two girls, their cheap words still gutted you like a rusted knife, and all you wanted was to go home and snuggled with Bucky on the couch. His arms caged you to his chest, holding you tight. He kissed your forehead, apologizing for the shitty night as he walked you to the car.

Maybe you should have stayed home.

#marvel #1-800-jjbarnes #jjbarnes #bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #alpha bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barns angst #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns smut #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns x you #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan bucky barnes

[littlexscarletxwitch]

hi is it okay if i make a request for florence? i was wondering if you could do one where it’s flo’s first time seeing reader and trying to get to know them. maybe reader works on set of a new movie she’s in and caught flos eyes and she does everything to try and get their attention to talk to them, however it ends is up to you, thank you :)

── ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗵𝗶𝗻𝘁

paring: florence pugh x gn!reader

tag(s): fluff, oblivious kinda trope (?), r being clueless

warning(s): grammatical errors, unedited, not proofread

word count: 1.4k

note: I actually have no idea what a makeup artist does on a set, so just go with it. While writing this a had a female reader in mind, but I'm pretty sure it works as a gn reader as well. I'm so sorry this took so long, anon. I really hope you like it and that is, somehow, what you wanted. I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Hope you enjoy! <3

requests are open! + check my rules here <3

As soon as you walked into the makeup trailer, Florence’s eyes immediately found your frame.

And all she could do was stare at you, admiring your beauty, watching over every movement of yours. She just couldn't take her eyes off of you, it was as if now you were the only person in the world. She could tell you were new to this environment, her working place. She could tell you were nervous, looking down at your feet, as if you were afraid to face her or do the wrong thing. 

“Hello, there,” she said, trying to get your attention. 

“Oh, hi. Um, have you been here for a long time?” you finally looked up to her.

Truth was she had been waiting for about half an hour, but once she took a look at you and saw your puppy eyes, she couldn’t just say that to you, afraid you would break down in front of her. 

“No, I just got here. I’m Florence,” she gave you her hand to shake. 

Accepting her hand, you said, “Y/n, the new makeup artist, but I think you already figured that out.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/n,” Florence liked the sound of your name falling out of her lips. 

“You too.” 

“Hey, by any chance are you the same Y/n that does Hailee’s makeup?”

“Yep, that’s me,” you gave her a shy smile, the fact that she knew you made your cheeks go red. Which Florence noticed and chuckled at your reaction. 

“Oh, great. Then I trust I’m in good hands.”

“I really hope so, or else I’m gonna get fired,” you joked, earning a genuine laugh from her. “Um, should we get started?” you asked once her laugh died down. 

“Oh, yes, of course.”

Florence sat on one of the chairs in front of the mirror and let you do her job. This was supposed to be a makeup test, she wasn’t sure if that was what it was actually called but it was the name she gave it. After all, they would test different shades of foundations, shadows, blushes and find the right one for her skin tone that also had to match her character's personality. 

Ten minutes in, she couldn’t take the silence anymore. Sure there was background music playing, a playlist you put on before getting started. She could hear the faint voice of Harry Styles. But she didn’t want to hear his voice, she wanted to hear yours. All of you intrigued her in ways no one ever had. She could tell you were shy, otherwise you would have started talking right away, so she had to take matters into her own hands. 

“So, um, why did you become a makeup artist?” That was the most stupid question she could ever ask you, but her brain was working properly at the moment, although she didn’t understand why. 

“Well, um, it was just a hobby at first. A way to get my mind off of things. But then because of a friend, somehow, I got to do Gracie Abram’s makeup for a red carpet and then I just kinda took off. Ever since then I worked with lots of different people,” you now softly applied eyeshadow to her other eye. “And then after I got to do Haillee’s makeup, she recommended me for this job, and here I am,” you noticed Florence’s eyes were looking right at yours. 

A lump formed in your throat once you realised how close you were to her. You always had to get this close to the other person while doing your job, but something about being this close to Florence felt different, almost intimate, even though the two of you had just met.

“Sorry, I said too much.”

“No, no, don’t apologise. So this is your first time working on a set, right?”

“Yes, it is,” you squint your eyes trying to find a matching foundation to her skin tone. 

“How are you liking it?” she gave you a grin, which, again, caused heat to rise to your cheeks. 

“So far so good,” you shrugged, mirroring her smile. 

[...]

It’d been a week since Florence first talked to you. The two of you became quite a pair, always being around each other. Whether it was you watching Florence do some scenes, hanging out in her trailer, grabbing lunch together, or just messing around in between scenes. 

She soon realised you were constantly on her mind. So much so, that some nights, when she face timed her little sister, she would bring you into their conversation and mumbled nonstop about you. That was when her little sister made her realise how much she actually liked you, and not just in a friendly way. It was way more than that. It was something deeper, something that made her chest warm and her stomach burn just by the thought of you.

But Florence wasn't sure if you saw her the same way. So she decided to leave subtle hints for you to pick up and figure out. She started bringing you coffee every morning, always making sure it was your coffee order; sometimes she would take you out for lunch, sometimes even dinner, trying to, subtly, imply it was actually a date but always was so afraid to admit to you. She started to text you on a daily basis, especially when she wasn’t needed on set, but she knew you were probably there. So she would text you, sometimes even call you, to know how you were doing. 

But nothing was working. You were clueless about her feelings for you. And the shooting was soon to be over, she wouldn't have that as an excuse to be constantly around you. Sure, the two of you developed a friendship, you two would probably keep in touch and stay friends, but that wasn’t what Florence wanted. It wasn't even close to what she actually wanted. 

So she had no other choice but to confess her feelings to you. If things went wrong then she probably wouldn’t have to see your stupid cute face everyday, given that the shooting will be over in two days. But if things went right, well she could only imagine what that would be like. 

So she patiently waited for the last day of shooting, still sending hints your way but it was pointless since you couldn’t pick up on them. And by the time everyones started heading to their homes, she quickly headed to your trailer. She knew you would still be there since you always were one of the last ones to leave the set. 

“Hey, you,” she said walking in your trailer.

“Hey, I thought you had already left,” you were packing your belongings. 

“Without saying goodbye, no way,” you chucked at her words. “I, um,” she cleared her throat. “I have something to tell you actually.”

She noticed her hands were starting to get a bit sweaty, her heart beating fast and felt the temperature in the room increase. 

“I’m all ears,” you were now facing her, making sure she knew she had all your attention. 

“I, um, you know what. I’m just going to spit it out: I really like you, Y/n. I’ve liked you after our first week working together. And I’ve been trying to tell you, but you didn’t seem to pick up on it. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, I just had to shoot my shot. So that was it, I guess. I shot it,” she took your silence as a negative so she slowly turned around and made her way back to the door.

“Flo!” you stopped her from walking away. “Hey, where are you going? Don’t I get a say in this?” you made your way towards her, placing your hands on her shoulders. You could feel she tensed under your touch, but a second later just gave in and relaxed. 

“I just thought–” but your lips got her off her words. 

She was taken aback for a second, not sure if that was actually happening or it was just something she imagined. But once she placed her hands on your cheeks, she knew it was all real. You were there, your lips against hers. Biting, licking, sucking. A smile formed on her lips once you two pulled apart and you rested your forehead against hers. The two of you were breathing heavily. 

“So, everytime we went out, it was actually a date?” realisation hitting you.

“Yeah,” she pecked your lips. “You just couldn't take a hint, could you?”

“Well, better late than never,” you smiled at her, and soon kissed her lips once again.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x you #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh x gn reader #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh fluff #littlexscarletxwitch's fic #requests by lovely anons ‘๑’ #your fav florence pugh blog <3

[tgrailwar-zero]

I mean, you did call us the devil, wouldn't the company of a demon be pretty fitting?

You could practically hear him roll his eyes.

ARCHIVIST: "Mhm."

Any other attempts at banter were met with a brick wall. It seemed like he had said his piece, and didn't exactly care enough to hold a conversation.

It was at this point that you realized that AVENGER had also walked off.

...Guess that meant it was time to get going.

As you were shooed off by the ARCHIVIST (or left before he had a chance to, at least), it was just you and the cards.

The card really was self-explanatory. It had the name of the section blinking on it, and served as a quiet GPS to lead you there. It was very useful. And, when you found the second you needed, you noticed that the shelves moved and shifted and all you had to do was put in either the specific name of a book, or the topic, and it would get you started.

Reading was… well, uneventful if you didn't enjoy research, but great if you did.

There wasn't really much here that differed from what SIGURD had told you regarding the Moon Cell specifically, which wasn't a ton to begin with.

The Moon Cell was a natural phenomenon, Magi flocked to it, Holy Grail War, Titan attack.

It goes into some detail concerning a Great Lunar Ritual, with experience prompting that it was supposedly what the locals referred to the Grail War as. A free-for-all, with 999 preliminary participants that eventually got pared down to 128 Masters and Servants, fighting for the 'Holy Grail' within the Moon. Golden kings, massive mechanized warriors, so on so forth.

And then there was more of what SIGURD told you.

The Titan attacked, and the Holy Grail War went from a Free-for-All to an actual War, at least with the Servants and Masters both alive and willing to participate. An coalition called 'The Lunar Sea Council', headed by the heir to the West European Plutocracy, brought together Wizards and warriors alike.

In your research, you reach a bit of a hitch.

You find a message tucked in the data- opening it up. A knight, blond with shining armor, spoke quietly.

SERVANT: "I may get in some trouble for this…Caster, sorry, 'The Priestess' wants us to move on. Karna and I are the only ones that remember still. The others are new, fresh, told that this world is the only one that matters until she awakens. To sit on our laurels for now, and await her to gather up all of the power she can before engaging the Titan."

SERVANT: "I do not blame her. Our current situation is terrifying. They snuffed out Excalibur before it could even begin to shine, and my sword pales in comparison. To be told to sit and wait is irritating, but I can't argue. We're backed against a wall. Wanting a fresh start- a facade of normalcy... "

SERVANT: "Still… Leo… one day, I will return to the home front, and destroy that Titan for you. I won't move on- I won't forget. Not yet. Not until I can proudly face you when we meet again."

GAWAIN: "I, Gawain, promise you that."

The message ends. Quietly. You stew in that quiet for a moment, with the knowledge that the Servant in that message- as brave and caring as he was- never made it back to the Moon. The Interlopers and their Servants killed him. Culled him before his dream could be realized.

With that- you continue reading.

The rest of the reading is pretty straightforward. Again, mostly rehashing what SIGURD had relayed to you with some extra details.

A Heavenly Divinity, having reduced herself to the status of a Heroic Spirit, made a stand against the Titan. Using her immense power, she established a barrier between the remnants of humanity and the great titan, building a new world where life flourished- though the moon remained barren, kept ever vigil by the Lair Servants that protect the new barrier, the new world known as the 'Solar Cell' from harm.

If anything, the most interesting piece of information was the utter lack of information regarding the Moon. No True Names, no names of participating Wizards, no details about the Ritual or what exactly the 'Holy Grail' the magi were hunting for was. The titan attacked, but outside of it being great and terrible and that it had been deterred by the Heavenly Divinity, there really wasn't much else... which, considering how dense this Archive was, there should be something... right?

Regardless, that was all you could find for now.

You put down the books you had, before realizing you weren't alone. There was someone… very close to your immediate vicinity.

In other words, that was a lot of chest.

...You looked up at the head attached to the aforementioned chest.

PLAYBOY (NO SENSE OF PERSONAL SPACE): "Ga… wain…"

Now- running into a handsome, sensitive man in the library? If this was a different genre, this might count as a 'meet-cute'. Perhaps a 'romance flag'. For now, it was just a 'meet', and the 'cute' was really up to interpretation considering the opinions of your twisted amalgamated mind(s), and the color of the flag currently raised here was to be determined.

#thgw story #main post #thgw: chapter 5

[clockworkouroboros]

Now that the 60th anniversary specials are all out, I guess I'm gonna share my thoughts about them all, because it's the internet or whatever. Overall, I do think there's a lot of good in these specials. The fan service is absolutely there, but it's been done in a different way than some of the past special episodes, and it really acknowledges I think the many different kinds of Doctor Who fans, from the people who just watch the revived series (or even just bits and pieces of the revived series) to fans of Classic Who and even those of us crazy enough to get into the extended universe. I mean, featuring Beep the Meep and the Toymaker as your two Big Villains is both ridiculous and speaks to the nature of Doctor Who fans that we were all so excited for them. So. A lot of really nice things about these specials all around.

In The Star Beast, we got a really nice blend of nostalgia for the original Tennant era with new, interesting characters and a healthy amount of fan service towards Beep the Meep's half a dozen fans. Between those three things and RTD's obvious love letter to and heartfelt (if perhaps a little clunky) support of queer (and especially trans) people, it's easy to look past the episode's flaws; namely, that it's very light on the plot, and the handwavey bullshit that retcons Donna losing her memories completely undercuts the emotional heavy hitting of Donna losing her memories. You mean it was *always* that easy? Fuck right off.

Wild Blue Yonder really brought in, for me, more than a hint of Wilderness Years Who. The bottle episode slightly claustrophobic feel, the terrifying unexplainable Not-Things, the goddamn salt—I thought this story was the strongest in the set. I think RTD, like many writers, has a tendency to try and make things bigger and bigger and bigger, when really, his best stories tend to be like this. Consider Midnight as another example—brilliant, terrifying, and also very similar to some of the more experimental stories of the wilderness years. If I had a complaint about this story, it's that I would want it to play into more of the sense of sensory deprivation that stories like Midnight and Scherzo did. But honestly, that's a nitpick. It infuriates me a little bit—RTD likes to go in for some spectacle, as seen in The Star Beast and especially in The Giggle (and also the s3 and s4 finales, and also DT's regeneration story, and also and also and also)—but some of his best work is done when he doesn't allow himself the spectacle and instead really pares everything down to the barest of bare bones.

And, honestly? The Giggle was a bit of a letdown. There are so many ways you could bring the Toymaker into Who again, and he ended up sort of being an afterthought. Neil Patrick Harris was obviously having a grand old time in the role, which is great—so why not give him a little more to chew on? I thought there was a lot that was great—Donna and the Doctor in the Toymaker's domain, as an example. I think, building off of Wild Blue Yonder, coming back again and again to just how much the Doctor has been through and how that has affected them, was also a really nice thing to include, and something that I wish had been brought up more during Thirteen's run, because she really went through it.

But that also brings me to my biggest issue with The Giggle, and that is the way David Tennant's Doctor (Fourteen? TenThree? TenTeen?) has been written in a way that still is overshadowing Ncuti Gatwa's Doctor. This was honestly one of my biggest concerns as soon as Tennant's return was announced, and one of RTD's past issues in Who has been his chronic overshadowing of characters of color in favor of a white fan favorite. (Martha and Mickey both get this treatment.) The regeneration scene pissed me off in a way that I didn't think Doctor Who could piss me off—generally speaking, I'm pretty level-headed about most Doctor Who things because this show is ridiculous enough that you sort of have to just roll with it. I already adore Ncuti's Doctor (from his extremely limited amount of screentime), but I can't help but feel that he's been cheated out of a proper introduction because he had to share his limited screentime with David Tennant, the most popular Doctor to ever exist in the show's 60-year history. Likewise, because of this ridiculous Journey's End 2: This Time It's Stupider nonsense, I'm genuinely concerned RTD will randomly bring DT back for some fun multi-Doctor fanwanks, and sort of write all over the first Doctor of color's era with David Tennant. Not that that will happen (I certainly hope not, anyway), but the fact that he's leaving it open as an option already has me worried.

So. Yeah. Maybe I'm being harsher on RTD than I would otherwise be, because the nostalgia for having him back is so ridiculously high that it's driving me a little insane, or maybe these are genuine issues. I'm not upset that he's back, but these specials—and especially The Giggle—left me extremely wary that we're going to get the same exact issues that he brought to Who in his first run. Overall it'll be fine, and again, I did get a lot of enjoyment out of these specials! There's a lot about RTD's writing that is objectively both good and consistent. That doesn't mean I'm not holding my breath going forward.

#dw spoilers #the star beast #wild blue yonder #the giggle #russel t davies #doctor who #fourteenth doctor #fifteenth doctor #sorry for the wall of text #and a reminder to everyone that you do NOT have to agree with anything that i say even a little! #i genuinely am not trying to shit on rtd i'm just concerned #so. yeah.

[kuromiisanton]

Songs that give the same vibe as the members. (from my perspective)

Genre. fluff.

warnings. None. 

paring. Ateez members x songs 

a/n: all songs are linked via YouTube:)

!AGELESS BLOGS/MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

Hongjoong: Rollercoaster by Jonas brothers

 The upbeatness of the song just gives me the same vibe… also the message of the song being reminiscing on a band's successes, really resonates with Hongjoong. As the leader I know in the future he will tell his kids and grandkids about how successful and loved Ateez was as a group. Hongjoong will always be there for the band members even during rough times, so I think this song really relates to him.

Seonghwa: August by Taylor swift

 The song is about a new start in life, and I can’t help but think he would often think about the fresh start he was given when he became an Idol. You can really tell how much he loves being able to sing for the world. The instrumentals are so soft but powerful which is exactly how I see Seonghwa.

Yunho: Sweet Creature by Harry styles

 I chose this song for Yunho, not because of the story behind it but because of how the song is presented to me. The song is beautifully sad, and Yunho is so beautiful that it makes me sad lmaoo. I would also really like to see Yunho do a song in this style or even a cover for this song. The lyrics are very powerful to the heart and Yunho makes me feel the same way…

Yeosang: Where the shadow ends by BANNERS, Young bombs

 This song gives the message of hope. Yeosng is truly a great representation of this song to me because of how hard he has worked to further his career and to make fans happy(as well as everyone in the group). Yeosang is truly the light in the darkness. The instrumentals are soft as well and give that angelic feeling to listeners(me), and I get the same vibe from Yeosang.

San: Diamonds by Rihanna 

 San was truly born to be onstage, his stage presence is unlike anyone I have seen in the fourth generation. He was truly meant to shine and give that inspiration to future generations. His smile shines so bright as well and I think people need to recognize him as one of the best Idols in the game. Again…this man was made to be a performer and artist. He is the moment.

Mingi: Try by P!nk

 This man is so charismatic and determined to do amazing things in his career (he does.) This song is about taking risks and not giving up, and he truly does. He always manages to get past the hurdles in his life that come in his path. I am really proud of how well Mingi prioritizes himself and his mental/physical health and never gives up on his dream. So this song 100% gives me the same vibe as Mingi.

Wooyoung: Good Time by Owl city, Carly Rae Jepsen

 Wooyoung always makes the best out of difficult decisions. He is one of the most positive members I have seen, he is so smiley and his laugh is so funny as well. He makes everyone around him happy as well, truly a happy virus. I have a friend that bias’ him and literally anytime she sees him she gets so happy because of the vibe and energy he radiates. 

Jongho: Yellow by Coldplay

 I chose this song for Jongho because it is a song about love and devotion, but in the  way I think his love and devotion is for the members and fans. He is the youngest of the group, but I see him as someone members can really rely on and talk to when they need to get something off their chest. Yellow can be seen as cowardly or afraid but in Jonghos case I see it as Happiness and Reliable. Jongho is the yellow of his group… for his members and fans.

©kuromiisanton, all rights reserved.

#𐙚florence posts #ateez fluff #hongjoong fluff #seonghwa fluff #yunho fluff #yeosang fluff #mingi fluff #wooyoung fluff #Jongho fluff #san fluff #ateez scenarios

[sunflowerabyss]

Charms of Fate: Chapter 8

Paring: Remus Lupin x Fem!Professor!Reader

Series Masterlist

Plot: Amidst the echoes of a bygone era, you return to Hogwarts years after parting ways with Hogwarts. What begins as a journey fueled by nostalgia transforms into an unexpected reunion with Remus Lupin, now a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. As the past intertwines with the present, the two former classmates navigate the complexities of grief, the resurgence of friendship, and the unwritten chapters of their shared history in this tale of rediscovery and the magic that binds them together.

Warnings: none? idk. fluff

________________________________________________

In the quiet loneliness of his thoughts, Remus found himself consumed by your presence. Since that day in his cluttered office, the memory of your touch lingered like a gentle flame, a constant warmth that danced on the edges of his consciousness. The soft imprint of your lips on his skin became an indelible mark, a sweet reminder that traced his every waking moment.

The thought of you became a steady companion, accompanying him from the moment he opened his eyes until the time he surrendered to sleep. Even in the realm of dreams, you painted the canvas of his subconscious, integrating yourself into every corner of his mind.

As the days unfolded, Remus recognized a profound truth within himself—he was undeniably, irrevocably in love with you. It wasn't just a fleeting infatuation but a deep, soul-stirring affection that colored the world around him. Your laughter echoed in his mind; your smile etched into the very core of his being.

Yet, amidst the beauty of this newfound emotion, a quiet fear lingered. Remus knew the dangers that lurked within him, the potential for harm that his condition held. He longed for you, yearned to fully embrace what blossomed between you both, but the specter of his own perceived monstrosity held him back.

In the stillness of the night, as the moon cast its silvery glow over his thoughts, Remus couldn't escape the magnetic pull you held over him. Love had taken root, entwining its tendrils around his heart, leaving him to navigate the delicate dance between desire and restraint.

________________________________________

The air around the Hogwarts grounds held a crisp, autumnal chill as Harry and Professor Lupin strolled along the bridge, the gentle rustle of leaves accompanying their conversation. As Harry kicked a pebble along the path, he decided to broach a topic that had been lingering in his mind.

"Professor," Harry began tentatively, "can I ask you about my parents?"

Remus' features softened by the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, nodded and offered a small smile. "Of course, Harry."

Harry took a deep breath before plunging into the inquiry. "What were my parents like? I mean, really like?"

Remus sighed, the weight of memories settling upon him. "Your parents were remarkable people, Harry. James was a bit of a troublemaker, always up for a prank or mischief. But beneath that exterior, he had a heart of gold. He was fiercely loyal and cared deeply for those he loved."

Harry's curiosity prompted him to ask, "What about my mum? Did you know her well?"

"Lily," Remus spoke her name with fondness. "She was an extraordinary witch, talented beyond measure. More than her magical prowess, though, Lily was an uncommonly kind woman. She was there for me, offering her support without judgment."

Harry's gaze dropped to the pebble he kicked along the path. "Did Professor (L/N) know my parents too?"

Remus nodded, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "Yes, she did. Lily was her best friend all throughout Hogwarts."

Remus's eyes softened with nostalgia as he continued to share tales of your and Lily's enduring friendship. They stopped, both leaning against the railing, looking out over the forest.

"Lily and Professor (L/N) were inseparable," Remus reminisced, a distant smile on his face. "They complemented each other in the most magical way. Lily's vivacity and warmth balanced (Y/N)'s quiet strength."

He paused, momentarily lost in the memories. "I remember seeing them together, often sitting by the fireplace, engrossed in discussions about magic, life, and everything in between. Lily's fiery spirit and (Y/N)'s calm wisdom created a dynamic that was a joy to witness. I'm sure if you asked, Professor (L/N) would love to tell you more about their friendship." Harry hummed, nodding his head slightly.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves as if nature itself was eavesdropping on the tales of camaraderie. Remus's voice held a blend of gratitude and longing. "Your mother and father, Harry, were a steadfast friend to everyone. In times of trouble, they would face challenges with you, hand in hand. Their friendship was the kind that left an indelible mark on everyone lucky enough to witness it."

Harry, intrigued by the connections that existed between his parents' generation, couldn't help but wonder about the dynamics between his Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms teacher.

"Professor," Harry asked tentatively, "were you and Professor (L/N) friends?"

Remus's expression softened as he delved into the memories. "Yes, Harry, we were friends. We met during our time at Hogwarts. We belonged to the same house—Gryffindor."

"How did you know each other? For how long?" Harry asked.

He continued, "We were just acquaintances at first, at least until your mother finally let your father take her out. It wasn't until our last year at Hogwarts that I considered her a really good and close friend."

Harry's curiosity persisted, and he asked, "What happened after Hogwarts? Did you stay in touch?"

Remus's expression shifted, carrying a touch of melancholy. "After your parents… after that fateful night, things changed. The entire wizarding world was struggling with the aftermath, and each of us coped in our own way. Unfortunately, she and I lost touch over the years. Life took us in different directions."

He added, "I regret the distance that grew between us. I feel having her close would have made it easier."

Harry, the curious boy he was, pressed on. "Professor," he asked cautiously, "did you… love her?"

Remus sighed, his gaze distant as he weighed his words carefully. "Love is a difficult emotion, Harry. She was, and is, a remarkable person. She was my confidante, a dear friend." Someone I trust.

Harry, sensing there was more to the story, pressed on. "I mean, did you ever love her romantically, Professor?"

Yes. I have loved her since the day I met her. Nothing has changed.

Remus hesitated at Harry's more personal inquiries, glancing nervously as if questioning the appropriateness of the conversation. Harry, undeterred, waited for an answer.

With a sigh, Remus began, "Harry, should you really be asking such questions?" Harry, ever the inquisitive teenager, leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. "Well, I suppose I could say it this way--if I were to love her, it would span a thousand lifetimes, and even then, it wouldn't be enough."

#remus lupin #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #older!remus lupin #older!remus lupin x reader #professor!remus lupin x reader #professor!remus lupin #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #hogwarts #jk rowling

[allwaswell16]

F a v o r i t e F i c s O f 2 0 2 2

As an avid One Direction fan fic reader, 2022 has been truly incredible! This may look like a long list for my favorites, but I read so many amazing fics this year that it was so hard to pare it down to just these. Please check out all the other fics I recced this year here! Below you will find fics that made me laugh or cry, brought me joy or filled me with emotion, and surprised or comforted me. I share this list not to say that these fics are better than the rest (although I think they're amazing), but to share ones that left a mark on me.

To all our fandom's writers, I thank you for gifting us with your stories, and I send so much love to all of you!

✼ Larry ✼

The Greatest Thing by @infinitelymint

(E, 163k, canon)  the semi-canon accidentally married in Vegas fic that has been seven years in the making

ghost of you by beckywritesthings / @beckydoesthings

(E, 109k, Star Wars au) a Star Wars AU where Harry is Obi-Wan, Louis is Satine, and somehow there’s a love story between the cracks where there shouldn’t be.

For the Right Reasons by @juliusschmidt

(E, 105k, Bachelor au) Louis may have signed up to be a contestant on the Bachelor, but he’s not interested a ring or a proposal, not from Harry, not from anyone. 

Into the Weeds by kair0sclerosis / @hearyouhowling

(M, 87k, strangers to friends to lovers) This is a story about small-town secrets, found family, queer identities, and the battle between fight and flight.

Late Night Talking by @kingsofeverything

(E, 53k, famous/famous) Louis Tomlinson has a new album coming out and a second world tour on the horizon. Promo season gets underway with a stop at Late Night Talking, the late night show hosted by Harry Styles, and Harry Styles just happens to be the man who blew a chance to date Louis a decade ago.

Chasing, Searching, Dreaming by @parmahamlarrie

(E, 46k, soulmates au) Harry has known who his soulmate is since he was twenty years old, and ever since, he has been waiting for Louis to be ready for him. 

I Like You, Say It Back by ishiplouis / @pocketsunshineharry

(E, 43k, a/b/o) the one where it takes a lot of time for Harry and Louis to figure it out. But they do, they always do, don't they?

Mind of Stone by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

(M, 41k, mythology au) He needs to find a way back home, and then figure out what the fuck happened at the bar tonight.

yeah, he's a looker (but i really think it's guts that matter most) by devilinmybrain / @thedevilinmybrain

(E, 40k, character study) Five times Oli was asked to do something that was outside of his job description, and the one time he didn't have to be asked.

Set the Sky Alight, Oh Holy Night by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 33k, roommates) One house, five almost-strangers (plus Niall), six new beginnings.

All Out of Love by SunTomato / @sun-tomato

(G, 32k, cupid au) While on a mission to match Liam and Zayn, the distraction comes in the shape of Louis Tomlinson – an overworked and underloved man trying way too hard to do everything himself.

Misbehaving Honeys by thinlines / @thinlinez

(E, 29k, a/b/o) In which Omega Louis can't figure out why the alpha newbie on their footie team seems to hold a grudge against him.

dip you in honey by delsicle / @eeveelou

(E, 28k, a/b/o) Anxious about his performance on his wedding night, he enlists the help of his loyal handmaiden Louis to help him practice everything he needs to know

The Risen by @creamcoffeelou

(E, 20k, cult au) In search of the next breaking story, Harry goes off to do something no one else has been able to do: get the scoop on Louis Tomlinson and his devoted group of followers.

Love On Air by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 19k, radio station) the one where Louis doesn't have a type, no matter what Niall says, but if he did, it'd probably be the guy currently trapped in his radio studio and grinning back at him from across the desk.

Breathe me in, breathe me out by @lunarheslwt

(E, 14k, a/b/o au) Louis is drawn into a quaint candle shop in his desire to find ways to soothe himself while struggling with touch depri. It takes him two more run-ins and with the lovely alpha sales assistant, and a drop, to figure out the source of the scent that imprints upon him and calms his omega.

Close Enough to Touch by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf

(M, 11k, tour au) Louis definitely did not need a masseuse on tour. Not even if that masseuse turned out to be gorgeous, kind, and lovely.

Just Your Jinx by @larryatendoftheday

(T, 10k, witch au) Harry Styles may or may not have accidentally jinxed his extremely fit new neighbor, and it's not so easy to make things right.

Wild As You by bluegreenish / @greenblueish

(M, 9k, country au) a story about how Harry figures out whether the ideal of a house with a white picket fence in the suburbs of a medium-sized city is what he wants, or whether Louis' sheep ranch is the home his heart really desires.

Just the Start by @littleroverlouis

(M, 9k, silver fox au) Louis is a fifty-two year old divorcé who has fallen into a rut. He never anticipated a forced day of self care, and a chance meeting with a charming salon owner would shake him out of his comfort zone.

How It Begins (series) by phdmama / @phd-mama

(E, 8k, kid fic) New town, new job, new school for his daughter. It's a chance to start again for Louis Tomlinson, a clean slate. Or is it?

good enough (for you) by localopa / @voulezloux

(G, 8k, a/b/o) in spite of the rule saying he needs an alpha to rule, he creates an impossible olympics to find a worthy mate. 

The Bandits of Sherwood Forest by foreverfanficaddict / @chaotic-bells

(T, 8k, Robin Hood au) There has been a heap of legends and tall tales about him… But this is the story of what really happened in Sherwood Forest.

Mr. Tuesday by @jaerie

(E, 8k, sex work) It was true that most of his clients were regulars, but there was just something about Mr. Tuesday that would make him stand out amongst the others even if he hadn’t booked almost every single Tuesday with him for the past year. 

Will Death Be Our Last Kiss, My Love? by @fallinglikethis

(M, 6k, Potter Direction) As a half-veela, Louis has always had a past full of romantic turmoil. But his past comes back to bite him fully on the ass when a case falls into the lap of fellow aurors, Niall and Liam.

We're Getting Better With Time by @haztobegood

(T, 5k, silver fox au) the one where Louis is single, Harry is recently divorced, and they reconnect on Facebook forty years after they first met.

Seems You Cannot Be Replaced by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(M, 5k, high school) Harry and the popular boy in school, Louis Tomlinson, share a tension-filled night together when they're young. Fifteen years later they see each other again.

Love Mail by @neondiamond

(G, 5k, neighbors au) the one where Harry and Louis keep mistakenly receiving each other’s mail (and also fall in love)

ring around the moon by unwept / @peachade

(T, 5k, historical au) 5 slices where they seek shelter in each other.

Simply the Nest (Better Than All the Rest) by @homosociallyyours

(G, 2k, a/b/o) It's been a few months since Louis moved to a new town, and he still hasn't managed to get his nest to feel as comforting as he'd like it to.

Cake Date? by @sadaveniren

(M, 2k, neighbors) Louis is raising money for a bake sale. Harry wants to help.

Check, Check, Checkmate by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense

(E, 2k, Greek mythology au) Harry and Louis play chess... until another game becomes more interesting.

Zoey by @wabadabadaba

(G, 2k, cat fic) Harry has a huge crush on his cat's veterinarian and finally decides to do something about it.

Charm Your Pants Off by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

(G, 2k, hospital au) When Harry hurt himself in front of all of his coworkers, he thought his Christmas Eve couldn’t get any worse. That was, until he ended up in an actual ambulance.

Needle by @nouies

(NR, 666 words, dark fantasy) “You didn’t deserve this,” he muttered between hiccups. “She didn’t have the right.”

there’s a house in english bond (somebody planned to stay) by safetyfilm / @larrieblr

(T, 666 words, rules) The Hotel dates back to the mid-17th century, and the owners have invested dearly to make it a home away from home. Please mind our building rules written below in order to have an exceptional stay.

Swings Said by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(T, 500 words, swing fic) A love story told by five swings who each were there to see a piece of it unfold.

✼ Rare Pairs ✼

leave my life outside (or let me in) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(M, 52k, Zayn/Liam) Zayn is a 111 year old demon who is trying to decide his future. Liam is a 17 year old human struggling with his own life.

Make It Up As We Go Along by @lululawrence

(NR, 52k, OT5, a/b/o) When a baby is left on their doorstep, their lives become the definition of chaos...but maybe that is exactly what they need to see what has been right in front of them all along.

Sweet Talk (series) by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment

(M, 14k, Louis/Niall) Louis growls and lunges at the slayer without warning. Niall easily deflects her, though, then grabs the collar of Louis’ leather coat with her unnaturally strong grip and throws her back into the wall where she came from. 

With This Wing, I Thee Wed by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 4k, Louis/Niall) “Nando’s?” Niall crosses his arms and pouts, a little line appearing between his eyebrows. “I want Nandos. I like Nandos.” “And I like my dignity,” Louis mutters.

Doin' Somethin' Right by @laynefaire

(E, 5k, Zayn/Liam) While Liam craved the bright lights and excitement of being on the road, Zayn has eschewed his prior fame, instead choosing a life of relative obscurity as the owner of a vineyard and bed and breakfast in Dauphin County, Pennsylvania.

Ready Or Not by cherrylarry / @beelou

(G, 4k, Liam/Louis) five times 1D play hide and seek over the years

still, somehow by @disgruntledkittenface

(NR, 1k, Liam/Louis) Louis trims Liam's split ends.

#trackinghome #hltracks #tracksintheam #1dficvillage #1dsource #ficrec #disgruntledkittenface #beelou #laynefaire #ladyaj-13 #quelsentiment #lululawrence #so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed #infinitelymint #juliusschmidt #kingsofeverything #beckydoesthings #thedevilinmybrain #hearyouhowling #parmahamlarrie #pocketsunshineharry #haztobegood #jaerie #nouies #larrieblr #wabadabadaba #uhoh-but-yeah-alright #becomeawendybird #neondiamond #evilovesyou

[boosbabycakes28]

Invisible String

Paring: Louis and Harry/Zayn and Liam

Rating: ABO/explicit

Length: 85k

Written: outside of the @bottomlouisficfest (old prompt)

Summary:

Louis swears on his life that that man came out of literal nowhere and he thanks each lucky star for having good breaks in his car.

This strange alpha also happens to be the most beautiful being Louis has laid his eyes on.

For some unknown reason, the omega feels safe around the alpha. It might seem strange, but you can't always explain why or how things are the way they are. All you can really be sure of is that they happen for a reason. There's a higher power (call it what you want) that knows better and definitely knows more than you do.

#larry fic #abo #alpha Harry #omega Louis #angst #fluff #i Hope You’ll enjoy #🫶🏻

[shelbgrey]

Stuck in the middle: what it's like being close to Derek and Addison during their devorce.

Summary: headcanons on what life is like when two of most important people are at war and holidays become questionable.

Paring: Platonic!reader X Derek shepherd, Patonic!Reader X Addison Montgomery, Mark Sloan x reader

Request: @luvlesavyy Where the reader is a woman of about 21 years old, and enters the residency program along with the others, however, she is almost like a sister to Derek (they were raised together and even because of the age difference, they love each other too much) addisson is like a mother to her and she gets really bad with everything that happens between them. Maybe you could write headcanons of what her holidays would be like with them, the whole family together, and Mark would have a crush on her.

A/n: hope you like it, thanks for the request

Greys MasterList

~you've known Derek since you were kids. Even though he's got a few years on you the two of you have been glued to the hip ever since you met.

~you of course met Addison through Derek and she seemed to take a immediate liking to you. You didn't really have a good home life so Addison didn't hesitate to take you under her wing.

~with the three of you being so close and them helping you through medical school you were certainly crushed when you heard Addie cheated on Derek.

~the night that it happened Derek had came to your apartment. He was emotional mess and not only was he distraught he was angry... And so were you, you would never in a million years think Addison would cheat.

~what hurt more was the fact that she cheated on him with Mark, another close friend.

~you always liked Mark. Yes he's was older but he always treated you like a queen dispite you being strictly friends. Derek always made sure of that.

~“I just need to get out of this damn city”

~“what if you came to Seattle with me? I'm starting the residency program there”

~so that's exactly what you did. He got his trailer out in the woods and you got an apartment about ten minutes away.

~like mentioned before you two are glued to the hip, but there was no way you were gonna live in that cramped trailer with him, no matter how much you loved him.

Your relationship with Derek:

To the unknown people might think you'd two would be a couple... That's far from the truth.

Derek is your Soulmate. He's more than best friend but less than a lover. You've always had each other's backs and he loves you to death.

Derek has always protected you, him and Addie both but Derek seemed to always take it to another level.

You met him through Amilea. It may sound stereotypical but you were getting picked on at a public park near the neighborhood you grew up in. Amilea saw it and got Derek, she was to young to handle it her self so she got Derek. He chased the little punks off and the rest is history.

As Kids you practically lived at the Shepherd's home. Mrs. Shepherd loved you like her own and never made you feel like you did belong.

You had decent relationships with his sisters I guess. Nacy and Kathleen made it clear they didn't care for you too much but Liz and Amilea cared for like crazy, but not as much as Derek did.

Derek is one that inspired you to become a doctor. You would always be fascinated by all his medical books and when he graduated medical school is when you decided to go yourself.

Him and Addison got you threw it all and never gave up on you.

It's the little things that made your bond strong, rather it be listing to your rants about your favorite topics, taking you to concerts even he doesn't like the music, dressing up on Halloween with you, or even taking you to watch every Harry Potter movie when they'd be in theaters.

He got you threw your first heartbreak and he's never confirmed or denied the facted he slashed your Ex's tires after finding out he cheated.

If you want a movie night, done he'll get the popcorn, you want to bast Elvis Presley he'll find all the speakers and dance with you. You had a nightmare, he'll sleep on the floor next your bed in till your not scared anymore.

You may not share the same blood but your his sister no matter what.

Your relationship with Addison:

Addison loves you like a daughter or little sister, there's no doubt about that.

She use to stay that day she met you she automatically new you'd be close.

She thought you most things girls learn from their mother, but since yours past away Addie made sure to take care of you.

She'd do your hair, help you pick out close, taught you how to use make up and was there when you got your first Period.

You wanted to be just like her and she was your biggest inspiration growing up.

She helped you get threw your insecurities and always made sure that you knew how beautiful you are.

She hates it when you talk down on yourself and she wishes you saw what she was and that was pure beauty.

If you say anything decorating about yourself she'll give you a little love tap on the head or shoulder.

You were her maid of honor at hers and Derek's wedding.

Addison was the only one who knew about Mark's feelings for you and she kept it a secret for him. She also told him to stay away from you.

When she slept with Mark she felt that she not only betrayed Derek but she also Betrayed you.

She couldn't bring herself to tell you. She didn't want to lose you.

What it's like being around them now:

You didn't know Addison was coming to Seattle. Everything seemed to be great Derek found a girl that really made him happy and you met this guy Alex.

When you saw her you immediately hugged her. Dispite what she did you really did miss her.

“I missed you Addie, but what are you doing here?”

“I'm here to get Derek back, what I did was unforgettable but I gotta try”

Uh oh...

When they do get back together you could immediately tell it wad a mistake.

It's like when a small child can tell mom and dad don't love each other anymore. You can just tell.

Both of them unintentionally stick you in the middle and use you to get back at each other.

“well tell him I can't do that and that he's an idiot”

“tell her that's not what the patient needs”

It drives you crazy but most of all it hurts.

You could tell Derek's hurting so you don't say anything. You love them both and definitely don't want to choose sides.

What holidays are like with them:

The first Christmas they had back together would have been depressing without you. Derek didn't feel like celebrating anything and Addison would ignore it.

But on the bright side you got a small Christmas tree to put in Derek's trailer and tried to cheer him up. With or without Addison you were gonna give Derek a good Christmas. He deserved it.

With Addison you'd look through magazines and pick out gifts for Mrs. Shepherd and Derek's sister.

Addison will make sure to get you expensive gifts. Some of which she over thought about. As bad as it sounds she unknowingly wanted to out do Derek.

Derek knows you like the back of his hand so he'd get you anything that you loved rather it be something from your favorite show or even one of a kind collectable.

The presents didn't matter you just wanted to have a peaceful Christmas with the both of them... Like how they used to be.

On Christmas eve you decorated the trailer and they came home to a Christmas tree and your puppy eyes begging for a Christmas.

It turned out to be an amazing night. Christmas movies and laughter. Like how it used to be..

If it's Halloween you and Derek will have a horror movie marathon. You two will be laughing at the gore and Addison will be covering her face in fear or disgust.

Thanksgiving is about like Christmas. You'd put something amazing together and you'll have one night of peace.

Mark having a crush on you:

This was just trouble from the start.

If we're being honest Mark loved you since they day you met, but the problem was he was too afraid to admit and derek would have never let it happen.

Mark loves everything about you. He loves how goofy and kind you are. He feel in love with how your eyes sparkl when you talk about something you love and he especially loves your bubbly personality.

Derek could tell. He saw the way he looked at you and it angered him and scared him. He didn't want Mark hurting you.

He thought he loved Addison but in reality he just wanted to prove to himself he could be happy without you. That wasn't true and not only did he hurt his best friend, he hurt you too.

When He came to Seattle he not only wanted to get Derek back, he wanted to get you back to.

Derek didn't trust him and he wanted to make sure Mark stayed far away from you.

At times it was annoying but you understood where Derek was coming from.

The day mark came to visit Seattle-Grace he got a punch in the face by Derek and you had to patch him up.

As you were giving him stitches his steal-blue eyes never left you. He could feel his heart pounding because of how close he was to you.

“I really did miss you N/n”

You didn't know what to feel. You loved his charm and you will admit you missed him. You missed his laugh, smile, even missed the smell of his colone.

You didn't want to get hurt so you pushed him away, but Mark wasn't gonna give up too easily.

He didn't tell Derek how he felt about you because he knew Derek wouldn't stand by it.

Addison on the other hand told him if he hurt you she'd cut his balls off. She just wants you to be happy but if your hurt all hell will break loose.

“”

You kept your relationship a secret for awhile. You told Callie because of how close you were but Derek was in the dark about it.

You hated lying to him but you knew he would never except it. But really he'd just be happy that your happy, that's all he ever wanted for you.

But mark told him to at the wrong time. Derek lost a patient and Mark was determined to tell him.

They got in a fight and you and Meredith had to pull them apart. You felt like you were being towrn apart. You didn't know which side to take.

The night if happened you want to check on Derek after patching Mark up.

“I love him”

“I just don't want you to get hurt”

You and Meredith got them to work things out and everything seemed to fall into place.

Extra headcanons:

You and Meredith become the best of friends through the two men.

Even though your bit, if not the same age as Meredith you two take care of each other.

Double dates all the time.

Mark is an amazing boyfriend and treats you like the queen you are.

Derek is still over protective but he's getting used to toning it down a bit. It's marks turn to take care of you.

You Became a Peds surgeon and the people who practically raised you couldn't be more proud.

When you become an attending you might or might not have a favorite intern.

Your basically to Levi Schmitt what Derek was to you. You take Levi under your wing and you two become close.

You and Mark end up having twins and Derek is their God-father.

Even though things started off Rocky they couldn't have ended better.

That's all for now,buddies

#Derek shepherd x reader #Derek shepherd imagines #Derek shepherd headcanons #Derek shepherd #Addison Montgomery #Addison Montgomery imagines #Addison Montgomery X reader #Mark Sloan x reader #Mark Sloan imagines #Mark Sloan #Greys anatomy #Greys anatomy x reader #greys anatomy headcanons #Headcanons #Greys anatomy imagines #grey sloan memorial hospital

[orangeflavoryawp]

20 questions for fic writers

Ohhhh, haven't done one of these in a while. Thanks for the tag @esther-dot <3

How many works do you have on Ao3?

On Ao3? 91 But add to that, older fics on ffnet and other independent sites (oh Rolo Realm, my beloved), I think it's 102.

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

1,020,258

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Game of Thrones/ASOIAF, Mass Effect, Dragon Age, Naruto, X-Men, Star Trek, Record of Lodoss War, Sailor Moon, Harry Potter and several unpublished ones

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Almost all Jonsa, lol. - From Instep to Heel - A Violence Done Most Kindly - Wool and Tallow - Shepard Sees the Sky - Hallowed

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always, but it takes me time. I used to be very secluded, still am sometimes, and it took me effort to reply to comments and build relationships and community. I don't want to lose that. It's also important to me that readers understand how meaningful even a single comment is. So yeah, every comment, I try.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Alright, so there's a lot of contenders for this one. I'm not even gonna try to list them off.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably either Interlocking or What Grows in Winter? I don't write a lot of 'happy' endings, I would say. Mostly I write endings that have either hope or closure, and that can come in a multitude of emotions, but those two fics are probably the most light-hearted of my works so I'm going with that.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Sure, but honestly, not nearly as much as I expected. I've never really gotten someone trying to get into an argument with me. It's really just those one-line trolls that mass comment on a fic out of nowhere with stuff like 'Die parasite' or whatever.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do! I can actually say that now, lol. It's semi-recent for me, I guess. Considering how long I've been writing, at least. At the moment it's just het smut, but who knows what the future will bring!

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nope. Dislike crossovers, actually.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Several, actually.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, and I don't plan to. Don't think it would work well.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

I honestly can't answer this. Like... honestly. But the two couples I've spent the most time actively writing for would be Jon/Sansa (Game of Thrones/ASOIAF) and Storm/Wolverine.(X-Men), so there's that.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

It'd be between Rocks and Shoals and Sheparding Men, but I'm more hopeful that I'd return to Rocks and Shoals. Both are Mass Effect fic.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Characterization and emotive language.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Setting and exposition, for sure. Also, paring down a scene, lol.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've thrown in a commonly known phrase or two, but I don't like it being used regularly. There's too much variance on how to show translation in fic, and I find it often breaks the pace of the piece trying to do so, anyway.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Oh geez, thinking back, probably Xena? Though that was unpublished. First published fandom would be X-Men.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Damn, that's hard. But I'm probably going to have to go with Reckoned from One Midnight to the Next for the way it changed my writing style going forward. Perhaps the most formative of my pieces. Close runner up would be A Violence Done Most Kindly though, since it's also pretty formative for me in how I tackle plot now, and I'm really proud of the intricacies in that one.

This was pretty fun! Tagging for those interested @theoriginalsuki @jonsaslove @amymel86 @barbex @hawkeykirsah @vorchagirl @razerathane @tlcinbflo @foofyschmoofer @goddesstiera @joufancyhuh @sailorshadzter

#writing #fanfic #tag game