#this Ray might be the only one it makes sense for everyone to ACTUALLY follow right away

[invinciblerodent]

i decided to play just a tiny bit of my Inquisitor-as-Tav game I had lined up, and I just.... god, i love this old man

he looks so tired, and kindly, and he's a good head taller than everyone

Lae'zel is so damn tiny next to him, I think he needs to pat her head very sweetly (and then succeed a DC18 dex save to avoid getting his fingers bitten off) (it'll be worth it though, maybe it'll calm her down)

[waitmyturtles]

THE MORNING AFTER: ONLY FRIENDS, EPISODE 5 ("CH-CH-CH-CHANGES / TURN AND FACE THE STRANGE") EDITION

Well, well, FUCKING well. Man, I am REELING. THAT. Was a HELL of an episode of a drama. Jojo and his team need to applaud themselves.

Let me set this up by sharing with y’all a tweet that really stuck with me after episode 4, but I think it’s pertinent to episode 5:

Now, yes -- this is a touch of a generalization (many of my queer friends are straight-edge-and-or-early-to-bed-while-living-in-cities folx), but I want to note something important in this tweet.

Before I got started on episode 5 last night, after having seen a lot of the meta and reactions on my dash throughout the day, I shot a note to dear @ranchthoughts that I thought I'd have to get a little #oldmom on this episode. Speaking to chibi's note above: toxicity happens to be a common human trait. Seeing that there was QUITE a bit of surprise for Boston's "outing" of Ray to Sand on my dash actually surprised me.

From my lawyer friends, I learned about the following concept, and I just cracked the fuck up the first time I heard it, because it rang really true once I got my head around it: a lawyer friend once told me that when he started out at a typical major American law firm, his orientation included hearing a presentation from an older managing partner about the idea of the "equal opportunity asshole." Meaning: there's workplace harassment against protected classes, like race-based or sex-based harassment. But: can you get sued if you treat EVERYONE AROUND YOU like shit? And, he didn't mean on a personal level, not on an attacking level. Just on an abrupt, aggressive level. A bossy level. A very direct-toned level.

That kind of interaction -- an interaction with an equal opportunity asshole -- we know those kinds of people, right? These kinds of folks are...titchy. They might jump to conclusions. They're rooted in their worldview ONE HUNDRED PERCENT. They lack empathy. They make you feel unsettled. They are emotionally disconnected from you. They have NO interest in being emotionally connected WITH YOU.

When I dove into episode 5, I really thought I'd be writing about Boston as the equal opportunity asshole, and I think that this theory still holds to a great extent, but -- there's a but, a slight and fascinating-to-me but, that I'll get to in a second.

@ranchthoughts did the thing once more of covering EVERYTHING in her episode 5 ephemerality breakdown, so dear Ranch, I'm just gonna repeat some stuff you said in my own words, if you don't mind. First off, a couple of gushes:

1) That blind dining scene had me swooning. "Life is like a box of chocolates: you never know what you're gonna get," was what I was hearing when I was watching that. These lovely idiots are blind to what's happening in front of them, and what that means to them -- BUT THAT'S OKAY, BECAUSE THEY ARE YOUNG. YOUNG AND INEXPERIENCED. The blind dining metaphor, oh gawd -- using your senses to come to realizations about how you're truly feeling, and how to connect better with WHAT you're feeling? Slamming my hands on the table! BRILLIANT. Mew is SO clueless (OR IS HE?!?!??!).

1.5) And -- remember (all you young folks out there!). Youth is fleeting (cc the Ephemerality Squad). What we're watching of this cohort of "friends" is their building their bases of life experiences NOW, that will TEACH them how they will live more EXPERIENCED lives in their futures. Will their lives be better? Who the fuck knows. But their FUTURE LIVES will be shaped by what they're experiencing NOW.

2) Ranch nailed this already, but Sand is just as bad as Ray in living in the annals of time. (He's also naughty for another reason, which I'll get into in a postscript.) He's got the vintage tees, he wants to rewind to Woodstock, he's a fan of mostly classic Brit rock (....I will not call the Arctic Monkeys classic Brit rock, I will not, thus, "mostly," lol.) Dear friend @neuroticbookworm described this phenomenon of Sand's in the frame of Ray dabbling in a day of poverty tourism, as essentially what his day and night with Sand constituted. But I'd also add that Sand's living in a fantasy world of a couple levels to break the monotony of his everyday life. Those flashes of hope that he'll travel to world to festivals one day -- as he clocks 450 baht (around $12 USD) per bottle, as he sings, as he gets up and gets down -- yes, Ray is his fantasy, his non-existent 25th hour, Ray is the break from monotony that Sand needs as a thing to look forward too. Of course it comes crashing down.

3) But it'll come crashing down anyway, because I will posit the following: Sand's survival fantasies are necessary to keep him going by way of motivation, because Sand is going to be held back by others, and not just Ray. Sand is caught in a trap of filial piety. (OH SHIT! GIMME!) He's paying off his mom's debts.

We don't know how much the debts are. [We're seeing in Dangerous Romance that Sailom is getting his ass beat if he and his brother don't pay the debt collectors on time every month. Shit, the debt collectors are even trying to make Sailom an escort (which then turns into Kanghan buying off Sailom himself, but lemme leave that alone, WRONG SHOW)]. But even Sand's mom admits: Sand is solving a problem of MY OWN CREATION. How good is my son? He's a very good son. Drink up, honey.

Sand thought of Ray: wow, this guy might be into me, and shit, I'm into him. And I could use this right now! I could use this break. And that illusion came crashing down when Sand -- an intelligent dude! -- put two and two together real fast. And Sand, very rightly -- because he is FAST learning independence, in a totally different way than the main OF quartet -- pulls the hell away, and puts away the fantasy of Ray at Alone O'Clock.

3.5) I just want to note, real quick, that we now have TWO of my favorite-ist themes in this show: we have intergenerational trauma by way of Ray, and filial piety by way of Sand. THANK YOU, JOJO AND TEAM! *This* bitch is TRACKIN'.

4) Big ephemerality note here: I just, I SWOONED, GOD, I LOVED IT, WHEN RAY REVEALED HIS MOTHER WAS AN ACTRESS. And that she was bitter about getting pregnant and how that affected her career. Are you kidding me? JOJO. NINEW. ALL OF YOU. BRILLIANT. The ephemerality OF SHOWBIZ ITSELF.

Aren't all these actors risking their damn careers by potentially BLOWING UP THEIR SHIPS for the sake of this show? (I mean, that's actually a little far-fetched, as FirstKhao will be the first GMMTV pair to have an intercontinental fanmeet, BUT STILL.) God, the commentary on the FICKLENESS of showbiz was just CHEF'S KISS.

5) As Ranch noted, this was the episode where CHANNNNNGGGGEEEEE was the big bell ringing. Top needed something different than his sexual monotony -- so he goes after Mew, and shit, homes is bored AF. (@lurkingshan covered this perfectly here.) Mew contemplates changing for Top, the LASIK, the sex, all of it. Top seems to try a different kind of sex with Mew -- soft and romantic sex that ends with "I love you." Nick (oh, my bubby Nick), changes for Boston, becomes ripped, finds buttons and slacks. Boston contemplates whittling his list down. Ray wears secondhand (lol, it's called "vintage," asshole). Sand changes his routine to accommodate Ray.

And yet. I very, very often say in my posts that the process of behavioral change is INCREDIBLY difficult.

The five stages of behavioral change are: pre-contemplation, contemplation (Nick and the podcast), preparation, action (Nick at the gym), and maintenance.

The risk to this process, at any point in time, is: RELAPSE.

Think of how difficult it is to quit smoking. To go on a diet. To start an exercise routine. To stop biting your nails.

What is the thing that marks these processes more than anything else?

It's the RELAPSE into the old behavior, the old habits.

We really saw Boston trying to change...something. Trying to stick out...something with Nick. Trying on something new. Kinda like the way Ray tried on his secondhand shirt.

And then Boston experiences a familiar trigger: a trigger of jealousy when Mew calls him, innocently, to give Boston the heads-up that he's about ready to experience some cherry magic.

And that trigger, like all of our own triggers -- stress, a change of environment, a change of the people around you -- sent Boston back to a place.

Listen, I will, in no way, ever defend Boston's behavior. He was drunk and high AF, and he's generally toxic. Jojo is totally egging this on.

I would absolutely call Boston an equal opportunity asshole. He's only seeing the world from his own worldview, his own desires, his own desire to control whatever he can control around him.

But like I said before: toxicity is FAR more common that we'd like to believe. And toxicity within someone doesn't disappear very easily -- just like any of our habits, be they good or bad habits.

Boston was trying out a new life, for a few minutes (lol), of being a LITTLE LESS EPHEMERAL, a little less aloof -- a little less toxic. And a trigger brought him back to his bad place, and I think what we saw in that damn outburst was a relapse of the highest order.

Ray repeats to Nick what Top and Cheum have already said. This guy, Boston? He's nasty. Stay away. Boston's an asshole. Boston's still being stigmatized, and still living up to his label.

How would I summarize all of this? Throughout this ENTIRE episode, what was screaming within my head, as I said above, was: youth is fleeting. Youth itself is ephemeral. The experiences these young folks are going through at this moment in this show will build their experiences for how they will survive (or not) in their futures.

We may think that Boston, and Ray, and Mew, will not learn from their dumbass behavior, but -- they will. They will have no choice. Because their time being this young, and inexperienced, and idiotic, will flee. They'll graduate, and they will have to learn how to survive in a "real" world that may very well be far more brutal to them than their proximate friendships are to them right now. And man, if they have to experience lives that are MORE brutal than these proximate friendships they have, then good LUCK to them, because, well -- shit. It ain't pretty the way it is right now.

...

P.S. I just thought this whole scene was brilliant. Sand, honey, you're not as innocent as your meow feelings are letting on. I'm holding you accountable for what you're saying to Ray, too.

P.P.S. JENNIE.

(HAPPY SUNDAY, EPHEMERALITY SQUAD! @ranchthoughts @lurkingshan @neuroticbookworm @distant-screaming @slayerkitty @clara-maybe-ontheroad @twig-tea)

(HEY, SQUAD: if you tag me in things, and I forget to reblog, send me a DM! I'm on the last stages of this moving chapter of my life, and I don't wanna miss your meta!)

[serenanymph]

Hey everyone! I'm Serena - you can call me Ser - and my pronouns are she/her. This is the writeblr for @murderousewpecspredator! I'll mostly be reblogging writing resources, advice, inspiration etc. here. I'll also be posting my original fics and art, plus updates and snippets (and occasional screaming) as I work on my wips, so be on the lookout for that!

My works tend to include:

➼ high fantasy (occasionally dabbling in urban fantasy, dystopia or sci-fi) ➼ traumatized teenagers forming found families ➼ characters all flavors of queer + male-female friendships and queerplatonic relationships!! ➼ sad backstories ➼ hurt/comfort. SO much hurt/comfort. but also eventual happy endings where the characters get to live peacefully :) ➼ at least one character who is stubbornly kind in the face of a cruel world ➼ and hope!!! I love hope

Find me on: ao3 | wattpad

I'm looking for more writing mutuals so feel free to reply if you share similar writing genres/interests, and I'll give you a follow!

(works under cut)

WIPS

𝐵𝐸𝒜𝒮𝒯

In a world where monsters live in the woods - creatures with the ability to shift forms and wield magic - humans and Beasts have been fighting for centuries. One summer morning, Crys Averwell finds a crow-boy in the forest who has had his wings brutally hacked off.

Unfortunately, saving him from bleeding out is the easy part - because hiding the existence of a Beast from Crys's village, and finding a way for said Beast to get home?

That's going to be another story entirely.

𝒪𝓇,

My current wip!! High fantasy series with found families, banter™ and protags who aren't the heroes or the chosen ones but are just really, really unlucky. Also contains,

large casts

the Sarcastic Withdrawn one + the Ray of Sunshine Extroverted one

a Journey

undead creatures

cool magic with runes and potions and spells and Artifacts

Forests. and Mountains. and More Forests

discrimination, eventual rebellion, blowing stuff up

Sad Times

𝐵𝑜𝑜𝓀𝓈

➢ Crow Wings (2nd draft complete, 3rd draft to be started somewhere in July or August) ➢ Witch's Book (1st draft in progress) ➢ Untitled book 3, 4 and possible 5

series/book 1 intro, book 2 intro

taglist (lmk if you want to be +/-): @deer-in-headlights-stare, @allianaavelinjackson, @arctic-oceans, @space-writes, @reneesbooks

𝒞𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓊𝓅𝓉𝑒𝒹

It's the start of a new school year, and Sakoto Misami's brother has disappeared. Another runaway, people whisper - but Sami knows her brother isn't like that, knows that Irumi would never abandon them.

So when police fail to track him down, she decides to investigate on her own. And the things she finds begin to make her wonder - had she never known her brother after all?

Her questions are promptly answered when, that Friday night, on a deserted train platform, the lights flicker, and something inhuman comes out of the tunnel. Straight for her.

Enter the Swords.

𝒪𝓇,

The half-defined urban fantasy wip I take out to blow dust off of occasionally, because I cannot juggle for the life of me. I do write snippets sometimes though, and I'll properly get into it sometime in the future. Includes,

Cool Swords

spirit companions

a Weird Magic System involving Threads and Needles and Weaving and Fabric. I swear it makes sense I just haven't figured it out yet

subways!!! alleyways!!! parkours and night views and leaping from rooftop to rooftop!!!

traumatized teens, again, and found family, again. But also actual family

qprs!!! heck yeah I love qprs

Yeah that's pretty much it. I have a handful of other ideas I may mention once in a blue moon, but they're sitting on the backburner for now since I'm only able to focus on one project at a time. I also dabble in fanfic, and might occasionally post a short story or a poem, but that's all gotten to be pretty rare.

I'll make proper pages in a while, but until then feel free to poke around in the main tags! The gen tags are #beast and #corrupted, while official tags are #wip: beast and #wip: corrupted (though the last one is largely empty).

See you around!

-Ser

[purplerose244]

Watched the tenth episode of LEGO DreamZzz: LOVED IT!

So I actually watched this episode a whole while ago but forgot to post this... BUT NOW THE SECOND PART OF SEASON 1 IS ALL OUT SO I NEED TO PUT MY THOUGHTS DOWN 😍😍

Also the LEGO Youtube channel continues to bless me with shorts of the series, I'm already a huge fan of Draw with Mateo, and now we got Logan's Training Tutorials (he got such a massive ego istg 😂) AND EVEN AN ANIMATED SHORT CALLED "DREAMOLITION DUO VS THE MUTATED MATH MONSTERS" 🤩🤩🤩 (that one was EXCELLENT, I really hope we get more of those with that style)

Since all the new episodes dropped at the same time I might just make a single or two posts about all of them, we'll see! It's literally just for me to scream about how I love this show 🥰

Anyway, without further ado, let's get into this!

THE GRIM ESCAPE

This coach is pretty narrow minded, but I never had a PE teacher that wasn't 100% convinced gym was everything, so 😂

Dreamcrafting as a concept feels like elemental powers from Ninjago: it's likely the most powerful thing there is, but in most situations it gets nullified or nerfed so it's hard to use it all the time with no limits 😅😅 It does make sense for this place to be no imagination zone, though

I'm sure Logan feels very guilty for the mess he got into, but I do hope he doesn't get forgiven immediately, so I'm glad Mateo is genuinely upset at him

COOP NO 😱

Okay thank goodness 😂

Glad Logan isn't here to hear these orders and not follow them (sorry Logan 😅)

Edison bomb, we had the Edison ray before, I find it funny that the focus is on the guy that dreamed about his inventions

Mmmmm, I'm interested in the Night Hunter, I think there's more to him

LOGAN YOU GOT AMAZING FRIENDS YOU JUST GOTTA LEARN TO TREAT THEM BETTER I SWEAR THEY'RE ON THEIR WAY SWEETIE 😭😭

To be fair, he's doing pretty good on his own for not being able to dreamcraft

LIL BUDDY ACQUIRED 💙

Wolf wolf wolf wolf wolf- also interesting that this are the most normal creatures we saw so far, and it is in the place where the imagination is robbed and taken. Like here they don't waste time with creative creations like in the rest of the world

YES LOGAN TAKE THE HOURGLASS!!!

Yes Logan take your time 😅

Feels like karma Logan getting Stinkbrain as a nick he doesn't like, after mocking Mateo about Mattie this whole time

Z BLOG FIGHT Z BLOB FIGHT I ALWAYS LOVE WHEN THE LIL GUY APPEARS 💚

This show really says "best plan is run" 😂

I love Sneaky, someone needs to humble Logan a little bit... okay A LOT

Everyone loves and cares for Teo so much! LOVE ME A GOOD SUPPORTIVE TEAM 🩷

I still wonder where Zoe found her bow, and if there is a connection over the fact that she got a bow and the Night Hunter got a crossbow, they are the only ones with actual weapons and they are both long range kind of weapons

NUUUUU GOT CAPTURED

No worries mah boy Teo is out there with Z Blob I'm sure he'll think of something!!... oh yeah there's Logan too 😅

Z BINOCULAR WTF

AWWWWWWWWWW MATEO HUGGING LOGAN THAT WAS SO CUTE!!! 💚💙💚💙 Despite being mad at him and with reason too, he was still worried about him! That's why I love him 🥰🥰

Oh, this is nice, Mateo didn't forgive him but he sees that Logan cares. And Logan for once asked him what's the plan, instead of going on a limb as usual! GROWTH!!! 💙

"Everytime I dreamcraft, bad things happen! And then we do a lot of running!"

"Welcome to my world!"

LOL loved that

AWWWWWW!! This is what I was talking about when I said Teo is a great leader, and knows that now Logan can give a great input since he can't dreamcraft like the others! I know I'm focusing on Teo so much but he is my favourite, so 😅💚💚💚

TEO GOT AN IDEAAAAAAAA

Coop getting PTSD from that cage, the poor thing! Do not bring him back in! 😱

Even the Night Hunter is afraid of the Grimwolf! Just what kind of things are living in this place??

OMG TEO ALMOST GOT STABBED BY ZOE'S ARROW TO SAVE LOGAN MY GOSH 😱😱😱 ... I wonder if I can make a fanfiction out of this one 😂

Aww Logan was apologizing for once in his life! Lol Mr. Oz is so confused

"Drive it like you stole it!" Logan, 2023

DREAMBASH!! Okay I saw the LEGO sets for this one, but this is such a cool thing for Cooper and Logan to share! ❤️💙

LOGAN YOU DID NOT CALL A MONKEY SUS WHAT IS THIS SHOW 😂

Okay but Logan jumping off the ship to get back the hourglass? Teo and Sneaky following suit? Mr. Oz being absolutely done with these kids' recklessness? I loved that sequence so much 😂

EDISON BOMB!!!!

Wait Sneak didn't die, he ran away? To avoid the ray? So he's alive? I hope so!!

Poor Logan, he met a good friend...

WAIT WHAT'S THAT HAT?

WAIT THE NIGHT HUNTER FREED THE NIGHTMARE KING??

WAIT SNEAK IS ACTUALLY BAD??? WHAT NO COME ON THE ONE PERSON THAT LOGAN BEFRIENDED RIGHT AWAY!!!

Pff, does the Night Hunter not know Mateo's name? Little artiste?

WAIT WHAT NO NO NO DO NOT EVEN THINK OF DOING ANYTHING TO Z BLOB OR I WILL KILL EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM AND THEN MYSELF 😡😡😡

So now the Nightmare King is after the Waking World... GREAT 😅

I NEED MORE EPISODEEEEESSS 😍😍

[valenteal]

Okay so I just got into The Promised Neverland, the anime, I adore season 1. It was beautiful and heartbreaking and hopeful and unique. Season 2 isn’t half as enjoyable but I think this for different reasons than most people.

Everyone else is like ‘oh no they skipped over so much of the manga’ and I’m just like????? No??? Because the way I see it the whole Lambda thing is a cop out that makes exactly 0 logical sense. After season one they lost the plot. Simple as that. They did irrational things for the sake of drama.

I mean think about it, they didn’t want to actually kill Norman so they came up with this elaborate experimental plantation but it doesn’t make sense. Norman was the cream of the crop, the one they were looking forward to, they wouldn’t keep him alive and experiment on him and possibly make him inedible. When we farm animals do we do that?! It’s illogical. If they were trying to clone him I might get it but they weren’t. And then when Norman goes crazy from the torture (because drama!) part of his arguments is that the demons in charge want to maintain the status quo. They’re supposedly very happy with the current system. If that were the case they wouldn’t be doing those experiments at the cost of their best product!

And don’t even get me started on the whole ‘eating humans to be intelligent’ thing. Like… that’s not… where did that even come from!? But oh wait! There’s this super convenient solution! It’s so convoluted but also so forced, like… that isn’t how biology works. I get that this is a fantasy world but that’s too far.

If it were me, I’d have season 1 stay the same and just scrap season 2 for parts. I actually like Sonju, even if his appearance is a bit deus ex machina. His motivation for helping them is interesting and I think he creates a unique situation for the kids. I like the religious fanatic angle, and I like the kids having a mentor. If they’d just let things continue organically instead of forcing it… I mean Ray isn’t stupid, he wouldn’t carve the coordinates where enemies would see. He would have at least used code. They could have stayed at the base thing and built a freaking safe haven and then launched a quiet war against the farms. Guerrilla warfare, slowly rescuing more and more kids, building more bases. Do it realistically, none of this ‘one chemical weapon solves all our problems’ and ‘but wiping them out is wrong!’ quick fixes and simple plans stopped only by moral dilemmas. It too simplified but they try to disguise it with all the drama. It’s okay we took the cowards road and didn’t kill Norman cause he’s so traumatized we can barely recognize him! It’s okay we’re pulling easy solutions out of our asses because they trigger moral strife and end in the main characters struggling to choose the path of light! Drama!

Look, I haven’t read the manga yet but I don’t know how much more I would’ve liked it. It doesn’t matter if we get more context, it’s still just burying the plot holes and cop outs in more drama. We don’t need a simple answer, that’s not how systemic oppression is fixed, that’s not how war and rebellion works. There are plenty of ways they could have gone. Hell there are other, better ways they could save Norman! His shipment was abnormal and unscheduled, Isabella could have saved him or Minerva and his followers, something else, anything else.

I have feelings about this. Season 1 was amazing. Season 2 was just full of familiar cop outs disguised as “plot twists.” It was disappointing. This series had real potential.

[letterstotheflre]

that’s the thing about illicit affairs

summary: james was never hers to lose.

warnings: CHEATING, age gap (not specified but reader is in her 20s), tiiiny angst?? i don’t think it’s sad lmao, allusions to sex and one miniature sex scene, some food mentions, and a very badly written argument.

word count: 3k (why are they always so long ffs)

a/n: my first james potter fic <3 i love this man so much, sorry for making you the bad guy here. this one’s been sitting in my drafts for a few weeks, and since i’ve been feeling kinda sad i finally got around to edit it. also hedric rights!!

They always meet like this.

The room is dark except for a small sea salt lamp she bought on sale from Target. Her clothes are piling up on the floor, discarded carelessly by her lover, and his are not too far from meeting the same fate.

He is kissing her hungrily as he could never get enough of her. His hands travel all over her back while she unbuttons his shirt, their lips never parting. He moves her to her bed, the sheets a pale green that reminds him of—

No. He closes his eyes tightly, pretends the green is actually blue like the lacy bralette that covers her breasts and moves his lips down to her jaw. He sucks and nips and bites, letting her moans echo freely between the four walls that make their little sanctuary.

Her hands quickly undo his belt and stroke him lightly through the fabric of his boxers. He groans against the junction of her neck, the skin softer than anything he’s touched in years.

He pushes her down on the bed, cupping her face while he looks at her properly, noting the tangled hair caused by his fingers. Her lips are puffy and shiny, his kisses being the perpetrator of their current state. He waits for her to say something, to give him a sign that this is okay.

(It’s not okay, and they both know it. It’ll never be okay.)

She nods her head, and he kneels in front of her, pushing her legs wide open before he dives in.

—

She is laying on her bed, the sheets covering her body as she watches him try to fix up his hair in front of the mirror on her makeshift vanity.

“Make sure no one sees you leave,” she says, “and put—”

“Put my hood up, I know,” he finishes the sentence for her. It’s not the first time they do this dance.

“Sirius and Remus are with Harry at home. I told them I was going for a run, so they won’t say anything if I show up all sweaty,” he adds, trying to fill the awkward silence.

She just nods her head, fingers playing with a loose thread on the edge of the sheet, pulling it a bit more every time she twists her index finger. He steps forward, then sits on her bed and traces her cheekbone with his knuckles. “You know I care about you, right?” he asks.

Her heart clenches, a heavy weight pressing down on her chest that makes it hard to breathe for a second. She lowers her eyes, refusing to stare at those hazel irises that started everything. “I know, James,” she assures quietly, looking at a picture of her and Harry that’s stuck to the wall just behind him.

James brushes back some stray hairs that are still stuck to her forehead, then presses a small kiss on the slightly sweaty skin. He gives her a tentative smile before heading to the door, and she only looks in his direction when she hears the click of the door.

(He might care, but not enough.)

—

Sundays are always a slightly awkward affair at first.

Both of their families have been friends for years, getting together every Sunday for lunch at the Potter’s. James and Sirius always man the grill with her dad, all of them wearing those corny ‘kiss the chef!’ aprons. Her mother helps Lily make the salads in the kitchen while they gossip with Remus, who steals a few tomatoes when they aren’t looking. Now that it’s summer, she and Harry splash each other in the pool instead of catching up in his room.

It’s always strange seeing James in the light of day, pretending that this is the only version of him she knows: the version of him that is a friend, a father, a husband.

But she knows the other version of him: the one that has her on her knees begging for a taste of him, the one that grips her hair while he pounds into her from behind, the one that lets his tongue explore places of her no one else has. The version of him that kisses her forehead and plays with her fingers while their bodies are tangled together under the sheets. The version of him that kisses her as if she were the only one made for him.

(She isn’t.)

They are sitting around the table eating. Sirius is laughing about something with his arm around Remus’s shoulders, his bark of laughter echoing across the garden. Her mother’s shoulders shake as Lily rolls her eyes in amusement. James and her father have gone back to the grill to bring everyone their second round of burgers, and she can hear her father complaining about something from work.

“Here y’go, kid,” says James as he places the plate in front of her before ruffling her hair. She tenses up for a second before relaxing, muttering a small “thank you” before reaching for the ketchup.

She hates that nickname. It’s so impersonal, keeps a distance between them that truly doesn’t exist. As if he isn’t the only person that can make her vision whiten and the colours of her room hazy while she clutches his shoulders. As if he isn’t the only person who can pull so many different sounds from her vocal cords, sounds he knows no one else has ever heard before because he is the only one who can create them.

She can feel Sirius’s eyes on her as she stretches one arm, so she hesitantly glances at him. He raises an eyebrow, eyes switching back and forth between James and her, and she can see the cogs turning in his mind.

She gulps anxiously, dismissing him with a wave of her hand and goes back to eating.

—

James’s moans are loud as he gathers her hair in a makeshift ponytail. His cock is buried in her throat, and he watches as she gags for a second before relaxing her throat.

She’s taking him so deep that her nose nuzzles his pubic hair, the musky scent of James filling her nose as she breathes deeply through it. She starts moving her head up and down, swirling her tongue around the tip every time she rises.

He is a mess above her, needy whines and wanton moans leaving his mouth. His hips thrust up softly, slowly fucking her mouth, and he relishes in the small choking sounds she makes. His head rolls back as he groans, “That’s it, baby, so good to me.”

She winces at the name and pulls away from him. “Don’t call me that,” she mutters, but her hands never stop stroking him. She takes him back into her mouth and starts sucking with a newfound fervour, his voice echoing inside her head as she tries to make him forget about her.

(She tries to forget too.)

—

Honey rays filter through her window.

They are both laying on her bed, James on his stomach while she refills the glasses with some cheap wine she got from the store. He looks at the tiny purple splotches on her neck and the red fingerprints on her hips, then smirks proudly. When she turns, she smiles at him softly.

There’s a summer breeze that ruffles her curtains, and he can hear some teenagers laughing as they walk down the street over the music that plays from her speaker.

She places her glass on her nightstand, her nipples brushing his naked back as she leans over him. She lays down on her side, her fingertips softly drawing shapes on his skin. It takes him a moment to realize they are not random shapes but letters.

Her name, written over his scattered freckles and connecting his moles with cursive loops.

He takes her hand and kisses it, slightly chapped lips pressing against her open palm. Then he kisses her lips, still bitterly sweet with grapes, as his tongue moves languidly against hers while he pulls her by the hand on top of him.

It feels like a distant memory. It feels like a dream.

—

The cacophony of different voices singing “Happy Birthday” rings in her ears.

Harry is at the front of the table, an adorable blush dusting his cheeks at the attention. On either side of him are James and Lily, smiles wide as they watch their son blow the candles. Cedric is behind him, hands on his shoulders, and he leans forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

She sings and claps, whooping with Sirius when Harry blows the last candle. She eats cake and drinks the pretty cocktails Lily ordered. She smiles and laughs, pretends she couldn’t see the way the candles made the golden band on James’s ring finger beam like the sun.

She pretends she doesn’t see the way James holds Lily’s waist before kissing her. She pretends she can’t see them dancing slowly to a song Remus put on the Spotify playlist as a joke.

She pretends she can’t hear his footsteps following her when she goes to the bathroom. She feigns disinterest when he grabs her wrist and pulls her towards a deserted corridor.

But she can’t ignore the butterflies in her stomach when he kisses her, the thrumming in her veins when he pushes one leg between her thighs, nor the pleasure-filled gasps and moans that leave her mouth when he helps her roll her hips along his covered thigh.

It’s thrilling; they’ve never done something like this in public, much less in such proximity to friends and family.

(In such proximity to her.)

Even though she knows it shouldn’t, it gives her a sense of victory. Because he is here with her now: he is kissing her, making her moan, and whispering dirty things in her ear.

A faraway call of his name breaks the spell they’re under. They pull away hastily; she fixes her dress while James makes sure there are no lipstick stains on his face. The footsteps are getting closer, heels hitting the floorboards at the same rhythm as their rapid beating hearts.

It’s Sirius.

James almost breathes a sigh of relief, but she remains tensed up. Sirius looks between them, the same look he had that Sunday all those weeks ago on his face, and she feels bile rising in her throat.

“Lily’s looking for you,” he says, his thumb pointing back over his shoulder towards the reception where everyone’s gathered.

“Right,” says James. “Better go see what she needs. You do not want to see an angry drunk Lily.” He laughs, almost oblivious to the awkward tension between his two friends. He goes back to Lily, leaving her leaning against the wall and Sirius standing in the middle of the hallway.

Sirius looks at her, and even though his mind already knows, he refuses to believe it. “I didn’t know where the bathroom was,” she offers as an explanation. It’s a flimsy excuse, she knows that, but it’s the best she can do under this kind of pressure.

“Right,” he whispers with a short nod, then follows James.

She stays rooted to her spot, lips tingling with the ghost of James touch and a guilty mind.

—

Hours later, she clings to a pillow as she lays on her bed alone. The same pillow James was resting on less than twelve hours ago.

She breathes in deeply, trying to catch any scent of him she can, but there’s only the scent of her fabric softener.

There’s no James. No citrus shampoo or woodsy cologne nor salty air from the beach near his house. Because he never wears any cologne when he comes to her, ensuring that there’s no trace of him once he leaves.

Like he doesn’t even exist.

—

It ends in a parking lot a month later.

She was waiting for Luna to arrive at the mall but ended up asking for a rain check when James texted her, saying they needed to talk.

‘Meet me behind the mall’, she texts him.

She walks to the back of the building and waits for his red car to show up. She already knows where this conversation is going to go, and her heart shatters at the thought of saying goodbye to him.

She raises her head when she hears a honk in front of her, and she gets in while whispering a small “hey”. He doesn’t start the car again, just settles for turning the ignition key off. She looks at the families leaving the mall through the tinted window, refusing to look at him, as her knee bounces up and down anxiously.

The silence is heavy, and she suddenly feels cold in the August heat.

James takes a deep breath, “We can’t keep doing this.”

She can’t help the snarky comment. “That’s not what you were saying yesterday while you had your fingers buried inside me.” He looks at her unimpressed, and she rolls her eyes.

“It’s wrong,” he says— as if she doesn’t already know that. “C’mon, baby, don’t make this harder than it has to—”

“I told you not to call me that!” she raises her voice, and the car gets silent again. She hates the tears that gather in her eyes, hates that she cares so much about him and their stupid game, but she couldn’t help it. Not when he whispered so many sweet nothings in her ears and caressed her skin so softly, almost afraid to break him if he was too rough.

(Not that he cared about that when he stretched her wide open and thrust so hard into her that the bed frame banged against the wall.)

“You can’t just show up here and tell me it’s over like you weren’t the one that came to me first,” she jeers, and she can see the tick of his jaw as he clenches it. Good, she thinks, make him angry.

“Don’t just blame me. You didn’t say ‘no’ once.” He grounds out, “In fact, I can recall you were begging me to fuck you against the wall.”

Her cheeks turn into a small fire, a slight feeling of shame overcoming her. “Oh, like you were any better!” she exclaims. “‘Been thinking about you for months.’ ‘You have no idea the things you do to me.’ ‘No one can suck my cock like you.’ ‘I care about you!’” She deepens her voice to mock him.

James opens his mouth to keep the ball rolling, and she wants him to do it because it meant that the fight was still on, that they wouldn’t have to end this. Instead, he takes a deep breath to calm himself. “I’m telling you now it’s over. Stop acting like a kid who didn’t get her Christmas present,” he says, knowing exactly what he is doing with those words.

“I’m not a kid,” she snaps, her eyes fighting back angry teats at his dismissal. “Then stop acting like one,” he shrugs.

Her hands turn into fists, nails digging themselves into her palms as she tries to keep her anger at bay. “Do you know how much of myself I gave to you? How many plans with my friends have I cancelled in case you called? How many guys I stopped seeing because they weren’t you?” she rants, her voice increasing in volume as she lets her frustration take over. Then, she pauses. “You’ve ruined me, James.”

Her voice is so pained that it makes his heart clench, and he lowers his head, refusing to look at her. He knows, God, he knows what he’s done, but he couldn’t help it. He had been so lonely with Lily spending so much time at the hospital, and then there she was with her caring and understanding nature. With her adorable laughs and those touches that were so addictive, a mercurial high that gave him the lowest lows whenever he tried to stop.

He keeps his mouth shut; there’s nothing left to say anyway, and it’s better for her to hate him rather than anything else. “You are not going to say anything?” It’s meek, vulnerable, and she wants to slap herself for acting this way. She knew it would never last, that he would always choose her.

He was never hers to lose, so why is she still fighting?

She nods her head in surrender, biting her lip to stop herself from sobbing. The anger now gave way to sadness, “I can’t believe I let you make a fool of me.” Her voice is hoarse, a result of the lump in her throat that prevents her from swallowing comfortably.

She gets out of the car and slams the door shut, then leaves the parking lot, leaving him behind. She keeps walking, fingers gripping the straps of her bag until she reaches an empty street.

The golden sun is ready to dip on the horizon, and she can hear James’s car speeding behind her.

—

She doesn’t let the tears fall until she’s inside her apartment.

The moment she closed the door, she crumbled to her knees, loud sobs falling from her mouth and fat tears rolling down her cheeks. It takes her a moment to gather enough strength to walk to her room.

She cries and cries, buries her face in her pillows and starts sobbing even harder because she can smell him. The salty scent and citrus shampoo finally embedded themselves in the fabric, and she can’t believe that after all those days she craved to feel him close to her, he chooses now to leave a trace behind.

She cries for hours until her eyes are puffy and red, and snot comes out of her nose. Her chest heaves with short breaths that don’t really fill her lungs as she clings to that damn pillow before throwing it across the room. She can’t believe it ended like this: with her completely broken for anyone else while James gets to go back to his life and act like nothing ever happened.

Yet she knows that if she had to choose, she would do it all over again because if she had to choose someone to be her ruination, she would choose James Potter a million times.

TAGLIST: @emmaev @gxtitobxby @ildm4ev @capsmischief @arisblackhole @dracosafety @dracoxgeorge @tonystarksmutgarden @blowing-mikey @roonilwazlibswhore @lovelylupinx @sarcasmismyon1ydefence @marxy-06 @glossiable @remusjlupinisdead @amixedwitch @mattefic @artisancowbells @zzzfour — if you want to be added tap here

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Ikevamp Act 2.5

Chapter 10

"Farewell, Holmes."

"We've both been here for what seems like an eternity. If we ever meet again, let's play a game of wits."

With these words, Adam Worth disappeared into the darkness of the night.

Arthur: "Geez, I told you, I'm not Holmes."

On the way home from the theater, Arthur shrugs his shoulders and chuckles, perhaps remembering Worth's words.

Mitsuki: "What's he going to do now?"

Arthur: "He wasn't brainwashed, so he might as well enjoy his new life."

Arthur: "If he commits another crime, I'll leave it to the police to catch him, and maybe I'll even use him as a model for my new work."

Isaac: "The bombing stuff was all just a bluff. He really got me there."

Dazai: "Giving you information is a very clever thing for a crime king to do."

Worth, thought to have fallen into the hands of the mastermind, remained sane.

After Arthur had discovered this, Worth told us what had happened to him since his resurrection.

~~~~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~~~~

Worth: "The vampire who brought me back to life calls himself Vlad."

(This "Vlad" again.)

Arthur: "That bloke really is one nasty pureblood with his power to brainwash people."

Worth: "Yeah. He can inflict negative emotions as well as share useful dreams and memories."

Worth: "I was actually subjected to his power. I could hear him whispering sweetly in my head, kill, kill, kill."

(If Worth had been completely brainwashed, Arthur would have been in real danger tonight.)

Just thinking about it makes the pit of my stomach churn with dread.

Worth: "But killing is against my aesthetics. That much has been my unyielding belief before I came back to life."

Worth: "And I'm a Holmes fan. Thanks to that, I didn't harbor a grudge against you."

Arthur: "I'm honored to have my model crime king say that."

Arthur: "So why did you call me here tonight? You didn't really want to talk about the old days, did you?"

Worth: "That was to see if you were sane, Conan Doyle."

Worth pretended to be brainwashed while watching for Vlad's movements.

He feared that the purebloods were playing a game of brainwashing against each other.

Dazai: "As you can see, we are all sane. I guess we're lucky to have the right person to bring us back to life."

Isaac: "Hey, are the rest of the vampires in your group coming back to their senses...?"

Worth: "I don't know. It looks like it depends on how strong their heart is."

Worth: "Wellington, Gilles de Rais, Salieri, and Gauguin are in Vlad's clutches."

(Huh? Only 4?)

Isaac: "Wait a minute, there has to be one more person. Where's Robert Hooke?"

When Isaac asked, Worth furrowed his eyebrows slightly and a hint of pity in his eyes.

Worth: "You must be Isaac Newton. I'm afraid Hooke took his own life, broken-hearted till the end."

Isaac: "----!"

(He took his own life?)

Worth: "I think he had mixed feelings, but he really looked up to you."

Worth: "He regretted hurting you so much that he even came to his senses at one point."

Isaac: "That's..."

Suddenly, Isaac turned over in shock.

Isaac: "If I hadn't come back from the dead, Mr. Hooke wouldn't be in this situation..."

Dazai: "Isaac, you coming back to life and this case are completely different. You shouldn't let your emotions get the better of you."

Mitsuki: "That's right. Besides, I think Hooke was able to hold on to his heart because of you."

Worth: "The young lady is right. He chose to pull back the curtain on himself rather than hate you through brainwashing."

Isaac: "I should have tried to talk to him more properly. Even back when we're still human."

(Isaac...)

Isaac's voice trembled as he clenched his fists tightly.

My heart was aching, but I stood next to Isaac to support him.

Arthur also patted him on the shoulder caringly, followed by a string of detective-like words.

Arthur: "Something's been bugging me. We hid our former identities, so how did Vlad find out who we had a history with?”

(Now that you mention it, that's true.)

I can only assume that the fact that everyone in the mansion was a historical figure who came back to life as a vampire leaked out from somewhere.

(But where?)

Arthur: "But the answer is quite simple. Someone close to us is giving out information to the mastermind."

Dazai: "..............."

Isaac: "Someone close to us? So the residents of the mansion and―Ah!"

Arthur: "Yeah, there's one more person. The playwright who has access to the mansion and is a good observant."

(You mean Shakespeare?)

The Shakespeare I know is a soft smiling gentleman.

Although it was hard to believe, Worth's reply confirmed Arthur's theory.

Worth: "As expected of you, great detective. I was going to give you a hint, but I guess it was no longer needed."

Worth: "But it wouldn't look good for me to leave without a souvenir. I have one last piece of advice."

Arthur: "Advice?"

Worth: "Yeah. Vlad, the mastermind, is hiding in this city with his two accomplices."

Worth: "One is the alchemist Johann Georg Faust. He was a priest in a church built on the outskirts of town."

Worth: "The other is Charles-Henri Sanson, an executioner. He's the town doctor."

Worth: "And Vlad, the pureblood, with his divine, gentle smile, is a florist."

(................)

(Faust the priest, Charles the town doctor, and the florist.)

Up until now, I've been denying it in my heart every time that name came up.

But there was no doubt anymore.

(Comte's friend, the pureblood, the one trying to bring everyone down is that Vlad...)

~~~~~~~Flashback Ends~~~~~~~

As we walk down the street at night, Arthur and the others sort through the information from Worth.

Arthur: "Sanson was an executioner during the French Revolution."

Arthur: "The number of executions he carried out is said to be more than 2000, including royalty such as Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI."

Dazai: "Faust was reportedly a doctor in Germany. Goethe even wrote a play about him based on an anecdote."

(Vlad is a pureblood, Faust and Charles are revived vampires...)

(I actually wanted to see them, but I never thought they were connected this way.)

The happy times I spent with the kids in the city and at church seem terribly far away now.

Isaac: "Mitsuki, what's wrong? You've been quiet for a while now."

Isaac: "Sorry, I guess we pushed you too hard."

Mitsuki: "No! I'm the one who recklessly insisted on following you, so don't worry about it."

Mitsuki: "I'm just relieved that we are all safe. Hm?"

I look at Arthur, Isaac, and―notice that one person is missing.

Isaac: "Huh? Where did Dazai go? He was there just a moment ago."

(Don't tell me he's acting alone...?)

Dazai usually watches his surroundings more closely, so I don't think he got lost.

Arthur: "Newt, there's a note on your back. Didn't you notice?"

Isaac: "What!? No way."

Isaac hastily puts his hands behind his back.

A note glued to a grain of rice said, "I have some business to attend to, so I'll leave first..."

Isaac: "Ha!? What the hell is that guy thinking!"

Isaac's dumbstruck voice echoed across the sky.

Dazai left Mitsuki and the others alone and headed for a certain residence.

Shakespeare: "I was wondering who was tapping on my window at this hour, but it was just you, Dazai."

Dazai: "Heya, Shakespeare. Sorry to bother you at this time of night."

Dazai: "I was thinking of talking to other fellow writers, and suddenly your face popped into my head."

Dazai enters the mansion through the open window and smiles wryly.

Shakespeare: "What do you and I have to talk about?"

Dazai: "Well, for example, about the play you're currently working on right now, where you make the great men fight each other."

Shakespeare: "----!"

While Dazai continues to smile and get to the heart of the matter, Shakespeare's eyes change their color.

Dazai: "We just had a run-in with Adam Worth a few minutes ago. Luckily, he stayed sane."

Dazai: "I believe you're familiar with Worth as well?"

Shakespeare: ".............."

Dazai: "No, not just him. You were the one who researched the residents of the mansion and their adversaries."

Dazai: "And the mastermind, a pure-blooded vampire, brought them back to life."

Shakespeare: "It seems that all is known already. Have you come to condemn me?"

Two colored twin eyes look at Dazai.

However, his eyes seemed to be wavering in confusion.

Dazai: "We're both writers, and I can't just ignore you."

Dazai: "Shakespeare, you're not fit to act as a villain. In fact, you're too kind to be one."

Shakespeare: "Fufu. Kind? It doesn't matter what my personality is."

Shakespeare: "I just want to write plays that move people."

Shakespeare: "I want to use the extraordinary real-life experiences of the great men, suffering and struggling, as a source of inspiration for my work."

Shakespeare: "For that, I'll even dye my hands the color of blood. There is no turning back for me now."

With a dark smile, Shakespeare stares at his hands, seemingly confronting himself once more with his sin.

Dazai: "I see, actual experiences can become the writer's blood and flesh. I suppose you could say that stories have a life of their own."

Dazai: "Compared to me, who has sold his life for a living, your passion in seeking inspiration for your creations is very noble."

Dazai: "But you're the one who will suffer the most tragedy if this continues, Shakespeare."

Shakespeare: "Me?"

Dazai: "Because isn't that so? You say you want to get your creative juices flowing no matter what it takes, but why do you look so pained?"

Shakespeare: "............."

Shakespeare bites his lip as his true feelings hidden under his mask are revealed.

Shakespeare: "What do you know, Dazai?"

Shakespeare: "I need to keep writing interesting things. Otherwise, I have nothing to live for."

Dazai: "Nothing to live, you say?"

Dazai: "I don't deserve to live or die, so it's not my place to speak for you, but..."

Dazai: "Is it really the nature of writers to cling to writing?"

Shakespeare: "Dazai?"

Dazai's voice sounds different from earlier.

His eyes, as elusive as the hazy moon, are momentarily clouded, but he stares at Shakespeare again.

Dazai: "In my opinion, it's a curse you put on yourself that you have to write something interesting to be of any value."

Shakespeare: "My own curse...?"

Dazai: "You can be free from the curse. You can write whatever you want to write, not for what it's worth."

Dazai: "I would love to read your plays written from the heart, Shakespeare."

Shakespeare: "............"

Dazai: "This play of great men fighting―I hope you will change it into the plot you really want."

Dazai goes to the window he used as an entrance.

Then, he suddenly turns on his heel and says, "Oh, right!" and puts something in Shakespeare's hand.

Shakespeare: "Cupcake?"

The cupcakes in the bag are adorably decorated and instantly recognizable as homemade.

Dazai: "The other day, Toshiko-san hosted a party featuring everyone's favorite foods."

Dazai: "At that time, she said she would bring you some to share."

Shakespeare: "I'm not particularly fond of cupcakes."

Dazai: "Ahaha! In that case, you should tell Toshiko-san what your favorite food is next time. I'm sure she'll be happy to make them for you."

Dazai: "I'll be your companion when that time comes. In Japan, this kind of thing is called: eating in the same pot."

[Meaning: This proverb implies the close relationship among colleagues who spend the time together for a long time.]

Laughing cheerfully, Dazai climbs over the window sill and leaves the manor this time.

After staring briefly at the open window, Shakespeare looks down again.

The cupcake on his sin-stained hand looks so out of place.

But he senses that the cupcakes are made with the best of intentions for the people who would eat them.

Shakespeare: "I have created a mask of William Shakespeare. The mask of a genius who creates interesting plays."

Shakespeare: "But who I really am under the mask? What do I really want?"

The mask he had created fell away, exposing the man's true emotions...

[Streets of Paris]

The streets of Paris are bustling with life.

In front of a wagon overflowing with bright colors, a man wearing an apron magically binds a bouquet of flowers.

Customer: "What a lovely bouquet! It's a perfect gift. Thank you, florist."

Vlad: "You're welcome. Have a nice day."

Vlad looks at the satisfied customer as he leaves, smiling.

Then the voices of people passing through the city reach his ears.

Townsman 1: "The Paris World's Fair is coming soon, I'm so excited."

Townsman 1: "There's going to be a 'human exhibit' at the World's Fair. I heard they're bringing in some rare ethnic groups."

Townsman 2: "It kind of looks like a freak show. But I wonder if it's safe to bring in those types of people...."

Townsman 2: "I hear some of them are savages, barbaric, and cursed."

Townsman 2: "I can't believe they're even a human. It's a little scary."

Vlad: ".............."

As he hears their hush conversation, he feels disappointed and at the same time, a slight tingle of emotion in his chest.

He can never forget the memory of that snowy day.

Vlad: "It's kind of sad. I guess it's human instinct to fear the unknown, discrimination, and persecution."

Vlad: "I wonder if they can ever get rid of their ugly hearts and mistakes."

The moment he mutters to himself...

???: "One rose, please?"

Vlad: ".........."

Vlad turns around at the voice, and his crimson eyes widen.

But he quickly eases up and pulls a single rose from the wagon and offers it to the man in front of him.

Vlad: "Here you go. Ahaha, you finally found me."

Vlad: "It's nice to meet you. Leonardo da Vinci."

Leonardo: "I've always wanted to meet you, Vlad."

Previous Part╏Next Part╏Letter

[craptsukii]

genshin boys and terms of endearment they'd use

a/n: this is my first time writing headcanons and ngl i found them quite difficult to format :( i’m liking this style for now, but things might change later on teehee anyway, lemon cake update next week, i promise!

♡༚࿐ 🇩‌🇮‌🇱‌🇺‌🇨‌

let’s get something out of the way first

diluc is not a jerk

sure, he might have tsundere tendencies but he’s definitely not as cold as people make him seem

in my opinion anyway

i like to call him a classy, but also a very private, softie

i can totally see him as someone who’d use terms such as darling, love, doll

a major factor here is the time and place

in public, he tries to seem more indifferent and will most likely refer to you by your name

however, in a more private setting, he has no inhibitions and actually prefers using nicknames!

I feel like diluc would want to really reassure their partner he truly cares about them, but in a direct yet indirect way

and calling you sweet things seems to get the message across.

listen to this while reading!

If only time could pass faster. Who knew waiting could be such an agonising activity? Such a simple but repetitive thing. Waiting for your cake to finish baking, waiting for the morning to arrive and even waiting for your lover to come home turned out to be much more of a challenge. It wasn’t unusual for Diluc to spend hours on end at Angel’s Share, but it was rather odd of him to break his promises.

A sad smile took over your features, remembering last night. Remembering his words, so sweet and benign, promising to dedicate you all of him and his time. His crimson red eyes, full of love and admiration for the person he held so dearly to his heart. His voice, so demure and nothing but a soft whisper, as if raising it would ruin the moment. The moment he shared with you in a little dark corner of Mondstadt, away from curious eyes and sharp ears. The moment he so desperately wanted to hold onto. Yet, the darknight hero was nowhere to be found.

By the time he finally arrived, your eyes were already closing. It was a gloved hand that pulled you out of your somnolent state. Yet again those same red eyes were looking into yours with the same devotion, if not stronger than the night he made his promise.

“Forgive me, love,” he pleaded in a shushed tone, “Kaeya came in and started causing a commotion and I couldn’t just leave.” he continued, his thumb brushing over your cheek delicately.

Too tired to say anything, you placed your hand over his, silently asking him to join you in bed. You had all the time in the world to discuss tomorrow... Hopefully. After discarding his black coat on one of the chairs and taking off his shoes, Diluc plopped in your shared bed, not even bothering to change into something more comfortable. Soon his arms were around your waist, bringing you closer to his chest. His smell reminded you of grapes and it completely enveloped you as you nestled into him.

“If only I could turn back time…” Diluc murmured to himself, kissing the top of your head. “Nothing will come in between us and our time together tomorrow. I promise you, darling.”

Turns out that, in the end, he does keep his promises.

♡༚࿐ 🇽‌🇮‌🇦‌🇴‌

listen to this while reading!

my very polite baby

like sure, he’s straightforward

but he be treating everyone with respect

you might be wondering why that matters

well that's because i think xiao would see it as a little rude to not refer to someone important to him by their name

names play a major part in xiao’s past

with rex lapis re-naming him after taking him under his wing and such

so, in my opinion, xiao finds calling out your name way more meaningful than nicknames

although if he were to use one it would probably be dear

it’s short and he can still address you as “dear (name)”

it does sound quite formal at times though

Moments like this were rare. Usually, sleep doesn’t concern your lover in the slightest, as it rarely comes to him. Although you couldn’t help but admit how much you loved it when he did come and sleep. Cuddled up next to you was the vigilant yaksha, the well known protector of Liyue. And dare you say, it was truly a divine sight. In the wash of the morning light, his face took the appearance of an old photograph, so nostalgic, so at peace. Slowly, one of your hands brushed past his face, placing the few rebel aquamarine strands that were cascading down his cheek behind his ear. For a moment, you find yourself in perfect silence, Xiao’s soft breaths being the only sounds that could be discerned. Without realising, you started softly rubbing his back, your heart leaping at the content purr that followed shortly after.

It was almost impossible to put into words the joy this brought you. Although it was such a simple, mundane thing, seeing Xiao so at ease was by far your favourite memory with him. The more you studied his features the more your sight fell upon his lips. The sudden urge to kiss him overwhelmed you, wanting nothing more than to cherish and show your lover the affection he deserves.

If only the sudden chirping of birds didn’t scare you, barely a few inches away from his face.

Curse those birds and their awful timing! And so, you backed away, laughing to yourself in self-consciousness, thankful that no one was aware of your little mishap.

Or so you thought.

You felt your face get warmer the moment you saw Xiao looking at you, drowsiness still coating his eyes. Yet again, for another short moment, no sound could be heard.

“____ my dear” he said, his voice deep and hoarse, snaking his arms around you as he brought you closer to him, “if you won’t do it, I will.” it was then the flush across his cheeks became apparent to you. Shame you didn’t have time to savour it, his lips immediately finding yours in a sweet, dream like kiss.

Moments like this were truly worth treasuring.

♡༚࿐ 🇨‌🇭‌🇮‌🇱‌🇩‌🇪‌

in contrast with xiao, childe loves calling you cute nicknames

in fact, he barely uses your name!

sometimes he likes to tease you and pretend he forgot your actual name

of course that’s not true,he could never do such a thing

I can totally see him use pet names such as comrade, girlie, cutie, shawty, sweetness, princess/prince, baby

ok i know shawty is kind of random, but i think he’d use kind of ironically?

I think he’d also use big sister/brother just to tease you, even if you’re younger than him

he heard teucer refer to you as such one time and it honestly melted his heart a little bit

as a side note, seeing his siblings get along you makes him genuinely happy.

listen to this while reading!

Spring was such a beautiful time. Especially in Liyue. Especially on a date with the one and only Childe, eleventh of the Fatui harbingers. For someone with such a fearsome title and reputation, it wowed you to no end just how charming, just plain adorable, Tartaglia can be. Albeit, it was only your second date, it was expected of him to at least try to be nice.

And on time.

As you waited, under that beautiful sky, a hue so gentle between cloud and baby blue, you watched each bird upon wing. It was one of those spring days with a kiss of coldness that somehow heightened the warm rays of the sun. You paused to admire the flowers, to sense their aromas, to be in the moment with their transient beauty.

“Lovely, aren’t they?” asked Childe from behind you, a shy, perhaps slightly embarrassed, smile painted on his lips. “Sorry I’m late, I really overestimated my juniors’ capabilities and I had to step in.” he continued, gingerly taking hold of your hand, kissing the back of it.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his gentlemanly antics, although you enjoyed them nonetheless. “Don’t worry about it, you’re here now.” you reassured him, as you took a hold of his hand, already leading him towards nowhere in particular.

Another thing you liked about him. Things were so casual, so easy-going. One might call this date nothing but a hangout, but not every date has to be a luxurious five star dinner or a fancy show. Sometimes just a simple walk along the Liyue port was enough. Enough for you to get to know Childe, enough for you to like him even more.

Suddenly, Tartaglia was in front of you, his hands lightly taking hold of your face.

“Hold on cutie, there’s something on your face,” he answered your silent question, seeing as you looked a little confused. The next thing you knew, his lips descended upon yours. It was a sudden but very much welcomed kiss. A kiss that unfortunately ended just as abruptly, “it was me.”

♡༚࿐ 🇿‌🇭‌🇴‌🇳‌🇬‌🇱‌🇮‌

favourite peepaw

also prefers using your name rather than nicknames

but he’s not completely against them

he finds them quite nice actually

and he actually enjoys being referred by one!

like imagine going for a stroll with him and all of a sudden you go "darling, look!"

he'd look so content oh my lord

in my opinion anyway

he’d usually call you honey, my beloved or even my one and only!

you could be doing the simplest of things like reading with him under a tree

and he'd go "you're my one and only love"

no, he isn’t aware of how cheesy it sounds.

listen to this while reading!

Who knew the God of contracts could be such a romantic? Usually, Zhongli wasn’t a big fan of fancy, elaborate dates. He’d usually say something along the lines that “spending time with you was enough for him to feel like the richest man in the world”, which he technically was even without your presence. But, quite frankly, it was because he lacked the funds to do so that he didn’t pamper you every moment of the day.

So when you found yourself face to face with an array of different foods, meticulously prepared and arranged on a soft picnic blanket, you couldn’t help but wonder —

“Why the sudden change?” you asked, sitting down on the plush cover, to which Zhongli only chuckled.

“Am I not allowed to change my mind?” he replied in a teasing tone, flopping next to you.

“Oh, you are more than welcome to do so,” you winked, pouring some tea for both of you. It smelled like chamomile, “I was just trying to say it’s a nice change.” you continued, taking a few sips of your tea.

Zhongli only hummed, content with your response. Sometimes, sitting in silence, all while eating delicious brunch foods and drinking sweet tea, was much more enjoyable than small talk.

And so, you spend the rest of the day with your lover, basking in the sunshine and each other’s company. In his embrace, there was something so right, something that felt right, smelt right. You let your body sag, your muscle become loose. In that embrace you felt your worries loose their keen sting and your optimism raise its head from the dirt.

“You’re so beautiful, my beloved,” he whispered, cupping your face and kissing you gently.

♡༚࿐ 🇰‌🇦‌🇪‌🇾‌🇦‌

avid user of nicknames

partially because he finds them cute

and partially because he loves teasing you

he’d use them in public and try to get a reaction out of you

like let’s say all of a sudden kaeya is back hugging you, pampering your neck with kisses

saying something like “what’s wrong, baby?”

he’d also use hot stuff, sweet cheeks, gorgeous, handsome, cutie pie, treasure

sometimes they’re really sweet, other times they’re really silly

side note, i feel like this one got a little out of hand sorry yall i lowkey can’t take kaeya seriously

listen to this while reading!

There was something so heavenly about a kiss in the rain, a tender moment that just wouldn’t wait. It was that burst of love that is expressed, not caring if the water soaked through to chill the skin. You felt yourself gasping for air as Kaeya’s lips left yours, doe like eyes searching for his. Behind that brilliant shade of blue sparkled a glacial attraction. So complex and mysterious, it was magnetic. It made you want him even more.

Upon seeing your dazed state Kaeya smiled, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. His hands found yours. “Let’s get you of here before you catch a cold.” he said, leading you down the streets of Mondstadt. It was the middle of August, and you got caught in nothing more than a summer rain. You weren’t even cold, but alas you let it slide, enjoying seeing Kaeya worry about you, even if it wasn’t as serious as he made it seem.

There is something about a rain-washed pathway that invites playful feet, that says each new step will be rewarded with a splash. And soon, you found yourself splashing around, making the most out of this accidental rain shower.

The moment you finally reached your home, Kaeya wasted no time, his arms already wrapped around you in a tight embrace. Yet again, a gasp escaped your mouth, Kaeya’s cold lips leaving goosebumps behind each carefully placed kiss on your neck.

“You know what’s the best way to get warmed up, treasure?” he asked, his hands ghosting over your hips.

You shook your head softly, awaiting his answer.

“A good old dance party!” he exclaimed, spinning you around as he started humming a cheerful. “Nothing gets the blood going like a little movement!” it was obvious he found great pleasure in seeing your more than confused, if not disappointed, expression. Still, he paid you no mind and continued dancing with you all while singing a cheery melody.

It was quite save to assume there was never a boring moment with this man.

♡༚࿐ 🇦‌🇱‌🇧‌🇪‌🇩‌🇴‌

my favourite elevator boy

doesn’t love nicknames but doesn’t hate them either

i see him as an action speak louder than words guy

and although he’s aware that, as his partner, you know that

he still feels sorry for not being as vocal as other people when it comes to talking about his emotions??

so cute terms like these are a simple way he can show his appreciation for you

for some reason, i think he would really like using diminutives??

he’d call you things like little star

or baby or lovebug

i think it really matches his vibe ngl

listen to this while reading!

The breeze blew warm announcing the coming of summer's hottest days. The aroma of the tall grasses were an intoxicating perfume and the starry night above was a painting more sublime than any man could create. The clarity above became reflected in your mind.

Being with Albedo meant putting up with the unholy amount of hours he’d spend on whatever research he’d be conducting at the time. And luckily for you, his next big discovery involved the stars. On the black sky above you, there were a multitude of stars and there were lighter patches, clusters of faint and bold light, the constellations altered according to the time of year. These were the same stars that greeted the ancients, the same ones that would be there in millions of years.

As you enjoyed your little midnight snack, your gaze fell upon the chief alchemist. His eyes were fixated on the landscape above him, utterly fascinated by the world’s mystic beauty. Seeing him so consumed by his studies made your heart feel warm. It was adorable to see him like this.

Your sudden yawn made both you look at each other. Albedo’s gaze was filled with compassion, and perhaps a little remorse for making you come with him so late in the night just to stare blankly at the sky.

But you knew this wasn’t such a trivial thing.

You pet the spot next to you, silently asking him to sit down with you, to which he immediately obliged. As his head found its place on your shoulder a little sad smile made its appearance on his face.

“Sorry for making you come here with me, baby.” he said, his hand drawing patterns along your thigh. “I know this isn’t your idea of quality time.”

“Any time spent with you is quality time, silly.” you giggled, kissing the top of his head. “And besides, who doesn’t enjoy a little bit of stargazing?”

♡༚࿐ 🇻‌🇪‌🇳‌🇹‌🇮‌

ok now for venti

i feel like with him the tone he uses is very important??

i mean this also applies to the rest of the guys

but for venti even more so

he could simply refer to you by your name and it would still feel all special and bubbly

nonetheless, he loves using pet names!

i mean as a bard, he can come up with poems and such on a whim ( flashback to the signora moment :) )

so his nicknames for you always have a certain meaning or funny story behind them

oh, you love pumpkins or had an unfortunate accident involving one? now he calls you pumpkin all the time

he’d also call you things like sunshine because to him you bring so much joy and you warm his heart just like the sun.

with that being said, good luck to those pulling for him! <3

listen to this while reading!

“There you go! You’re really good at this!” Venti complimented you, observing in great detail the way your fingers touched the strings of his lyre.

Judging by the curious stares and even odd looks you’d get from time to time, that wasn’t really the case. What was supposed to be a simple walk around the city turned out to be a full concert. Although Venti couldn’t find it in his heart to tell you, who asked him so eagerly just a few moments ago if he could teach how to play a song, just how… Poor was your attempt.

A relieved sigh could be heard the moment your fingers left the strings, although Venti’s reassuring smile never left his face. “Don’t let a few strangers discourage you! Even the greatest geniuses had to start somewhere!”

“Are you saying I’m a genius?” you asked teasingly with a raised eyebrow, laughing at his flustered face.

“Let’s not go that far…” he murmured, winking cheekily.

“And here I was, thinking I could wow you with my insane musical skills…” you whined sarcastically, handing him his lyre as you continued your stroll. It was then Venti stopped in his tracks. Upon his face, shock was written all over, his expression soon turning sympathetic. For a moment, he left you alone, diving into the crowd of people, only to return to you with a single cecilia flower. Its fragrance was sweet and fresh and its color a perfect white. Shortly after, he gently placed it behind your ear, smiling to himself while looking at you.

“You don’t need fancy tricks to win over what you already have,” Venti said, kissing your cheek lightly. A cheerful tune could be heard across the street, Venti’s soft melody attracting a lot of attention, “I’m all yours, sunshine.” he said loud enough for more than a few people to hear.

He has such a way with words, doesn’t he?

[babesonly]

fic recs 2.0!

hello kings (gn) ive got significantly more fic than last time which means this is gonna be a little more organized than the last post bc it is much longer <3 categories in order are non casefic canonverse, casefic/roadtrip fic, finale fixits, endverse, non supernatural aus, and then non destiel ones. titles will be in bold for my favs! also within each category they’re in order from shortest to longest

Canonverse

I’m a tulip in a cup by godtiering (1.2k)

I worry that I never really came back from hell. I wonder why, if I got remade by heaven, I’m still the same screwed up kid that I always was.

Sometimes I worry I’m not into women at all.

"Guess not,” he looks at his shoes.

a REALLY good fic that’s basically just a look inside dean’s head during my bloody valentine do not read this looking for a fun time but please do read it

on vessels by flightsofangels (1.9k)

“You know,” Cas mutters into Dean’s bare skin. “When I was still… an angel, I used to dream that I would take you as my vessel.”

hello consumehimnatural fans!!!!! read newt’s fic right now its incredible

dean winchester is not a nicholas sparks protagonist by microcomets (1.9k)

Dean fell in love with Cas the way you fall asleep--slowly, and then all at once. Or some other hackneyed and trite bullshit. God, this is embarrassing.

dean is in LOVE. he’s also a disaster who keeps staring at cas’ hands. sigh

Stay by aeli_kindara (2.5k)

Coda to 13.06 (Tombstone). In which Castiel reckons with the aftermath of Dean's grief.

hello fellow widow arc fans <3 click here to see cas find out abt the events of advanced thanatology !

walking on a string by swordfishtrombones (2.7k)

Between the doomed offensive at the Firmament and the impending retreat from the ravaged northeast border, Castiel left camp long enough to answer one of Dean Winchester's prayers.

S6 DEAN IS A WAR WIFE. been really into early seasons deancas lately and this one is very good. god

the flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k)

Ezekiel 39:17 "you shall eat the flesh of the mighty and drink the blood of the princes of the earth."

MY GOD. anyone who saw the @autisticandroids​ purgatory cannibalism talk and was interested read this right now. also anyone who enjoyed nbc hannibal OR raw (2016). if romantic cannibalism is remotely aligned with your interests read this right now. god

Sam Winchester, Ally At Law by alittleduck (3.3k)

Sam was pretty sure he could read every single gay friendly guide to coming out or supporting queer family members ever written and literally none of them would even imply that arguing with gay people that they were actually just homophobic constituted as "ally behavior". However, Sam was equally sure that none of those book authors had found themselves accidentally watching their brother get pounded by an Angel of the Lord at 9 am on Tuesday, so Sam was pretty sure he might actually still have the higher ground. Now, if only Jack would stop trying to bond with Dean using gay slurs long enough for Sam to convince everyone of that, he might just be able to cobble together some remnant of sanity or, failing that, dignity.

Or, the one where Sam desperately wants to invent PFLAG but Dean won't stop teaching Jack gay slurs

JACK VOICE HEY COCKSUCKERS. 

hummed low by microcomets (3.3k)

Dean pulls the Impala over at a cider barn about thirty miles out; doesn't really think about it, just sees the hokey orange lettering off the roadside and lets his hands guide the Impala off the interstate with gravel spitting under the wheels.

they get a nice day out together and dean has a gay crisis and it’s written beautifully mwah

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi (3.9k)

In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything.

sometimes i think about this fic and it hits that at this point dean and cas would have been married for more than a year. cas my beloved...

an exploration of gender; angelic by sometimeswelose (4k)

Castiel's true form is made of electromagnetic radiation. He has spent the majority of his life, if you really want to add it all up and average the whole thing out, as a wavelength of celestial intent.

The thing about being made of light: it's light in the physics sense of the word. Castiel's waves are gamma, x-ray, micro, and radio. He's visible light too, of course, a visible light so intense that it is blinding to most humans.

hello trans cas community <3 he’s literally trans he was assigned genderless and then went hm actually i will be a man! love of my life

Some Boys are Sleeping Alone by prosopopeya (4.2k)

This isn't something that's okay, not for him, but it chases him through the years until it turns into something he can't -- doesn't want to deny. 

ohhh deans tenuous relationship with his sexuality my beloved...

love. worship. consummation. consumption. by redeyedwrath (4.3k)

ConsumehimNatural (copyright marcusantonius) the Series!

These are all snapshots centered around the idea of you know. Hunger in Supernatural. Both carnal hunger and other kinds. Fics are shown in semi-chronological order but this series is generally nebulously early seasons.

for ANYONE who is a consumehimnaturual this is required reading it is INCREDIBLE and gorgeous and very visceral and i am so very obsessed with it. thank you redeyedwrath for enabling my brainrot

the reach of human sense by perilously (4.5k)

“You know what Jimmy Novak looked like. You think he was beautiful—gorgeous, hot, all of it. It’s him. Not me. This isn’t my face.”

“But,” Dean says. He doesn’t know where he’s going with it. Just that Cas’ face is right there, brows drawn together and cheekbones gleaming in the lamplight. It’s a face that’s made his heart skip probably a couple hundred beats collectively since they met.

And it used to belong to someone else.

this one is just very nice <3 cas gets uncomfortable w dean calling him attractive since dean has never seen his trueform and they work it out

Down in the River by Ias (4.7k)

Alone in Purgatory and hunted by Leviathans, Castiel finds himself praying to the one person who can't hear him.

cas i love you <3 cas alone in purgatory praying to dean bc dean is the only thing he still worships i love you so much

Creature of Habit by trinityofone (5.1k)

The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well.

written in s5 when cas was depowered and completely nails the later seasons bitchy husbands dynamic it’s very good and fun <3

sink by crackers4jenn (5.4k)

"Where to?" A 9.06 coda.

very bittersweet very well written and also canon compliant so do not go into this one looking for a happy ending but i DO recommend it it’s very good

Sensational by castiowl (6.1k)

“When I first came to earth, it was advised that we temper the senses bound to our vessels. They were a distraction, we were told. An antiquated form of experiencing existence that would hinder our ability to complete our missions, whatever that may be. My true form can better facilitate these experiences. What you would recognize as heightened senses of sight and sound, among other things.”

Or, how Dean helps Cas experience all five human senses for the first time in one night.

early seasons deancas man. i love the sound part i love dean being so worried about doing a good job with this. god. read this please

Something to Protect by Sass_Master (6.2k)

Dean’s violent reaction to being unexpectedly woken has become something of a running joke among them, but Castiel can’t help but look past it to the underlying cause. It makes him ache to think that Dean feels so unsafe, so persecuted, before he’s even fully conscious.

Secretly, Castiel has been determined to work on that, to ease Dean into awareness in a less jarring way, smooth away one of the many stresses that follow him even in sleep. Now’s as good a time as any to try.

oh to sleep more soundly in the presence of someone you love...this fic is very nice i enjoyed it a lot

all this and heaven too by ftmsteverogers (7k)

“Hey,” Dean said. “I’m not ashamed of you, okay?”

Cas raised skeptical eyes to meet his.

“I mean it,” Dean insisted.

“I understand you mean it,” Cas said. “But I don’t think it’s any better if you’re only ashamed of yourself.”

hello trans dean community here is 7k of trans dean having to deal with his internalized homophobia now that he’s sleeping with cas <3 it is SO good

The wilderness. by orange_crushed (8k)

He takes a shower and the pressure is not especially good, but it doesn’t matter. It’s warm and he stands under the spray a long time. Human skin, he knows, constantly renews itself, shedding the dead cells of the epidermis. He wonders how long it will take until he is an entirely new person, until every cell on his surface is a new one. He looks at his hands under the water. It might take less than a month.

this might be the only post 9x03 fic on here with a happy ending actually? plenty of good melancholy leading up to it though <3 canon divergent after 9x03 though which means no 9x06 fanfiction gap but it is absolutely worth reading

till the juice runs by deathbanjo (8.4k)

Apparently whoever drew up the venn diagram of Dean’s sex life decided the circle labelled ‘good sex’ and the one labelled ‘sex with men’ should be kept far apart.

hello this one is SO funny dean finally gets comfortable enough with his bisexuality to start having sex with men and it goes so very bad every time so sorry about your shitty choices beloved </3

First Date by aeli_kindara (8.9k)

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

this one is very sweet i liked it a lot <3 good refreshing little fic where they just get to have a nice evening together

Entertaining Strangers by cadignan (9k)

Dean settles on to his side, lying in the bed facing Castiel. “So you had sex without me and you bit all my moves. I think I deserve to hear about it, at least. What was her name?”

op im in love with you. premise is established relationship deancas and cas mentions he did have sex before dean and not only that it was a threesome. good for him <3 this fic is cas describing the story of what led up to the threesome and what happened during it while dean interrupts regularly. incredible

the shape you take by noviembre (10k)

“What?” Dean says, fake-offended. “I’d be hot as a girl, you know I would.”

And this is when he really, really should have stopped talking. When he shouldn't have whipped back around and asked, “Cas, if I was a woman, you’d fuck me, right?”

Because if he hadn’t said that, then he wouldn’t have had to deal with this:

Cas, meeting his eyes, forehead wrinkles all smoothed out like there’s nothing to be confused about anymore. Cas with something at the corner of his mouth that might barely be called a smile.

Cas saying, calmly and without hesitation, “Yes, Dean.”

--

Dean Winchester fucks around and, with the inadvertent help of some witches, Finds Out.

dean winchester your gender is diabolical. this fic is insane and its the only thing that matters actually. dean fully convinced its normal and straight to think about being a woman so you can fuck your male friend. incredible. op im proposing to you

Sinnerman by a_good_soldier (10k)

Dean listens to Nina Simone, reads Anne Carson, and makes out with a dude (sort of).

yall want to read about dean realizing he’s in love with a man as a direct result of learning to better respect women right?

you’re fooling yourself by cowboydeanwinchester (13k)

Dean Winchester and Castiel retire from hunting to raise baby Jack. Dean struggles to allow himself the things he truly wants.

Jack is two, Castiel and Dean are idiots, and Sam's gotta solve everyone's problems.

love a married couple who doesn’t know they’re married <3 everyone say thank you sam for bullying dean 

The Girlfriend Experience by rageprufrock (15k)

While it's not like Dean hasn't had a couple of truly regrettable hit-and-runs in his sexual history, this is probably the saddest fucking thing that has ever happened to him.

a classic for good fucking reason. we’ve all talked about dean thinking holding hands is too gay after having just had gay sex but my personal favorite was sam accusing dean of cheating on cas because dean bought condoms. incredible

No Kingdom To Come by domesticadventures (16k)

“We should fuck,” Dean says.

Cas looks up from where he sits on his bed, hair still damp from the shower, frowning as he places a finger on the page of his book to mark where he left off.

There are a million things Cas could say here; Dean has rehearsed them. After lunch, his restlessness had given way to a vague panic, a dread that matched his every step and crept along with him from room to room. Eventually, he had returned to his bedroom and spent the rest of the afternoon pacing back and forth, playing out all the possible scenarios. When Cas asks him Why? or Are you being serious? or when he sighs and says, in that way he has, Dean, he knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’s going to shrug casually, like he isn’t invested in the answer, like he isn’t desperate for an outlet, and say, Why not? He’s going to raise an eyebrow and say, What, are you not interested? He’s going to crowd into Cas’ personal space, he’s going to shove himself right up in there and whisper Cas against his ear.

Instead, Cas says, carefully, “Okay.”

literally the only quarantine fic i’ve ever bothered to read in any fandom and completely worth it it’s SO good. they become fwb and dean has an existential crisis and he keeps bringing up meaninglessness and death during sex

Bodies by Speary (18k)

It was a secret they never acknowledged even with each other. It would change everything, end everything if either of them ever dropped the act. So they became very good at acting, at keeping up the lie that gave them what they wanted. Even if that lie involved constantly seeking out temporary, consenting female vessels, Cas would do it. He told himself it was worth it for Dean. He just hoped that he could stop wanting more, or maybe one day Dean might stop pretending that he wasn't really sleeping with Cas every time.

i don’t even have anything to add tbh if that summary did not immediately make you click we are very different this fic is incredible. god. fellas do you ever make yourself a woman so you can fuck the man you love without him having to talk about it or confront his sexuality

it’s such a mystery (the way you know me) by fleeceframe (20k)

So the man crouching in front of Castiel is named Dean. He wonders if that’s supposed to mean something to him.

“Cas must’ve got hit with something earlier. He just dropped like a sack of fucking potatoes a minute ago. By the time I was checking on him, he had already woken up again, but now he doesn’t fucking know who we are.”

“I’m right here you know,” Castiel says testily.

Sam’s eyes are wide even as his eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks between Dean and Castiel again.

“What do you remember, Cas?”

“Firstly, that I’m not Cas. I don’t know who Cas is, but it’s not me. I don’t know who either of you are, either."

or the one where castiel is hit with a memory curse that makes him forget the winchester brothers and is stunned to find out he has a family... also why can't he stop thinking about dean?

BEST amnesia fic oh my god. cas my beloved you deserve the world. everyone read this that is not a request.

More Than Ever by Sass_Master (20k)

Dean’s getting some pancakes together for breakfast when Cas saunters in after a run.

He’s trying to focus on whisking batter, unfairly distracted by Cas a few feet away, breathing heavily and shining with perspiration. Dean’s been painfully aware for a long time that Cas is pretty easy on the eyes, but he’s used to seeing Cas buttoned-up and unflappable, looking straight-laced in a stiff oxford and an unflattering trenchcoat.

Now Cas is sweating, Dean’s borrowed t-shirt clinging to his skin, flushed from exertion and Dean really can’t deal with that in his kitchen right now.

this entire series is really good i enjoyed it a lot, i’m just putting this one specifically on the list bc the rest of the series is very explicit and this is really good as a standalone for anyone who wouldn’t be into the rest of the series!!

Being Dean Winchester by Anonymous (20k)

"You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in."

Who the fuck was this bitchy "warrior of God" doing talking to him like that? Fuck Cas-tee-el and his dumbass trench coat and abrasive motherfucking attitude.

Dean was done with this shit.

***

Wherein a monster of the week steals the essence of Castiel's vessel, so he must use Dean, recently raised from hell, as a vessel instead.

it is at this point i realize that there are more fics than i expected there to be on this list that involves a threesome with only two people/using the presence of a female body to act like what’s happening is heterosexual. deangirlism is a disease 

I Shall Not Want by domesticadventures (20k)

His grace is burning out, and the wasteland it leaves inside him becomes an echo chamber for all the memories, all the fear and doubt and self-loathing he's collected over the years. Things said and done hound him on endless repeat until he's convinced they’ll break through his skin and fill the silence of the bunker.

His head is killing him, and he sits hunched over an open book, not really reading, just digging his fingers into his skull and praying nothing slips through the cracks.

this one is GORGEOUS i love it so so much. dean and cas are both struggling so much to get by and they’re trying to support each other but fucking it up and they have to grow together and learn to cope with the fact that this is where their lives are and they fall in love i need everyone to read this

To Boldly Go by 8daysuntiltheapocalypseiguess (24k)

Title: Just One of Those Things Author: Impala67 Series: TOS Rating: M Summary: Four years into their five-year mission, and all the planets start to look the same.

In which Dean is not Gene Roddenberry, but he does write Star Trek fanfiction.

mx winchester writing star trek fanfiction to process his own trauma <3 this is a wip but it’s SO good and i also have not consumed a single piece of star trek media so it IS definitely readable to anyone who isn’t a star trek fan. please read this

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo (30k)

“Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.”

this is on here just for the 1.5 people who were putting off this one like i did for no reason. it’s extremely good and it is just gentle. i enjoyed it a lot

Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord (42k)

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

yall ever wonder what it would’ve been like if the sam and dean arrest storyline in s12 was interesting? yeah <3

Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara (52k)

In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean.

(A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)

cas learning about humanity through poetry before dean and thats what led to him developing enough emotion to be lobotomized....cas i love you so much

Emergence by ellispark (58k)

Something’s been missing from Dean’s life for the past three years, a void left after a hunt gone terribly wrong. He often feels a sense of longing with no discernible cause, a need to talk to someone who isn’t there.

A call from an acquaintance leads Dean to James Novak, a man who disappeared more than a decade ago, and suddenly Dean gets the feeling he’s found what he’s been missing. But James isn’t really James — he’s the angel Castiel, who’s wanted by angels, demons and hunters alike. And he may be at the center of the storm that wrecked Dean’s life all those years ago.

another cool amnesia fic!! for unknown reasons everyone forgot cas three years ago but cas didn’t forget anything. cas deserves so much love and support. god

a turn of the earth by microcomets (95k)

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Frigging fantastic.

(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

cas getting to meet and fall in love with pre hell dean just as much as he loves the dean he already knows oh my GOD. i love this fic so much. turn of the earth my beloved

Crossing Lines by sometimeswelose (122k)

Two Deans, one Cas - it's not as sexy as it sounds

Or

An ethics lesson from Hell

Or

The one where Dean from the past meets Dean in the present. They're not sure they like each other very much.

deans intense self hatred vs cas’ unwavering love for every version of dean oh my GOD also this is a wip fair warning but it’s so worth waiting for updates i’m having such a great time with this one i cannot wait to see how it gets ended

Plot Holes by saltyfeathers (160k)

Of course it wasn’t over after the apocalypse.

There was season six. Then there was season seven. Against all expectations, there was season eight. There were the alphas and purgatory, and then the Leviathans, and then the angels fell. Enter season nine. Loose threads Metatron, Abaddon, and Crowley have to be tied up. Sam, Dean, and Cas have to try to tie them while at the same time dealing with their evolving relationships and newfound graceless states.

Amidst all the chaos, someone has started publishing the Supernatural novels again. Convinced there’s something amiss in the pages, Charlie starts her own quest to suss out the truth behind the Winchester Gospels.

With the help of various faces, old and new, they must now not only deal with the typical runs of demons and recently fallen angels, but also reconcile the battles raging inside themselves, as the fate of the world, once again, quite literally lays in the palm of their hands.

saltyfeathers said i WILL make the plot holes in this show mean something because the showrunners are sure as shit never gonna adress them ! and i thank them for it bc this was a really cool read

Casefic/Roadtrip Fic

Deprived Of Every Planet by KelpietheThundergod (9k)

Dean's breathing is audible in the scant space between them, irregular. The motel room is dark, pale blue shadows falling in through the gaps in the blinds. Throwing a pattern of uneven white stripes over the bunched up covers. Over Dean's fingers twisted in the sheets. One half of him in shadow, softened by the dark. The heat of his skin. The tremble of him under Castiel's touch.

He caresses a hand over Dean's chest, slowly. Dean's mouth falls open, his body arching into Castiel's touch. Castiel stops over Dean's heart. Through the fever of his desire, he rejoices about the wonder of experiencing another's heartbeat through one's own senses.

Dean gasps, but then he turns his face away and towards the dark. Eyes closed tight and brows furrowed like something is hurting him.

Castiel stills.

“Dean?”

the case is background on this one but it Does take place over the course of a case so im putting it here. god touchstarved dean trying so hard to work through his shit for cas head in my hands i love this fic so much

before and after breakfast by spocklee (10k)

The monster of the week is a ghost who hates meat, alcohol, and feeling yourself. Guess who it is during the commercials.

chapter 2 of this one.....god. dean and cas you are both so unwell <3 i love everything abt this fic everyone read it now

we shovel all the ashes out by xylodemon (15k)

Dean’s always known things were headed this way. He just figured getting dragged under would be cleaner and easier than jumping in feet-first.

fics that make you go Oh they love each other...also there’s lesbians in it literally what else could you want.

thunder road by dothraki_shieldmaiden (20k)

After Chuck is defeated and the Winchesters settle into life without God, Dean Winchester is bored.

OR: Dean and Cas take a road trip and figure out some stuff along the way.

this fic is just like. it’s kind! this fic is kind it’s just a pleasant experience and i enjoyed it thoroughly. they’re in love and it’s good

Suck It, Judy Garland by GlitterDwarf, midrashic (20k)

It had to be St. Louis. Or, the one where Sam and Cas get fake married for a case, and Dean loses his mind.

actually im gonna defend dean here imagine youre dean and cas gives what definitely sounded like a deathbed love confession while making eye contact with you and then immediately afterwards fake dates your brother. who among us would not have been a bitch about this

best friends without benefits by lizbobjones (20k)

It’s nearing three a.m. and they’ve been on the road a long time. Sam’s been asleep in the back seat since eleven. Giving up and handing the wheel over to Cas and letting the guy who doesn’t sleep drive had seemed like a good idea.

the premise of this fic is so funny. cas voice dean you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid. everyone read this

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo (22k)

This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore.

alt version of getting rid of the mark of cain, the darkness never happens. this one is VERY heavy but it’s so good and it has a hopeful ending. ive read this one twice and loved it both times

Someone Who’s Feeling For Me by ellispark (45k)

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

hello op please contact me. please contact me and let me see the inside of your brain. this fic was an unparalleled experience and everyone should also go through it. i love it so very much

Bumper Cars by mansikka (111k)

Two teenagers are missing from an abandoned carnival, and there’s enough to raise suspicion that their disappearance involves a ghost. Dean, Sam, and Cas arrive in town to investigate, though what they find leads them away from those teenagers, and on the trail of a ghost story that churns up things from their past.

Can newly-human Cas, and Dean, with the help of shipper!Sam, work out the mystery behind the abandoned carnival and its ghost, and along the way, figure out the riddle that is them?

one of my absolute fav case fics it forces dean to confront some aspects of johns parenting and work through some shit and also him and cas fall in love and it’s really well done. love this one a lot <3

Finale Fix-its/Finale Denial

Sorry Jimmy by K_K_TiBal (2.1k)

Based on the tumblr textpost:

jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store

this one is just extremely funny. local midwestern heterosexual man is forced to play relationship counselor to the dumbest gay people in existence because one of them wore his face

Dean Winchester Really Needs To Make Some Gay Friends by AreYouReady (2.2k)

“Like, I’m trying to think if I’ve had, I don’t know, crushes. If I ever had a gay thing before you came along and just didn’t notice,” Dean said.

Cas suddenly looked down, and away from Dean. If Dean didn’t know better, he would swear Cas looked guilty.

“What is it, Cas?”

“You have had several… gay things before.” Cas still wouldn’t look at him.

“What? When? How come you know this better than I do?”

There was no way the answer to this question wasn’t funny as hell.

dean learning about gay ppl via the memories of dean smith...incredible.

tiny difference (between ending and starting to begin) by sunforgrace (2.4k)

Sometimes Dean catches Cas staring at the sky.

It doesn’t happen often. Not when Dean’s around to tell, anyway. But often enough that he starts to notice.

Eventually Dean starts to recognize the pattern.

Cas just doesn’t watch the sky. He watches the birds.

Chuck is gone, Cas is human, and the world is safe. In the quiet aftermath Dean and Castiel find each other again.

i really don’t have much to say abt this one it is just very good and they love each other so much

Bring Home by cenotaphy (3.8k)

Dean's phone doesn't ring on the drive back to the Bunker, but that's okay. Because—well, maybe Cas lost his cell, what with getting shuffled back and forth between a cosmic void dimension and all. And anyway, Dean doesn't want this conversation to happen over the phone, he wants to—he wants to talk to Cas face-to-face. They should talk face-to-face.

Dean will tell him—

Dean doesn't know what he'll tell Cas. Dean is, in fact, terrified by how utterly and completely he does not know what he'll say to Cas.

cas being forced to face the consequences of sending the risky text that was despair <3

dean’s coworkers vs the heteronormative agenda by cowboydeanwinchester (4.1k)

Dean started working at a local auto repair shop in Lebanon, Kansas about a year ago. His coworkers don't know much about him. Except that he has a wife. Or maybe he doesn't. But he has a kid. Who is either a toddler or a high schooler. Who is either named Jack or Sammy. He also might have a best friend named Cas, but that also might be his wife.

Truth is nobody knows what to make of Dean.

obsessed w people not knowing a single fucking thing about dean because he talks so much and never explains anything. this fic is SO funny

Enhanced Extraction Techniques by goldenraeofsun (5.8k)

The Empty takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s, every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven. But in the middle of lecturing Cas in the form of Balthazar, it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

the empty playing mind games on an awake cas bc it can’t put him to sleep is a thing i like a lot and this is very very good 

Speak Silence No More by rea_sunshine (8.1k)

When Dean imagined this moment, it went like this:

Dean bursts into the Empty—guns blazing, chin high, righteous anger coursing through him. No matter what form his plans and fantasies and whiskey-drunk-whispered-promises took, he is always, always successful. When he imagined it, he was finally the hero Cas deserved.

The reality of the moment is this:

It’s fucking cold.

dean and cas STILL managing to not communicate with each other properly after the confession is so funny to me and this fic does it really well. also i like that a human being in the empty, where humans do NOT belong, had some like. consequences

my heart is a compass by lagaudiere (10k)

“There you are,” the Empty says, in Dean’s voice. It’s cold, like Dean’s eyes are cold, his expression set in contempt. It’s the expression Cas feared, he realizes, all the times he thought about saying it. Revulsion. It makes him feel sick in the way that goes beyond physical, here where there is nothing physical left.

The moment before it happened had been so sweet it covered up all the hurt. For years, Cas had been holding back those words, biting down on his tongue to keep from saying them. And now he had said it, and he knew that it was good, knew that it was worth it. But on the other side there is only this.

--

In the Empty, Cas dreams of his regrets, until someone comes looking for him.

one of thee best dean rescues cas from the empty fics out there i love the way his memories are written i love how many of them were ones that this fic came up with to give me new things to have brainworms over instead of just making me more fixated on He Watched Him Rake Leaves than i already am

killing time by orestespdf (11k)

It's been four years since Dean saved Cas from the Empty and confessed his feelings in return, and in their Vermont lakehouse, the retired couple is now learning how to heal. One morning, Dean gives Cas a haircut.

(A character study of Castiel.)

perfect fic perfect fic no notes no complaints they love each other so much and now dean is giving cas a haircut and they’re spending the day together. god.

and every time we kiss, i swear i can fly by knameless (14k)

Every time, Dean tells himself it’s the last.

--

aka, twelve times dean and cas kiss.

a just boy best friends kiss for every season <3 mwah

for which no words exist by MediaWhore (14k)

'a prayer for which no words exist' // richard siken

"Dear Cas who art in my bathtub, give me the strength to be honest about how I feel. For your sake and for mine. Forgive me all the times I wasn’t in the past, all the words I should have said but didn’t. And please stay. Please stay with me when all is said and done. Amen. "

Dean rescues a newly human Cas from the Empty. That's the easy step.

mediawhore i am in LOVE with you oh my god this fic. this fic. dean taking care of cas after rescuing him dean wrapping cas in a blanket oh my GOD

swimming with the fish pond fish by februyuri (17k)

Some time between Dean bleeding out on a makeshift hook in a barn in Ohio and Sam making marshmallows on his funeral pyre, Dean was brought back to life. By Castiel. Again. Dean agreed to it if only to give Jack time to work out the glitches up top. So, now Dean’s back in the land of the living and things are ... actually good, for once.

Or, as good as they can be when demons are attacking Earth, Dean’s failing to get over why he died in the first place, and Cas is suddenly, inexplicably taking every opportunity to casually tell Dean that he loves him.

this is a wip! but it is so good and so worth the read i love it a lot and am very excited for the last chapter. it IS pretty heavy though dean has a LOT to work through

looking like a true survivor (feeling like a little kid) by courfeyrac (20k)

"Jack’s a clever kid—has been ever since he was born, maybe even before that—but Dean’s pretty sure he hasn’t figured out where they’re going yet. And Dean’s… Dean’s excited about it. He remembers planning surprises for Sammy when they were little—saving up quarters and sneaking off to the arcade the year he turned seven, or slipping a book Dean had seen Sammy admiring into his jacket before sprinting out of the store the year he turned twelve. There was only so much Dean could give him back then, hindered by lack of finances and transportation and a father who paid attention. Now, though, Dean’s got a wallet full of cash, a tank full of gas, and the freedom to give his kid the kind of birthday he deserves."

Or, it's Jack's fourth birthday, and the kid wants to go to Build-A-Bear.

EVERYONE READ THIS RIGHT NOW. that is not a request this fic undid me. oh my god. oh my god. they’re a family and they’re going to build a bear and they love each other. oh my god. also no it isn’t a baby jack fic he is 4 and he is also alcal

what’s missing is found (our souls can exhale now) by sobsicles (27k)

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

~~~

"But have you ever just met someone and maybe it wasn't from the first moment, maybe it was after all these other moments that meant more than you ever expected them to, and it seems like your soul just—just—" Kaia makes a helpless gesture with her hands, pushing out, and she breathes out loudly. "Like it can finally exhale. And that person isn't guaranteed to make you happy, but they're—they're important. You just know it, you can't even escape it, you can't let them go. Ever met someone like that, Dean?"

"I—" Dean halts, his mouth hanging open. He's looking at Kaia, who's looking at him, and his heart is fluttering in his throat like a caged bird aching to soar again. His mind threatens to spiral out of control, but he focuses, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Um. I—yeah, I have."

deancas AND dreamhunter we love to see it also dean DOES smoke weed with kaia and apologizes for pulling a gun on her what more could you want in a fic

Command Me To Be Well by prospopeya (28k)

Dean did a lot of thinking about when and how he would get Cas back. Months of it, actually, stretching into a year, because while Sam and Eileen were settling into their new lives, Dean was stuck. He was stuck in a faraway corner of the bunker, dark and empty and hollow, ringing with the sound of a vibrating phone.

So when he falls to his knees in that same room, exhausted, hurting, breathless, and he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to see Cas, he realizes that he doesn't have a single clue about what to do now. Getting Cas out had been easy--actually, it'd been the opposite of that--but the planning of it, the methodical desperation of one attempt after the other had been a familiar rhythm. It'd been soothing almost, solid, something to focus on that wasn't Cas's eyes, watery and jubilant in a way Dean hadn't ever seen that up close on anyone, let alone Cas.

And now Cas is pulling him to his feet, and Dean's stumbling, and he instinctually grabs Cas's arm, and his hand lights up with a fire that he isn't prepared for.

"Hello, Dean."

oh post despair lack of communication....oh dean refusing to work through his feelings...this fic is incredible i love it everyone who enjoys dean doing everything in his power to avoid talking about feelings up to and including having sex with the guy who’s in love with him multiple times should read this

break the skin (to break the barriers) by sobsicles (29k)

The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment.

SOBSICLES TATTOO FIC MY BELOVED. dean grieving and getting tattoos and it turns into tattoo therapy. im SO in love with mitzi it’s insane. requires some suspension of disbelief for how long a tattoo takes but it’s an incredible fic and an unparalleled experience. sobsicles does not miss

ascend by quiettewandering (53k)

Something in the world is wrong.

Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.

But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.

Or can it?

SUPER cool concept i liked this a lot i’m pretty sure everyone’s read it already but just in case someone hasn’t you absolutely should

oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith by sobsicles (62k)

Getting used to Heaven is something of a marvel. It ain't perfect, and Dean thinks he'd hate it if it was, which is probably why it isn't.

~~~

"You don't understand," Dean whispers, exhaling shakily. "I know you don't, because even I don't. The instant you were gone, I wanted you back. Cas, I wanted you back. I wanted—I wanted—"

Cas stares at him, searching his face. After a moment, his own face falls slack, eyes widening just so. "Oh," he breathes out.

Dean wants to be furious that Cas has figured it out before he has—whatever it is—but he's not even that surprised. Cas knows him too well, always has, even more than Dean knows himself. He's been kicking Dean in the goddamn teeth with how deeply he understands him, even about the things Dean doesn't, ever since they first met. You don't think you deserve to be saved, that's what Cas had said. All bundled up in impossibilities and power, this being that looked at Dean Winchester and knew every single inch of him, as if he had a right to each part.

"What?" Dean grits out.

"I love you, too."

the ONLY heaven fic. i do not read heaven fics bc i refuse to budge in my finale denialism i refuse to read fic where it is accepted that dean dies. i was hesitant to read this but god im glad i did it was so good. literally the best possible outcome of dean dying

Endverse

final fantasy. by orange_crushed (1.9k)

“If I’d actually been born human, would I have gotten sick like everyone else? Would I be running around gnawing on the neighbors?” Castiel tilts his head up and even from here Dean can see the black ring of his pupils, wide and dark as dead stars. He’s high as fuck and he’s been loading the guns for forty-five minutes. He stares into the space where Dean is. He smiles and shows his teeth. “Maybe you’d have already put a bullet in my head.”

"This is why you don’t lead storytime anymore," Dean says. "This kind of shit."

endverse last night on earth fics are something that can be so personal actually. god

The Last Song by Moorishflower (3.5k)

The very last song is the Song of Solomon, and Castiel sings it only for Dean. Set in "The End."

this is like. pre endverse and the tone is so like. wistful? is the best word ive got? it’s gorgeous i love it but fair warning there is graphic description of like. viscera and infected wounds

to think that we could stay the same by cipherwriter (6.5k)

cas has all he needs; himself, his creation, and enough power to continue this cycle for a long time. he's fine. dean wants to take care of him anyway.

oh my GOD this one is good it’s based off the thing of how originally endverse cas was supposed to be just sitting in a room killing and resurrecting the same cockroach over and over. very bittersweet at some points i love it a lot, do not read it if youre looking for something happy though lmao

the first church at the end of the world by withbloodstainedclothingon (11k)

The angels don’t eat the brain. Only Croats do that.

this one is fucked but it’s incredible it contains very heavy and violent subject matter and cas is an Actual cult leader he doesn’t just have orgies it is SO well done and i had a great time reading it i recommend it very highly if the warnings sound like something you can stomach

Down to Agincourt by seperis (1.1 million. i know. yes it’s a wip)

There is no such thing as a guarantee when it comes to war.

The outcome's known. Why try? Return your rusty sword to battered sheath, bow your head and bend your stubborn knee. Why take the field when you cannot win the war? But Harry -- he went down to Agincourt.

PLEASE. i know the length is intimidating i KNOW it’s a very long fic but please. please read down to agincourt i am begging you. head in my HANDS this series is incredible.

Non Supernatural AUS

Long-Term Relationship by bendingsignpost (2.7k)

Castiel says, budging over to make room for Dean on the couch, “I thought we should have a serious talk about our relationship.”

Reflexively, Dean laughs.

Castiel does not.

“Uh, Cas... you know we’re not dating, right?”

look man it’s bendingsignpost okay. it’s bendingsignpost it’s good and it’s sweet and you should read it

One White Lie by komodobits (11k)

Castiel takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell. He doesn’t need to run through what he’s going to say – he’s already planned and edited and rehearsed it a thousand times. He is going to ask Dean Winchester out to dinner. If it’s not too forward, he’ll say, perfectly charming. You see, I’ve seen you around the neighbourhood and you always seem so earnest and I’d really like to get to know you bette— The door swings open, and Castiel panics.

He intends to excuse himself. He means to apologise and come back some other time. However, in a moment of blind fear, what comes out of his mouth instead are the words, “Could you spare a moment for Jesus Christ?”

do you ever pretend to be a jehovahs witness for months to hang out with the guy you like because you fucked up asking him out? yeah.

separate ways and sleeping dogs by sobsicles (53k)

Dean is three years sober when Cas comes back into town.

~~~

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Dean, once again, has to swallow the urge to offer to swallow something else. It's very hard to resist the gut-wrenching pull of want that hooks in his chest whenever he looks at Cas. And to think, he used to have him, used to be able to act on that want.

God, he's so fucking stupid.

Well, there's no point in kicking himself three years later for shit he can't change. He'll just sit right here and pretend that his fingers aren't twitching with the urge to reach out and touch. He can't do that anymore, and it's his own damn fault.

"Three years ago," Cas prompts.

Dean huffs a weak laugh. "Yeah. Eventful."

this fic hit me SO hard emotionally oh my god. don’t have much to say bc most of my thoughts on this fic are very personal but my god read this please

Everyone’s a Critic by Englandwouldfall (109k)

The one where uninspired chef Dean Winchester has a one night stand with the male (!) food critic who described the flavour of his garlic bread as 'closeted' and accidentally ends up dating him to try and prove that he's a kick ass chef, thank you very much.

(He may have a point about the 'closeted' thing).

this one is SO fun. dating the food critic who called your garlic bread closeted and lying about your career because you’re embarrassed and you want to redeem your food in his eyes but then you fall in love with him

Non Destiel Centric

gender? you mean that thing i have that pisses people off? by bigender dean winchester (homosexualitie) (946 words)

sam and dean paint each other's nails and dean abuses the technicalities of her gender. what more could you want? 

HELLO HE/SHE DEAN COMMUNITY oh my god the pure rush of euphoria reading this. oh my god. oh my god. 

the quiet road to a distant city by rottingbrains (1.2k)

Sam stares out the windshield again. They’re approaching a city, and she can see the lights in the distance. She’s past the danger zone, and she feels like the world around her reflects that in some way she can’t put into words- as if God is telling her that it’s okay. She did the right thing, and soon she will be past the lonely unknown and into the warm, forgiving light of acceptance. Or something. Come to think of it, the lights only look warm from far away, and she knows that the actual city will seem far less welcoming. Still. Best not to imagine the worst when it’s already going well.

required reading for transfem lesbian sam fans. fics that live in your ribcage to make your heart feel good

Four People Ruby Seduced & One She Actually Fell For (Or: Ruby's Epic Love Affair with Humanity in General and Sam in Specific) by tuesday (3.7k)

In which Ruby has a lot of sex, is not any kind of therapist that would be legal, and helps a few people out for her own reasons. (S4/S5 AU)

for everyone out there who enjoys ruby being a girlboss <3

Fractured Link by Trell (orphan_account) (5.5k)

Meg goes on, resolute despite the way Dean flinches, "He likes me. He likes me a lot, and I like him back, and that's probably good enough for both of us. But fuck me for saying so, Dean-o, he loves you, probably more than anything else on his daddy's green Earth, and you need to man up and give back what Clarence over there has been devoting to you for years."

this is meg/dean/cas which is not smth i really seek out but this was extremely good. set in s7 so it’s meg and dean and honey cas and it’s a lot of dean figuring his shit out and trying to forgive cas and i love meg a lot in this

[duuhrayliegh]

Hello, darling! I was wondering if you could right some Bucky x reader, where the reader worked along Sharon during Civil War and she meets Bucky. Then she runs always with Sharon and meets Bucky again in Madripoor and continue their story. I hope that makes sense. Thank yooouuuu✨✨✨

hey babes!! yes i absolutely can! i kind of gave more background than i meant to making it way longer, but i hope you enjoy it anyway! i do want to continue this story and most definitely will be so be on the lookout for the other parts of it lovie <3. i hope you still enjoy it even though it isn’t quite what you asked for yet :)

A Friend of Yours

FATWS SPOILERS

warnings: not much, canon lvl violence, some suggestive stuff closer towards to end, language, i think that’s it

word count: 6140 i went a bit overboard, it’s fine i’m totally fine

a/n: i got this request and then didn’t stop writing all day. i didn’t get anything else done all day. i got home at like seven-ish? and i’ve been sitting on the floor of my bedroom just writing this fic (for context it is now 12:47 pm where i’m at)

check out A Friend of Yours - pt. 2 and A Friend of Yours - pt. 3

p.s.: this is the first fic that i’m writing with an actual ‘x reader’ i’m so proud

xoxo ray

ray’s m.list

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

You grew up with Sharon, the two of you were best friends from birth it seemed. Honestly, Peggy raised you more than your own parents did. When Aunt Peggy got Sharon her first thigh holster, she got you one too. You enlisted together, moved up the ranks together, everything. So, it was of no shock to anyone that after the fall of SHIELD, you both moved together into the CIA’s Joint Terrorism Task Force.

You were inside the hotel with Sharon, Steve and Sam when the bombing on the UN took place. The look of unbridled fear that fell over Steve’s face as they announced Barnes as the primary suspect was heart wrenching. You weren’t able to watch it for long because your phone was already ringing off the hook.

“Look, you need to get me more information, and now.” You gritted into your phone speaker before quickly hanging up the phone and turning to a crestfallen Steve who was still watching the news casting. Sharon ended her phone call and turned to you.

“We have to go to work.” A few short hours on a jet later, you and Sharon were coordinating the operation. Close by, Steve and Sam were awaiting new information. Steve had this insane plan to find Barnes before the whole rest of the world did. Like that’s going to happen, it took the world 70 years to find Barnes. Of course, Steve and Sam are going to find him in about half that time.

You followed the blonde woman into a busy coffee shop and up to the counter. She slid a manila folder over to a well disguised Captain America. “Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everyone thinks the Winter Soldier goes to their gym. Most of it’s just noise, except this.” Sharon was talking quietly, trying to not draw attention to the fact that she was committing a serious offense.

“We have to give the briefing, like now Shar, so we have to go.” The two of you pushed off the counter and you turned quickly to say one last thing. “And you better hurry. They’ve given the order to shoot on site.”

You left the shop quickly and made your way back to the white tent, passing the redheaded spy who was watching you like a hawk. A look of understanding crossed her features as you kept a calm facade. She fucking knows, how the hell could she read you that easily?

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

The next time you saw any of them, they were exiting the back of an armored prison van. It was no surprise that his eyes flitted over to his best friend from childhood. You glanced over at Barnes, who was strapped in all different ways, and your heart hurt for him. You tried not to pity him, you know you would’ve gotten a slap on the wrist from Aunt Peggy about it.

Bucky must’ve felt you looking at him because his steel blue eyes locked with your pair. This was the first time that you’ve ever actually seen the man in person. It was startling, in a good way. You grew up going to the Smithsonian and hearing Aunt Peggy’s stories about the great James Buchanan Barnes. You never thought that you’d get the chance to meet the man you did a history report on your freshman year of high school.

“Y/N?” Sharon’s voice cut through your thoughts, recalling you to reality and out of your past. “We have to go. We’ve been assigned to monitor Steve and Sam while they’re here.” Sharon was clearly not a fan of this, which made you laugh loudly.

“Oh, score! We get to babysit Captain America and the Falcon!” You spoke in an unnecessarily upbeat voice and then clapped your hands together. “Our dream job! Let’s go, Shar!” She stared at you for a millisecond before slapping a hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s go, you fucking dork.” You followed her through the office building into the control room where you observed Tony talking to Steve. Apparently, the conversation was not going well because both their faces held angry glares. Eventually, Tony left the room, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts and that can never be good.

“How you doing, Cap?” You asked as you less-than-gracefully plopped yourself into the chair across from him. He looked over at me and released a heavy sigh.

“Honestly, Y/N, not that great at the moment.” He looked at you with his iconic mom Steve stare. Wow, so that’s what it’s like to be on the receiving end of that. Sam walked in and sat next to you. You drowned out their conversation as your gaze focused on screens outside of the glass office.

The video feed of Barnes in his metal cage was displayed on a TV screen. How is this considered humane? Obviously you knew that the CIA had pushed boundaries in the past, but this was just insane. “Are those restraints really necessary?” Sam seemed to be just voicing his thoughts, not expecting a response back.

“Well, he is considered an international terrorist, so yeah, they’re kind of necessary.” You said quickly and then muttered under your breath, “No matter who thinks that it’s excessive.” Steve’s gaze met yours and he was about to speak when Sharon walked in and dropped a paper in front of Sam.

“The receipt for your gear.” A scoff sounded from Sam as he glared at Sharon.

“‘Bird costume’? Come on.” Always quick to defend your best friend.

“Hey, we didn’t write it up.” It came off snappier than you had meant it. Sharon shot you a look, signaling you to back off. You raised a brow at her as she leaned over the table to the intercom buttons.

The audio from Barnes’ evaluation echoed through the glass room. Everyone around you was unsuspecting the four of you listened in. The psychologist was talking to Barnes, who seemed incredibly closed off. Who could blame the guy though?

“I’m not here to judge you. I just want to ask a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?” The psychologist paused for a second, looking down and off to the side. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, James.” The caged man spoke for the first time.

“My name is Bucky.” His voice was rough from not being used. A look crossed Steve’s face and he turned to Sharon.

“Why would the Task Force release that photo to begin with?” Sharon’s body turned to face the man speaking to her. Her brows furrowed while she answered.

“Get the word out, involve as many eyes as we can?” Your head tilted, trying to follow Steve’s train of thought.

“Right. Good way to flush a guy out of hiding. Set off a bomb, get your picture taken. Get seven billion people looking for the Winter Soldier.” Oh shit.

“You’re saying someone framed him?” You wanted to believe it with every fiber in your being.

“Steve, we looked for the guy for two years and found nothing.” Sam reminded in a calm tone.

“Yeah, you didn’t bomb the UN though. That turns quite a few heads. Especially if prominent people like King T’Chaka end up dead because of it.” You made a good point, but there were still pieces missing.

“That doesn’t guarantee that they would find him. It guaranteed that we would.” Sharon and Steve began examining the room around them. Your attention returned to the audio emitting from the intercom.

“You fear that,“ the doctor paused, “if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. Don’t worry.” He glanced down again and moved his hand to swipe something away.

“Guys?” You pointed to the screen as the doctor held up his pointer finger.

“We only have to talk about one.” All of the sudden, the screens went dark and the lights flickered off. Secretary Ross was yelling at technicians to get his video back. Tony was speaking to his AI, Friday, about locating the source of the outage. Steve and Sam tensed at the thought of what could be going on with Barnes.

“Sub-level five, east wing.” was all Sharon said as the pair ran off. You looked at her and threw your hands in the air.

“What the hell do we do now, Shar?” She glared at you as she started reasoning with you.

“They’re stronger than we are. If they can contain whatever the hell is happening down there then great. In the event that they can’t, we’ll be up here with Natasha and Tony to deal with it.” You nodded quickly as you both ran out of the room.

You quickly followed Natasha, Tony and Sharon to the main level of the building. Clearly Steve and Sam were unsuccessful in containing the situation because Barnes could be seen through the glass, fighting his way to his destination.

Tony stunned Barnes with a previously concealed Iron Man glove. Barnes started towards Tony and quickly attacked. After Barnes bested Tony, it wasn’t long before Natasha rushed the man alongside Sharon. It wasn’t hard for Barnes to throw Sharon across the room. Natasha took the opportunity to launch herself onto his shoulders, which caused Barnes to slam her into a table with his metal hand wrapped around her neck.

She mumbled something to him as you kicked his ribs, releasing his chokehold on her. He stumbled backwards, his hard gaze landed on yours as he approached. Your eyes locked on his as the two of you traded blows.

They weren’t the same eyes as before. Those eyes were soft and remorseful, these were hard and unattached. There was no emotion behind the pair staring at you. The fraction of a second that you were analyzing his eyes in your head was enough for him to catch you off guard. His metal fist landed in your rib cage. The opposite hand jabbed at your face, busting your lip and sending you flying backwards.

You hit your head on the concrete below, making your eyes roll back. The wind left your lungs and you gasped to get it back as Barnes and T’Challa fought in the background. It was a few minutes later that a concerned Sharon made her way over to you.

“Are you okay?” You looked her over as she did you, checking for any severe injuries. You offered a small nod, not wanting to shake your head too much in fear of a concussion. “Let’s go check in with Ross.”

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

“And how the hell did Rogers and Wilson even know where to find Barnes?” Ross’ voice boomed through the office. No one said anything, not wanting to incur the wrath of Secretary Ross. “I’ve already allowed Stark 36 hours to find them and bring them back here.” Ross turned to you and Sharon standing in the corner of the room. “If they contact any of you, report it immediately.” Rounds of ‘yes, sirs’ bounced around the room, then chaos ensued as everyone got back to trying to clean up this mess.

“Carter. Y/L/N. Elevator now.” He raised two fingers to point toward the elevators before walking into one. It was just the three of you in the enclosed space. He clicked the button for the ground floor. “I know you have some kind of connection to Rogers but do not let that cloud your judgement. The both of you are CIA agents first.”

“We understand, Secretary.” The elevator doors opened again and you went to step out when Ross stopped you again.

“I mean it, girls. This is your job on the line here.” You and Sharon shared a look before continuing walking. Did he just call us girls?

“Do you think that was supposed to be intimidating?” You laughed under your breath as you went out to the parking lot. Sharon sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

“Probably.” She looked at you over the top of her car. “You don’t have to come with me.”

“Where do we start?”

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

Getting that fucking shield and bird suit wasn’t easy. They had moved it from the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre to the US Embassy to await transport back to the States. It made it easier but still damn near impossible to get. Thankfully, you and Sharon are good liars. Skills of a misspent youth.

The two of you walked in the front door and displayed your badges. “We’re here to pick up Captain America and the Falcon’s effects.” The man behind the counter didn’t even question it. Man, they need better people at the Embassy.

“You’ll have to sign some paperwork saying you picked it up.” There it is. You both flicked a brow and Sharon held her hand out for the clipboard. Small scratches from the pen in her hand were echoing throughout the empty building.

She handed the clipboard back to the man behind the counter. “Okie dokie, just pull your car around to the side of the building and we’ll get you loaded up.” He shot them a small smile and turned around to file the papers.

“That was easy enough.” You whispered to Sharon as you left, not wanting your voice to carry. You walked to your car that was parked in front of the iron wrought gate. Pulling your car around to the side of the building, you popped the trunk. The gear clad Embassy soldier carelessly tossed Sam’s suit inside before gently placing the shield on top of it.

“Hey, if there’s a scratch on that suit, it’s coming out of your paycheck buddy.” You held your pointer finger up to the man’s unimpressed face.

“Y/N, let’s go. We’ve got to get these to the jet or Ross will have our heads. Remember it’s our job on the line here.” What Sharon said made you laugh big while hauling yourself back into the driver’s seat of the car. As you pulled out into the street, Sharon was typing away on her phone and pushing it to her ear.

“This is a secure line but I don’t know for how long, so don’t talk just listen.” She took a deep breath and then continued. “We want to help. Meet us under the bridge on Route 6. We’ll be there in two hours.” She ended the call quickly and threw the phone outside the car. Glancing over at you, she nodded and sighed again.

“We’ve gotten this far.” You had one question burning in your throat that you were afraid to ask.

“Where do we go after they’ve gone?” She looked at you and she was biting her lip, something she only did when she was incredibly stressed.

“I don’t know yet. Do you have any ideas?” You smiled and thought of the one place that you wouldn’t be followed.

“Yeah, I’ve got one, but it’s rough.”

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

The drive to the underpass wasn’t a hard one. You had beat the boys there so you and Sharon were sitting in the car. You had the radio playing softly in the background.

“Who the hell do you know in Madripoor?” You laughed and shrugged.

“I’m supposed to tell you all my secrets for free?” You shook your head and shifted in your seat to face her fully. “I was tasked with tracking some artwork down there. One of my assignments when we went through initiation for the Agency.” You picked at the holes in your jeans. “I thought it was just all fake stuff, but I researched it more and more. Turns out, the underground artwork dealing is really lucrative over there.”

Sharon stared at you in amazement. “What did you do, Y/N?” You smirked.

“I haven’t done anything.” You held her gaze, “Yet.” She released a small laugh and her mouth hung open a bit. “I may have a warehouse out there.” You squinted one of your eyes, and leaned forward. “And the apartment above it.” She was going to say something when an old ass blue Beetle pulled up behind you.

“Now how the fuck did they all fit in that tiny ass car?” You both laughed as you stepped out of the car with big smiles on your faces.

“Not sure you understand the concept of a getaway car.” Steve walked up to Sharon and they began talking as she popped the trunk, revealing their gear. Your attention was on the men in the car behind them. Barnes was stuck in the back away from cameras and Sam was lounging in the passenger seat. Your eyes met Barnes’ again, they were back to the remorseful pair you saw the first time.

“You know he kind of tried to kill us.” You waved your hand in gesture to the man in the car.

“Sorry, I’ll put it on the list too.” He glanced back down at Sharon, who had migrated closer to him. “They’re going to come looking for you.”

She nodded, “I know.” Then the most awkward kiss in all of kissing history took place. Your brows shot up then furrowed quickly, a small wince overtaking your face. They pulled apart and traded more words. Sharon began walking back to the passenger side of the car.

Steve turned around and you looked back at the two men in the car. Both of them were wearing proud, smug grins. Steve threw his head back as if he was berating them.

“About damn time, Cap! She’s been pining over you for God knows how long now.” The windows were down in the Beetle so the other two heard you shouting at their friend.

“Y/N!” Sharon was a bit embarrassed.

“What? It’s the truth, Shar!” The two of you began bickering like an old married couple as you started the car again. Steve got all he needed from the trunk and shut it quickly, slapping it twice. You began driving off with Sharon giving you directions to an airport on the opposite side of the country.

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

That was the last time you saw Steve. Last time you saw anyone for a while. You had been dusted in the Blip. Sharon had followed you to your apartment in Madripoor. The two of you were able to figure the city out pretty quickly. Learning the ins and outs of the island, where to go, who to sell to. One afternoon, you and Sharon had been surveying a Van Gogh piece for your gallery when you flew away. In the middle of a fucking deal, what perfect timing.

Five years later, you were reunited with an even more successful Sharon. “I kept your room the way you left it.” She said as she led you through your shared home. “I figured that you’d be back and you’d be pissed off if I fucked with anything.”

You smiled at the woman gratefully and hugged her. Neither of you let go for a while. When you did, she started filling you in on everything. She had continued to split all her profits and had been depositing the money into your account. “Even if you didn’t come back, I could’ve used it if I needed to bug out. Win-win.” She explained with a smile.

The two of you had about six months of getting back into the groove of things. It was quickly cut off by a ping of your phones one day. A look of confusion and anger crossed her face, “Are you fucking kidding me?” She locked eyes with you and told you to get your gear.

“Where are we going?” She threw her phone at you and you looked at the screen. As soon as you read the notification at the top of it you understood. Repeating your question from before, you tied the knots on your Converse. You followed Sharon to the Low Town side of the island.

“Now what the fuck are they doing here, do you think?” The two of you camped outside of the Brass Monkey nightclub, ready for whatever came your way. Deciding that you were too visible to everyone else, you moved to the building across from the club. Something is bound to go wrong and the first place they're going to get ran to is this dead end alley.

Sure enough, not even ten minutes later, Sam, Barnes, and Zemo got cornered in the alleyway. Sharon had decided to stay on the ground floor next to the door. You shot two of the assassins following the group of three and Sharon took out the final one.

You made your way back down to Sharon, who was still holding her gun up. “You cost me everything.” She focused her gun on Zemo.

“Sharon, wait. Someone recreated the super soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” Sam remarked calmly, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Explains why you guys are here and Selby’s dead.” Your brows shot up at that, must of been new information that she got while you were upstairs.

“Why are you here, Sharon?” Sam questioned.

“She was one of the ones who stole Steve’s shield, remember?” You stepped forward, raising your gun to gesture to the men in front of you. “And the wings, so your ass,” you waved at Sam, “could save his ass,” at Barnes, “from his ass.” You lowered your gun and stepped in front of Zemo, staring the man down. Your fist balled and you launched it at Zemo, landing a solid hit to his cheekbone.

Barnes grabbed your hand, twisting your body to slot against his with your arm bent behind your back. He leaned close to your ear, breath making shivers trickle down your spine. “I only let you do that because I’ve wanted to for a while now, so don’t get any more ideas.” Your breath hitched because of the proximity of the man behind you.

“Alright, give me my Y/N back.” Sharon said, lowering her gun to holster it. Bucky held onto you for a few more seconds than necessary and then pushed you towards Sharon as he released you. You scoffed, then shoved your gun into the waistband of your jeans. Sam and Sharon had already started their own conversation by the time you calmed down enough to face Barnes.

Sharon bobbed her head to you, an unspoken language between the two of you. After bringing them into your home, Sam began admiring the artwork in the first floor gallery. “Looks like breaking the law is treating you two well.”

“Before even graduating into the Agency, I had a place over here. Never had any intention on using it, but here we are.” You started, “Then, after having to flee Berlin, for you,” You shot a look at Bucky, “we figured if we had to hustle, might as well enjoy the good life. Do you know how much we can get for a real Monet?”

“Deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monet’s.” Sharon shot him a look, about to defend us when Zemo cut in.

“No. She means real. This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. All the classics.” Sam made a face of disbelief.

“It’s true. You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this.” Bucky gestured to the gallery. Sam pulled his phone out of his suit pocket.

“Okay, guys, I see what you’re doing. You’re more worldly than good old Sam.” He was typing furiously as he spoke. Bucky passed him, soundlessly following you and Sharon to the upstairs apartment.

“Yeah. What’s Google say?” Once the five of you got upstairs, Sharon began walking them into her office, telling them that they needed to change because we were hosting clients. It didn’t take long for the men to switch outfits. It was refreshing to see Barnes in something other than combat gear or a torn Henley. Sharon followed you in the office, making a remark at Sam while he apologised.

“Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right? The way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it’s all hypocrisy.” She said as you plopped yourself on one of the plush chairs across from the couch, holding a clear glass full of whiskey.

“He knows. And not so deep down.” Zemo added quietly, since when is Zemo informed? Sharon glazed over his comment, opting for asking about the new Cap while filling a glass for herself.

“Don’t get me started.” Barnes spoke for the first time since being downstairs. You narrowed your eyes at the man.

“Please. You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit.” You swung your glass to Zemo, “Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap’s best friend.” His gaze darted over to you, nose wrinkling at your comment.

“Do you know who I am?” He tried to be intimidating but it was just funny to you. You were taking a drink to moisten your throat to fire back a witty comeback, when Sharon spoke for you.

“Oh trust me, she knows. She did a report on you freshman year of high school.” You started choking on your drink as Sharon smirked from the couch next to Barnes. His brows raised and a smug smile graced his face.

“She did now?” Clearly he was a different man from the last time you saw him. Meeting his eyes for the fourth time ever, you were surprised with what you saw. There was almost a hunger lingering behind his eyes.

“Most definitely. I don’t even know how many times she went to the Smithsonian to see the exhibit about you.” You glared at Sharon, who continued to talk, unbothered by you. She raised her own glass to her lips, speaking into her cup, muffling her words.  “Honestly, think she developed a little crush.” Barnes’ eyes never left your face, his mind racing.

“Wait, so the entire time you were helping me and Steve, you had a crush on Tin Man?” Sam interjected, wanting to be included in the conversation. You rolled your eyes and gave a subtle nod to Sam. The action wasn’t missed by Bucky.

“Which is why I think it must’ve been really hard for you to ask him of all people for help. They comin’ down real hard on you out there?” You asked Barnes with a smirk and a head tilt towards Zemo. “I know he fucked you up real good, triggering the Soldier, Barnes.”

Sam laughed beside him. “Dude, that’s basically what you told Walker.” Barnes threw a glare at Sam, who had clapped a hand on his metal shoulder. The conversation dissipated after your comment, guess you killed the vibe.

Sam turned to a relaxed Sharon, “We need your help.” Her body tensed, neither one of you was ready to throw yourself back into enemy territory. “I can get your name cleared.” He dangled a huge bargaining chip in front of her face. You knew Sharon was eager to get back to the States. She misses her dad. It was unfair of Sam to use that as a way to gain her favor.

“Haggling with someone’s life like that isn’t okay, Sam.” You said quietly, focusing your gaze on the glass in your hand.

“It’s not like that, Y/N.”

“Yes, it is, Sam.” You said firmly. “You can’t just say something like that. I know you’re an Avenger. That’s great shit, but you need to realize that if you can’t deliver on your word, we go to jail or worse. You know that.”

“I don’t trust charity, Sam.” Sharon said from beside Barnes.

“All right, a deal then. You help us out, and I get your names cleared.” Your nostrils flared and you shook your head. Sharon agreed, blinded by the possibility of seeing her family again. You don’t doubt that she thought through all the outcomes, it just wasn’t the route you would’ve taken.

“We sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, blend in, and enjoy the party.” She got up, exiting the office.

“Try to stay outta trouble, boys.” You said placing your glass on Sharon’s desk as you left. “We’ll see what we can find.”

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

You were standing next to Sharon when the three men joined the party. Leaning over to Sharon, you told her you were going to get a drink from the bar. You pushed your way through the crowd, planting yourself on a stool in front of the countertop. Nodding your head at the bartender, they passed you a bottle of club soda.

“Not drinking tonight?” A raspy voice questioned over your shoulder. You turned to face the owner as you shrugged your shoulders.

“Already had my fill. And technically, I’m supposed to be working, Barnes.” Your eyes met with his again. You couldn’t tell if it was the light in the room or if it was just him, but they were a deeper shade of blue than before. He leaned his weight on his elbow that was resting on the bar top next to you. He was so close you could feel his body heat rolling off him in waves.

His eyes roamed your face, stopping on your lips as he spoke. “You know you can call me Bucky, right?” You made a face, bringing your bottle to your mouth. He watched intently as your lips wrapped around the opening.

“We’ve never had a single conversation before today. And the first time you actually met me, you twisted my arm behind my back because I punched the dickwad standing next to you.” You took another sip and his eyes drifted down to your throat. He watched as it bobbed when you swallowed.

“So, yeah. I’m going to call you Barnes.” You leaned closer, “I’ve never been given permission to call you anything else.” You could tell you struck something. Something that he didn’t even possibly know about. His face heated and he had to clear his throat before speaking.

“Um, okay. Well you can call me Bucky or if you want, James.” Your brow quirked and you pulled back to take him in fully.

“How many people have you let call you that since you got your free will back?” Your tone was serious, but your face held a smile.

“None, doll.” His eyes ran over your face again. “I just want to hear how it’ll sound coming from your mouth.” One of his metal fingers came up to rest on your bottom lip as your smile grew.

“James.” You whispered, just for him. What he was giving you was a privilege, one you were going to revel in. One corner of his mouth tugged upwards.

“Again.” He growled as his finger remained on your lip.

“James.”

“Again.”

“James.” The party around the two of you faded away. In your reality, it was just you and the man in front of you. A peaceful place, where nothing could change what was happening right at that moment.

Of course, reality is a bitch. And you never got what you wanted. Your jaw clenched as soon as your phone pinged. James dropped his hand from your face as he read the text with you.

Found Nagel. Meet us outside and if you find Bucky, tell him too.

You scrunched your nose and bit your lip. James’ hand was quick to pull your lip from your front teeth, before resting there for a second as he studied your face. He stepped back quickly, nodding his head for you to follow him.

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

You don’t know how the hell Sharon managed to find him, but she did. You were in a shipping yard for storage cars. “Madripoor could give New York a run for its money.” Sam said as the five of you weaved your way through the containers.

“With a bounty on your head, the longer you’re in Madripoor, the less likely you’re ever leaving.” She glanced down at her phone in her hand. Nodding toward a red container, “Alright, he’s in there. Container 4621.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out five earpieces.

“We’ll keep watch while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry. We’re on borrowed time.” You said as you watched everyone situate their pieces. Sharon turned around and began walking down an aisle not far from the container Nagel was in. You stopped James before he could go anywhere.

“Hey, be careful.” His eyes met yours and they were back to the normal steel blue. “Don’t forget who you are, James.” Something flashed behind his eyes, but his face showed no change.

“You too, Y/N. Don’t make me come out here and save your ass.” His eyes flicked down quickly and a smile spread quickly. “I mean, not that I would mind.” You rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder, turning and walking down the aisle Sharon did.

“So,” She was leaned against a rusted container with a smug smile. “You and Bucky, huh?” You groaned and stood next to her.

“I don’t know, Shar. Neither one of us should be in a relationship. Especially since we’re both Enemies of the State, well one of us is, the other one was.” You turned your head to look at her. “What do you think about all of this?” She opened her mouth to speak when you both heard something ricochet off a metal wall.

She raised a finger to her mouth and crouched down before pressing that same finger to her earpiece. “Guys, we have company.” She took off down one end of the aisle and you down the opposite, ready to attack from both sides. There were three men walking towards Nagel’s container, you shot a look down to Sharon and she nodded.

She came from the back with a baton, whacking the last guy once in the knees and once in the head, disarming him. When the front man turned to help his comrade, you did the same move to him with your own baton. You both continued trading blows with the men. You had effectively taken out the first man, using his thigh to latch yourself to the third man’s shoulders. Situating yourself to use your body weight to flip him over, definitely knocking him out.

“Every bounty hunter in the city is here. We gotta go now, boys!” You yelled to your earpiece as you watched Sharon fight off another opponent.

It wasn’t until the gunfire started that Sharon said something else into the piece. “Guys, we’re seriously outta time here.” You both split off, out of each other’s view, battling your own demons. You were currently dealing with two of those said demons, when a third approached from behind. Locking you in a chokehold as the other two continued punching your ribs.

One of the hunters was suddenly ripped away from you. Punches were landing and groans were echoing through the alleyways. You threw all your body weight forward, throwing your assailant over your shoulder. Two gunshots rang out and then a third one, which landed a bullet hole between your aggressors eyes. Your head whipped around to face James, whose arm dropped back to his side.

He walked towards you, putting a hand on your back leading you to where Sharon and Sam were standing. Zemo pulled up in a blue convertible car, “Supercharged.” was all he said. Sam pointed his finger at the man in the driver’s seat.

“You’re going back to jail.”

“Do you want to find Karli or not?” James sighed heavily, his shoulder sinking with the action.

“He’s right. We need him. And there’s two of us, and at least twenty of them.” James got in the front seat, leaving the door open for Sam.

“Fine. But if you try that shit again--”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Zemo raised his hands in surrender. Sam turned to Sharon.

“Well, that was one hell of a reunion.” You leaned over the open door to talk to James. He looked at you with a sad face.

“Why don’t you come back to the States with us?” He tilted his head. “We could clearly use your help, doll.” You smiled at that and licked your lips before responding.

“You know we can’t. Not yet anyway.” He placed his finger back on your bottom lip, maintaining eye contact. “This isn’t the last you’ll see of me, James. That I can promise you.” He smiled and dropped his hand back to his lap.

Sam climbed into the seat behind James. “You’re not going to move your seat up, are you?” James smirked before replying.

“No.” You watched as they drove off, desperately wanting to see James again already.

You turned back to Sharon and the two of you began walking back towards High Town. “I think you should go for it.” 

[bibbawrites]

Don’t Mention This To Anyone - Alive!Luke Patterson x Reader (SMUT)

Request: Hi can u do a luke x reader smut with an enemies to lovers storyline? Maybe they’re at a party and they’re playing truth or dare and luke and the reader get dared to play too hot to handle and later on at the party they get drunk and hook up? // can you do rough sex with luke?!! // Can u do a luke x reader enemies to lovers smut? //  Would you make a Luke and Y/N smut and just make it whatever you want but super smutty?

Word Count: 2163 words

Summary: Your best friend Julie invites you and Flynn to come over to hang out with her bandmates, and a game of too hot to handle ends up making you re-evaluate your relationship with Luke Patterson

Warnings: swearing, mention of underage drinking, unprotected sex, choking, praise kink, dirty talk, grinding/groping

A/N: hopefully this makes sense, i’m editing it half asleep lol  i’ve also put together a masterlist which you can find here anyways hope you enjoy :) 

You should have said no when Julie batted her eyes and asked you if you wanted to come hang out with her bandmates after school one Friday night. 

You should have said no when she used alcohol as a bribing tactic to get you to come. 

You should have made up an excuse not to go. 

Don’t get the wrong impression, you loved Alex and Reggie. The two boys had become close friends of yours since the day Julie first introduced them to you and Flynn. 

It was Luke Patterson that you had an issue with. The lead guitarist of Julie and the Phantoms and the lead pain in your ass since the minute you met. 

If you had said no to coming you wouldn’t have been in this situation. 

Staring down at the bottle on the floor after you drunkenly agreed to a game of Too Hot to Handle, watching as the bottle slowly stopped and pointed at the one person you were praying it wouldn’t. 

Luke fucking Patterson. 

“Oh fuck no.” You exclaimed loudly. Luke shook his head. 

“No way. Not doing it.” He said, his tone matching yours. 

“You have to, the bottle chose you.” Reggie grinned. You rolled your eyes. 

“The bottle doesn’t know what it’s doing.” You spat. 

“It’s simple, if you don’t want to do it that bad just give in straight away.” Flynn raised an eyebrow, looking between yourself and Luke. 

“I’m not a quitter, Y/L/N can give up.” Luke said. Your eyes narrowed. 

“What makes you think I’m a quitter Patterson.” You stared at the boy across from you, venom in your eyes. 

“There’s only one way to settle this then.” Julie spoke up after a moment of silence. 

“Play the fucking game.” Alex finished, his head resting on Willie’s shoulder. 

You rolled your eyes, standing up and making your way over to Luke. You knelt down in front of him, glaring at him. 

“I still hate your fucking guts.” You told him. He smirked. 

“The feeling’s mutual princess.” His tone was condescending. 

You placed your hand on his thigh, leaning in and sucking on his neck. He scoffed. 

“Is that all you’ve got Y/L/N?” He teased. 

You pulled away, glaring at him again before moving your hand up his thigh, getting dangerously close to his crotch, your eyes never leaving his. He didn’t even bat an eyelid. 

You held back a scowl, frustrated that Luke was so good at this game. Standing up you sat down in his lap, grinding your ass into his dick. You grabbed his hand and placed it onto one of your boobs, and your friends whistled at the scene. 

Luke fake yawned and this time you couldn’t help but scowl. 

“Are you fucking kidding? Nothing? Maybe Carrie is right and you are in love with Reggie.” You said, and Reggie choked on his drink. 

“Guess you’re not as seductive as you thought, sweetheart.” Luke teased, ignoring the comment about Reggie. You moved again so that you were straddling his hips, and you could feel that his dick was slightly hard in his pants. Motivated by this you started rocking back and forth, trying to ignore the feelings of pleasure shooting through your body. 

“I feel like we shouldn’t be watching this.” Flynn joked, covering Julie’s eyes with one hand and Reggie’s with her other.

“You guys were the ones who wanted this.” You reminded them, stopping and looking Luke in the eyes. You had always known that Luke was an attractive guy, his arrogance often outshining his good looks, but up close he was stunning. You hesitated and he smiled, glancing down at your lips. Your heart started to race and you mentally kicked yourself. 

This was Luke Patterson, the same boy who you had hated ever since Julie had first introduced him to you. 

The boy who was so self centered he couldn’t handle things not being about him.

The boy who you fought with every single time you saw him. 

He lent closer and you froze. Was he going to kiss you? 

“I- I give up.” You stuttered, jumping out of his lap and rushing back to your spot. 

“I knew you’d chicken out.” Luke sung, a smug look on his face. 

You were silent, and Luke’s cocky grin fell, concern flicking through his eyes for a brief moment. 

“Hey Julie, it’s getting late, everyone needs to go home.” Ray said, stepping into the studio and you stood up quickly, rushing to grab your bag as the others stood up slowly. 

“You sure you don’t wanna stay the night Y/N?” Julie asked as you flung your bag onto your back. You nodded.

“Yeah I’m sure, my mum would kill me.” You said, and she nodded understandingly. 

“Can I walk you home?” Luke blurted out, and everyone turned to look at him in shock. He shrugged. 

“What? I may hate her guts but I still don’t want her to be murdered on the way home.” He said, and you could have sworn you saw a slight blush on his cheeks.

“No it’s fine, my house is just around the corner, Alex or Reggie can walk me.” You replied, glancing at your two friends. 

“Yeah I can-” Reggie stopped, noticing the glare that Luke was shooting him. “Actually sorry Y/N, I really have to get home quickly before my parents realise I was gone.” 

“Alex?” You tried. The blond boy shook his head. 

“Sorry babe, Willie and I are heading in the complete opposite direction.” Alex shot you a sympathetic look. You sighed, turning your attention to Luke. 

“Fine, let’s go Patterson.” You said, giving in. 

Luke followed behind you as you left the garage and headed out onto the street, walking in silence for a few minutes before you decided to speak up.

“So what’s your motive?” You asked. Luke frowned.

“My what?” He asked.

“Why are you walking me home? You said yourself you hate my guts.” 

“Can’t I just be a good friend?” He tried. You rolled your eyes.

“We’re not friends.” You reminded him. He shrugged as you turned heading down your street.

“Okay.” He replied simply. You stopped in front of your house, spinning on your heels to look at him.

“So?” You questioned. He hesitated, his normally confident aura gone. He opened his mouth to speak but decided against it, instead taking a step towards you. You looked up, your eyes meeting his, and your heart skipped a beat when you noticed the lust in his eyes.

“Luke.” You muttered quietly, and suddenly your back was pressed against the front wall of your house, his lips on yours.

Your brain short circuited. No one had ever kissed you with that much passion before.

You kissed him back with just as much force, the lust and alcohol clouding your better judgement.

He pulled away to take a breath and you wordlessly grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him towards your front door. You reached into your bag to find your keys, Luke’s lips on your neck sucking hard enough that you were definitely going to have a few marks to cover in the morning. You got the door unlocked and you kicked it open, spinning around to capture Luke’s lips with your own again, kissing him as you dragged him into your house.

“Are your family home?” He questioned breathlessly as he pulled away. You nodded.

“Just mum.” You told him as you lead him up the stairs, him trailing behind you like a lost puppy. “But she doesn’t care if I bring people home to fuck as long as we’re safe.”

You reached your bedroom door and opened it, shoving Luke inside before shutting and locking the door behind you.

He roughly shoved you against the door, lips connecting once more in a passionate kiss full of tongues and roaming hands.

You kicked off your shoes and began to strip down, your lips never once leaving his, and he did he same. You briefly pulled apart for him to remove his shirt, but once it was off his lips were back on yours again.

“Fuck.” He groaned, as your naked bodies pressed against each other.

“Speaking of, can you please?” You teased, pushing off the wall and placing your hands on his shoulders, leading him to your bed.

You gave him a light shove so that he fell backwards, and you climbed on top of him, straddling his waist, almost moaning at the feeling of his hard dick slipping between your folds.

“God Y/L/N.” Luke groaned as you began to move your hips, grinding into his boner.

“Shut up.” You told him.

He flipped you over, pinning you against your bed, his hand coming up to grab at your neck, choking you slightly.

You moaned loudly, not even caring that your mother might hear. She’d know in the morning by the marks littering your body.

“You like that? You like it when I choke you?” Luke questioned, placing a bit more pressure on your neck but not enough to hurt you or constrict your airways. 

“Fuck, yes.” You moaned in response.

“Of course you do, you dirty little whore.” His words made you even wetter, hips bucking up for some kind of contact.

“Patterson please just fuck me.” You groaned. He smirked.

“If you say so.” He sat up, hands running down your sides, before hesitating slightly.

“Do you have...” He paused, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

“Are you clean?” You questioned. He nodded. “Me too. Just fuck me.”

“But what about-” He started.

“I’m on the pill.” You cut him off. “Please Luke.”

He smirked.

“I think you need to beg a bit more.” He teased. 

“Fuck me right now or you’ll be jerking off in the street alone.” You threatened.

“Jesus princess, no need to be so pushy.” He said as he lined up his dick with your hole, pushing in roughly causing you to gasp.

“Fuck.” You exclaimed. He barely gave you time to adjust before he was pounding into you again, causing the both of you to swear loudly.

“Again.” You stuttered out, and he obeyed, slamming into you again.

“That feels so good.” You groaned.

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, repeating his actions to see your reaction.

“Yes you cocky bastard.” You spat, and he grinned.

“Fuck you.” He said.

“Please.” You bit back. He grinned, before beginning to thrust hard, creating a rhythm. His hand went back to your throat again, pressing down causing you to moan loudly.

“Fuck if you keep this up I won’t last.” You groaned. He bit his lip as he continued to pound into you.

“Me neither.” He admitted. He sped up his pace, the room filled with the sounds of slapping skin and your breathless moans.

“Fuck, I’m close.” He said, and you felt the familiar feeling pooling in your stomach.

“Me too.” You said. He glanced at you, seemingly hesitant to say something.

“What?” You questioned.

He bit his lip.

“Could you... tell me that I’m doing good?” He questioned, somewhat shyly.

“You have a praise kink?” You asked.

“Maybe...” He replied quietly.

“God Luke this feels so good. You feel so good.” You moaned, smirking at his reaction.

“Okay yes, I have a praise kink.” He admitted, squeezing your throat slightly as a warning not to tease him. You gasped.

“Yes Luke. So good.” You praised, and he moaned slightly.

“I’m gonna cum.” He said between moans.

“Ugh yes, fill me with your hot cum like the good boy you are.” You moaned, and he came undone, hips stuttering as he came inside you. The feeling of his cum coating your insides was enough to set you off too, your walls clenching around him as you came hard.

“I hate you.” You moaned.

“I hate you more.” He replied breathily.

You rode out your highs together and he pulled out, flopping down next to you.

“Mind if I stay the night?” He asked softly. You hesitated.

“No, I don’t mind.” You eventually decided. You turned your head to look at the boy next to you, his hair stuck to his head with sweat, and you suddenly realised that maybe you didn’t hate Luke Patterson as much as you thought you did.

You forced yourself to get up and clean off in the bathroom before climbing back into bed still naked with Luke.

He snuggled into your side and you pressed a soft kiss to his head, an oddly intimate gesture to someone you had claimed to hate up until an hour or so ago.

“Goodnight Y/N.” Luke whispered softly, his voice full of sleep.

“Goodnight Luke.” You replied, and with that the two of you drifted off to sleep, until the next morning when a shout woke you from your slumber.

“Oh my god did you two fuck?” Alex’s voice startled you, and you groaned, pulling the covers up over your head.

You were never going to live this one down.

[invinciblerodent]

I know this is very specific to myself, but it kind of tickles me how all of my PCs i've been actively playing make a very nice little party by themselves. Like it would be super boring to do so, but it would make sense to play them as a party (with three custom hirelings), and they'd be very much a viable set, for like an honor run down the line or something.

Ray would of course be the leader- he's a fighter/barbarian build, a genuine frontline hero, and a formidable, veteran warrior in-fiction. I mean fuck, he's the Inquisitor, he became a living legend at 24, and the only reason few remember it is that that was 30 years ago. He's very skilled and reliable, mostly chaotic good, and a good tactician to boot. He has the seniority, as well as the experience, for everyone to default to letting him lead.

Arvid, the cleric, is their healer, and the other frontline soldier. In-fiction he's also cool-headed, mostly lawful good, and very good at following the orders of a commander- together, these two men are a veritable meatshield. Not to mention that with Ray as their tank, the healer being on his heels would probably be a good move- and though they might occasionally disagree on the reasons, but they'll generally agree on the right thing to do and hold sway over the other two.

Iona is not only a high-damage ranged- and utility caster, but also a very charismatic person: a haggler, a negotiator, and, while not the most morally upstanding person (she's kind of.... true neutral to neutral good, sort of), in general she can be very useful as the public face of the party. While it'd be Ray's presence that says "trust me", it'd be her words that hold actual power (something of which she'd be keenly aware), and it does seem fun to have the boys rely on the one tiny woman among them to do all the party's talking.

And Petyr is a hell of a marksman. He's, at his core, a survivalist- he may be a bit questionable as far as allegiances are concerned (i'm thinking true- to chaotic neutral), but he's fast, stealthy, lethal, and the most mobile of all of them, zipping around the battlefield and picking people off one after the other. Not super talented with the lockpicking portions, but honestly that's beside the point. They just need Iona to drop a haste spell on him, and all the others really have to do is keep him from getting swarmed.

It's a really fun combo. kinda wanna draw them, kinda wanna play them, kinda wanna watch a whimsical animated series starring them.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Miss Raven, may I have some reader platonic friendship headcanons with Idia, Riddle, Ruggie, Floyd, and Kalim? I really want to know what it generally would be like to be friends with them!

Curiouser and Curiouser...

A lot of your hang-outs are done remotely. It gives Idia more confidence to speak to you without showing his face. Usually you hold voice calls while you talk about random things, or playing an online multiplayer game while raging outloud to one another.

You have weekly anime binge or movie nights! To keep it fair, you take turns picking something new to watch every time you finish with the last thing.

Idia’s very opinionated about the media he consumes. When he gets in the mood to gush and/or rant, expect to be up listening to him until 3 am (with barely any pauses to allow for you to comment).

The few times you’ve met in person, Idia really struggles to make conversation. More often than not, he hunches over in his hoodie and frantically texts you what he wants to say... even though he’s already standing right next to you.

Of course, you attend geeky cons together, like all otaku do! You stay up together for hours the night before, mapping out the quickest routes between panels, which artists and vendors you want to buy from, and which guests you want to sign your faces.

Riddle’s like your personal alarm clock. He somehow always remembers important dates and deadlines, and makes sure you never forget them, either! 

Riddle is the friend that’s responsible for arranging hang-outs. Everyone else gets too lazy to coordinate schedules or to find a location everyone would have no problems reaching, but Riddle does so with ease. He has spreadsheets, polls, and maps primed for this very purpose!

He can be naggy and a worrywort at times. Riddle brings along everything and anything you could possibly need on an outing (umbrella, water bottle, bug spray, first aid kit...), because you can never be too prepared!

He follows the rules, and makes sure that you do, too. Riddle’s the type of person to hold his arm out in front of you to prevent you from jaywalking (even when there are clearly no vehicles coming your way).

You know you can count on Riddle when you need advice! He may not be knowledgeable on everything, but he has a good head on his shoulders and can talk some sense into you while you’re having an emotional moment.

Ruggie’s hard to pin down. He always has his hands full of part-time jobs, so finding a time when he’s free to hang out is a challenge.

He prefers to do things that won’t cost him money (or, if they cost money, only when someone else is footing the bill for him). His favorite things to do with you? Just running around in a park or playing a team sport.

Ruggie shows up to any gathering with food, siphons as much as he can (even bringing containers to take food home with him), and then peaces out. Whenever you eat at a restaurant with him, the most Ruggie will do is drink the free water and eat the free bread, or ask to taste “a little” of what you ordered.

He’s one of the most loyal friends you’ll ever have! Ruggie sticks with you through thick and through thin, and he’s definitely willing to lend a helping hand to whatever problem you might be facing (... but he’ll also hand you an IOU later).

Ruggie’s the moodmaker of your friend group. He doesn’t necessarily always have a joke, funny story, or a bad pun on hand, but he’s always smiling or laughing, and encouraging you to do the same!

Floyd’s the flaky friend! You could spend an eternity arranging a date and time for a hang-out, but there’s a 50% change he won’t show up, even if he agreed to it beforehand.

He’s always causing trouble, which, by association, also gets you in trouble, too! You might be chasing after Floyd to convince him to attend class, only to realize that now you’re late for class, too! He also tends to bait you into doing stupid things with him by annoying you or hurting your pride until you cave.

It’s not uncommon for him to tease you. Unfortunately, the teasing goes a bit too far sometimes and ends up actually hurting you. At times like that, you give him a little scolding (though he might not listen anyway). It can be infuriating at times to be his friend, since he has his very high highs and very low lows.

Floyd likes to roughhouse He’ll greet you with a noogie or tackle you without any regard for his surroundings, or for your safety--he just wants to hug you hard!

He shows up at gatherings with unexpected guests (it could be his brother, it could be people he just picked a fight with--) or unexpected “gifts” (here’s a whipped cream pie for your face~). It’s always a mixed bag with him.

Kalim’s your (overly) enthusiastic, extroverted friend that’s always inviting you to out! He’ll walk with you to and from class, and invite you to hang with him afterwards. The arcade? Let’s go! A restaurant? Sure! Throwing a party this weekend? Heck yeah!!

He’s so rich that he’s a little out of touch with “normal” people’s budgets (like yours). Kalim will get you all these crazy expensive gifts for your birthday and not understand why your jaw drops, or he’ll ask if you want to join his family for a luxurious trip to a Pyroxene ski resort without first considering how taxing the cost may be for you.

Kalim’s super generous and hospitable! He offers you tons of food when you hang out, lets you pet his (many) pets, and lets take as many flowers as you want from his garden... He really spoils you!

Since he has had servants taking care of him his whole life, Kalim can’t do a lot of common things like wash rice or clean his room--so even though he’s almost an adult, he’s really considered the “baby” of your friends group. It’s up to you to stop Kalim from adding dish soap to wash his rice!

He’s always looking on the bright side of things! When the chips are down, you can turn to Kalim’s optimism to shine a ray of sunshine onto you. He may not have advice on how to make your situation better, but he can offer a smile and a dance to lift your spirits so you can think more clearly!

[plant-flwrs]

hello love! i was wondering if you could write a fred x gryffindor reader in which she is in the same year as ron and he’s constantly flirting with her, so she gives him the same energy but inside she’s afraid he’s like that with everyone and that she might be just another one but the truth is that he’s hopelessly in love with her? maybe george can give him a push? maybe a fluffy ending? thank you so muchhh 🥰

smiling kisses // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: ok when i wrote this i had interpreted it as you wanting ron and the reader to be friends and now i’m rereading it and you didnt explicitly say that, so i hope you don’t mind that I made them friends lol! i love the flirty but clueless trope and fred is the perfect person for this. thanks for your request! i’m actually so proud of this and I hope you like it!!!!!

(4.2k)

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“I don’t see what the big deal is!” Ron said, rolling his eyes at Hermione.

“He’s your brother, certainly it must bother you,” she retorted, undeterred by his exasperated tone.

You bounded down the stairs, your hand grazing the wall as you turned to meet your friends. They looked at you, and Hermione’s face flushed red.

“Talking about me?” you teased, sliding onto the couch in between the two of them.

Ron smirked at Hermione, and her face grew redder.

“You were, weren’t you?” you said playfully, throwing your arms behind each of them, pulling them closer.

“Hermione was,” Ron mumbled, and Hermione reached across your lap and pinched Ron’s arm.

“Ouch!” he said, and before you could ask what they were saying about you, the topic of Hermione and Ron’s previous conversation sauntered through the portrait hole.

It only took Fred a second to find you, sandwiched between his brother and Hermione. He and George strolled over, leaning over the back of the couch and putting their faces close to yours. They were on either side of you, and Hermione squeezed out of your grasp and cringed away from them. Ron wrapped a long arm around George’s neck, pulling him over the couch and onto the floor in front of you.

“That was a mistake, Ickle Ronniekins,” George taunted, leaping from his spot on the ground. Ron’s smile faded and he scrambled to move off the couch, missing George’s grasp by an inch as he stumbled up the stairs.

“Ah, boys,” you exhaled, pretending to be awestruck. Hermione giggled from her spot in the corner of the couch, and Fred retracted his head from beside yours.

He walked to the front of the couch and took Ron’s spot, sitting close to you. Your thighs touched, and your school skirt had rose while sitting. Fred’s eyes drifted to the exposed skin, and he raked his gaze over you. You watched his eyes move, and when they met yours a smirk flirted on your lips and you rolled your eyes.

“Very charming, Fred,” you said, moving to pull your skirt down.

“Don’t cover up on my accord, darling,” he said, leaning back into the couch and spreading his arms across the length of the cushions.

“Really, Fred?” Hermione said from besides you, shifting uncomfortably and scowling.

“You look nice too, ‘Mione,” Fred gave her a charming smile and her scowl deepened.

“Don’t let him bother you, he’s all talk and no bite,” you said, turning towards Hermione and away from Fred.

He tugged at a piece of your hair, and you turned to face him again, an eyebrow quirked.

He had an evil smirk on his face, and his eyes were a little darker than usual.

“You think?” he asked, a flirtatious tone dripping from his tongue.

Hermione groaned loudly, fed up with the antics of teenaged boys. She stood and grabbed your hand, pulling you from the couch. Fred was disappointed to see you leave, but he enjoyed the view. You looked over your shoulder, and sent him a flirty wave, which only widened his smirk.

George had given up his chase after Ron’s dormitory door slammed shut in his face. He walked down the stairs in time to see Fred nearly drooling on the couch, watching you leave through the portrait hole with Hermione.

“You’re hopeless,” he said, sitting opposite of Fred on an armchair.

“Shut up,” Fred retorted, still staring dreamily at the portrait hole where you had been moments ago.

“When are you gonna tell her?”

“I tell her just about every day!” Fred said, turning to look at his brother.

“No, you flirt with her. There’s a difference,” George said, picking off a piece of lint from his sweater.

“How can she not know by now?” Fred sighed, sinking deeper into the couch and covering his face with his hands.

“You have to be upfront with her, tell her outright,” George proposed, beginning to twirl his wand between his fingers.

“Maybe,” Fred mumbled.

“It’s disgusting!” Hermione shouted for the twelfth time, her tone just as disapproving as the first.

“I’m sure he’s like that with everyone,” you reassured her, “and I don’t even mind it.”

“How can you not mind it?” she said, looking at you like you were out of your mind.

“I don’t know,” you twirled your fingers behind your back, “I think it’s a bit charming. He’s not always that unseemly, usually, it’s much tamer.”

“How often does he do that?” she asked, her tone softening a bit.

“I don’t know, most times I see him, I guess,” you admitted, smiling at the thought of it.

Hermione stopped walking suddenly like she was frozen in her spot. You turned to her, and her mouth was agape.

“You like him!” she shouted accusingly, pointing a shaky finger at you.

“Hermione!” you moved towards her, pushing her finger down.

Your eyes were wide at her accusation, and you felt your face become very warm.

“You do! You absolutely do!” she said again, her voice still too loud.

“Shut up!” you hushed her, pulling her to keep walking.

“Please tell me you don’t,” she pleaded, her face twisted like a child begging their parent for candy.

“Stop!” you hushed her again, wanting to forget about Fred.

“Just tell me, and I’ll drop it, swear,” she said, pulling you down an empty corridor.

“Fine! I like him, just a little,” you admitted, resting your forehead on your hand and looking at the floor.

“Why?” she asked, seemingly dumbfounded.

“I don’t know! Why do you like Ron?” you retorted, and her eyes grew wide.

“I-” she started, stuttering through her words, “that’s not even relevant right now.”

“See? Not as simple as you thought,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the wall.

She did the same, standing next to you, and you both slid down the wall until you were sitting. The stone was cool against your back, and hard beneath your head.

“I suppose it makes sense,” she said finally, turning her head towards you.

“What?” you asked, meeting her eyes.

“Well you’re both always flirting with each other,” she said, recalling all the times she nearly gagged as Fred said something flirtatious to you.

“He flirts with everyone,” you said, sounding defeated, “that’s why I didn’t tell you. He doesn’t like me back.”

“He doesn’t flirt with me,” Hermione started, furrowing her brow, “and he doesn’t look at anyone else the way he looks at you.”

Her tone of disgust changed to the tone she had when she was trying to figure something out, looking at it like it was a puzzle.

“Logically, you have to admit that he may have feelings for you. I mean, who would do all that flirting just to want a friendship?”

You rolled your eyes at Hermione. She sounded like she might be right, but she hadn’t accounted for something; Love and Fred do not follow the rules of logic.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Fred drawled, sliding into the bench next to you.

“Morning,” you said plainly.

You were a bit haunted by Hermione’s words. You had never thought in depth about yours and Fred’s relationship. He flirted with you, so you flirted back, simple. Now, the threat of real feelings loomed behind each of your words, and the pressure was too much.

“Sleep well?” he asked, leaning his shoulder into you as he scooped some eggs onto his plate.

“Yeah. You?” you kept your head buried in your newspaper, reading the moving advertisements over and over.

Fred looked at you curiously. You were never this dry with him, you always had something on the tip of your tongue. He was worried he went too far yesterday, maybe he had been too obvious. Did you not reciprocate his feelings after all?

“I slept wonderfully. Dreaming about you, of course,” he continued, sounding awfully proper and dragging out the syllables.

You felt your cheeks burn beneath the newspaper, and suddenly Fred’s long fingers were pushing the paper down so he could see you. You struggled to keep it up, but the thin paper eventually crumbled and you dropped it. You looked up at him, his smile widening when he saw your blush.

“Aww,” he said, moving to pinch your cheek endearingly.

He had only been able to pinch one before you swatted his hand away.

“Stop it,” you said, no infliction or seriousness in your voice.

“Can’t help it,” he said, balancing his cheek in his palm and staring at you.

You fought the shy smile rising on your lips and rolled your eyes at him. He was leaning closer to you, smiling. Just as he was inches away, peering into your eyes, you pulled the newspaper up to separate you two. Ron laughed evilly next to you, having watched the entire exchange.

Fred reached behind you and hit Ron upside the head. He cleared his throat awkwardly and straightened his tie, moving his attention to George who was sat across from him.

Fred caught his twin’s eyes and widened them as if to ask “did you just see that?”. George gave him a sympathetic nod, feeling some second-hand embarrassment for his brother.

Hermione pulled you away from Harry and Ron the second you left breakfast, and you wondered why she hadn’t tried out for beater with the grip she had.

“Ouch! Hell of a grip, ‘Mione!” you mumbled to her when you were out of the boy’s earshot.

“I wanted to talk to you, mind if we go the long way?” she asked, not waiting for your answer as she pulled you down a hallway with long rays of sunshine casting onto the floor.

“What’s up?” you said, finally being released.

“What was all that with Fred? It looked like he was going to kiss you for Merlin’s sake!” she waved her hands while she talked, nearly hitting your shoulder.

You ducked and widened your eyes at her evaluation of breakfast. Was Fred trying to kiss you? At 7 in the morning? That was his grand plan if he did like you?

“No he wasn’t!” you said with disbelief. It had come out more like a gasp than a protest, and Hermione’s eyes widened at your cluelessness.

“He was! And you put up the newspaper! It was horribly awkward, really,” Hermione rambled, ignoring your loud and embarrassed groan and the sound of your palm hitting your face.

“I thought he was just being annoying,” you mumbled, replaying the events in your mind, “I mean who kisses someone right before breakfast?”

“This is going to be difficult,” she said, seeming to be lost in thought.

“What is?”

“Getting you two together, of course,” Hermione said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

George was tired of Fred’s elongated sighs and downcast lips.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he reassured his brother for the millionth time.

“It was awful,” Fred groaned, hiding his face into the wall they were leaning against.

“She probably didn’t even realize, mate,” George said, but he knew he didn’t mean it. He had very little hope for his brother.

“She doesn’t fancy me, it’s confirmed,” Fred said miserably, trying to suppress the very real sadness he was feeling.

Fred moped around for the next few days, and it was starting to affect George. Fred never wanted to go to the common room in case you were there, and they locked themselves away in their dorm most afternoons.

George had to cheer his brother up, Lee was no replacement when it came to pranks. The idea had struck him one of the many afternoons he spent looking out the window by his bed, longing for Quidditch season. He had been thinking about how amazing it would be to be out on the pitch, beating Slytherin 100-0, when he was inspired. He sat from his spot on the windowsill and told his brother all about the genius plan.

The next morning, they had gotten to the Great Hall early, as they discussed. They had cast all the charms and were waiting to watch the results. The other tables slowly began to fill up, and the genius of George’s plan was that he knew Snape was calling a house meeting this morning. This meant that when all the Slytherins would come down for breakfast, everyone would already be there to watch the prank.

Even though his eyes were locked onto the Slytherin table, Fred did not miss you walking in with Ron. You and Ron usually slept late, and often missed breakfast if it weren’t for Hermione. Fred watched your eyes divert his own, instead, focusing very hard on what Ron was saying. His happiness faltered for a moment, until George elbowed him, bringing his attention to the herd of Slytherins walking in.

The first people to sit on the benches were promptly launched into the air, and one of them happened to be Draco Malfoy, which really was the icing on the cake in Fred’s opinion. More and more people began bouncing on the bench like it was made of a bouncy rubber (it was) and laughs filled the hall. The bench made a comedic wobbling sound as it bent and curved to each student falling onto it. Arms flailed and eyes widened.

Dumbledore’s icy eyes looked entertained for a moment before he waved his wand and all of the students were frozen in the air. He guided them to the ground safely and instructed them not the get back on the bench. The group of students in green ties scowled, immediately looking towards the Gryffindor table. The twins smiled and waved innocently, standing to the sound of wild applause. They couldn’t help it, they were willing to take the credit if it meant detention.

And it did mean detention. Snape had walked over so fast, that Fred and George felt a gust of air as the black cloak halted in front of them.

They were charged with polishing the hundreds of cauldrons in Snape’s room and had to take extra care to Snape’s personal large cauldron in the front of the room.

They had been doing this for a few days, their spirits yet to be broken. They were given a brush the size of a fingernail, though, so they weren’t making much progress.

Sneaking out past curfew wasn’t something you and Harry did often, but tonight you found yourselves doing it quite easily. You realized, while studying with Hermione, that you had left your Potions textbook at the girl's bathroom in the dungeons. You made Harry go with you to retrieve it because you were too scared to go on your own. He offered you the invisibility cloak and you gladly accepted, moving close to him as he slid it over you and you made your way to the dungeons.

You held your breath almost the entire time, and Harry had to remind you to keep your eyes open. He nearly yelped when you stepped on his foot for the fifth time.

“Sorry!” you whispered, giving him an apologetic look.

You eventually made it to the dungeons, slowly creeping down the stairs. You entered the hall and saw that the door to Snape’s classroom was open, some light coming from it. Harry looked at you and you shrugged.

You slid from under the cloak and slipped into the bathroom. You easily found your textbook and hurried to the door. When you opened it, you figured it might be stuck, because the door wouldn’t open. Harry might be playing a joke, you thought, so you chuckled and pushed harder. The door swung open, and you fell to the floor. When you got up, dusting your knees, you realized who you had knocked to the ground. Snape was a mess of black clothing, his greasy hair scattered across his face.

“Professor! I’m so sorry!” you began, still speaking in a hushed tone.

“I hadn’t realized you were out here, I thought the door was stuck!” you continued, watching him slowly get to his feet, a look of rage slowly overcoming his features.

“What are you doing out past curfew?” he snarled, dusting off his robes.

You looked around, and couldn’t find Harry. He must have put the invisibility cloak on. You couldn’t blame him, he definitely would have gotten the worst of it from Snape. You glanced behind Snape, towards his classroom. Two redheads were peeking out from the crack in the door. It was Fred and George. You remembered they had gotten detention for their prank a few days ago. Your cheeks became a deep red, out of fear and embarrassment.

“I was trying to study sir, but then I realized I had left my textbook down here. I had to get it, I have to finish the essay you assigned,” you said, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

You heard a snicker from Snape’s classroom, undoubtedly from Fred, and Snape whirled around to face them.

“You two! You’re dismissed, back here tomorrow, same time,” Snape snarled, and when neither of them moved he raised his voice, “go!”

They walked off slowly, looking over their shoulders at you. You ducked your head down, trying to hide your face.

“You will be joining them for detention this week,” Snape snarled, peering down at you with disgust, “cleaning my cauldrons.”

You sighed, nodding your head. It was already Wednesday, so you supposed you’d only have to do it for two days.

“Yes, sir,” you mumbled and rushed past him and up the stairs.

When you climbed the stairs, you put your hand over your heart, trying to slow it down. Coming to the final step, you were met with three too joyful faces.

“Rotten luck,” George said.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Harry said, only his head peeking out from the cloak.

“Professor! I’m so sorry!” Fred finished, imitating your voice and tumbling into George as you had tumbled into Snape.

You blushed, even more, feeling your entire face get red.

“Some help you are, Harry,” you said, shoving his invisible shoulder.

He stumbled back and gave you an apologetic smile. You and Harry walked a few paces in front of the twins, arguing over whose fault the whole thing was.

Fred watched you, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He had so much he wanted to say to you, so much he wanted to finally confess, but it was stuck in his throat.

“Well, now you’re going to be stuck in a room with her,” George began, talking only so Fred could hear him, “maybe now you’ll tell her.”

Fred rolled his eyes, “Yeah, and maybe the sky will be red tomorrow.”

George huffed out a breath, tired of hearing his brother’s excuses. George was a big believer in saying how you felt, and he was sick of this little cat and mouse game you and Fred were playing.

The four of you slipped into the portrait hole, and you were upset to see it was just as crowded as when you left. Hermione and Ron were huddled over their Transfiguration homework, and she was talking animatedly to Ron about a vanishing spell she had read about.

“Y/N, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Hermione said as you settled into the couch next to her.

“Just Professor Snape,” George teased from an armchair next to her.

“You got caught?” she said as if she was asking if they had also killed someone while they were out.

“Oh yeah, Snape caught her right as she fell on top of him!” Fred called from where he stood behind George.

Harry offered no help, sitting lamely on the floor by Ron’s feet. You hid your face behind Hermione, slumping into her.

“Are you alright?” she asked, trying to lift your head from her shoulder.

“It was so bad,” you said, cringing as you remembered it.

The twins laughed loudly, drawing the attention of anyone who was near them. Harry began to chuckle and Hermione hit his shoulder.

“What happened?” she asked, finally sitting you back upright

“Harry was supposed to keep watch!” you said, standing and pointing down at him accusingly.

“I was!”

“Then how did Snape end up right in front of the door?”

“He just walked there? What was I meant to do?”

“I don’t know! You could have given me a little knock so I didn’t bust the door down on him!”

You and Harry yelled at each other with no real aggression, and a smile flickered on your lips when you couldn’t suppress it anymore.

George jumped from his chair and pulled Fred to stand in front of everyone. George pretended to be pushing down a door, which made Fred become brooding and intimidating like Snape. He twisted his face into a scowl and hugged his arms around his waist as if he was holding shut a robe. George fell onto Fred, sending Fred to the ground. George stood, putting on an exaggerated innocent look and covering his pouting mouth with his hands.

“Professor!” he raised his voice to the highest octave it would go, “I am so sorry!”

“Detention!” Fred screamed, copying Snape’s signature drawl.

“Yes, sir,” George screeched, putting his hands in his face and pretending to cry.

“I did not cry!” you said, laughing.

“Oh, you didn’t? Could have sworn we heard some crying,” George said, wrapping a brotherly arm around your shoulder.

“You got detention?” Hermione asked, standing from her seat with a bewildered expression.

“Yeah, two days with these idiots,” you said, pointing a thumb at Fred and George.

You met Fred’s eyes, and his laughter soon faded to a look of admiration. You looked away from him, blushing.

“Oh, that’s awful!” Hermione said, falling back into the couch.

You moved from George’s arm and sat next to Hermione again, pulling your Potions textbook to your lap. You peaked at Hermione’s, trying to find the right page.

Harry and Ron were still laughing, and a smile ghosted your lips.

You managed to finish your Potions essay, and upon seeing Snape’s glare when you turned it in, you were not looking forward to detention.

You said goodbye to a disappointed Hermione, and giggling Ron and Harry, sulking down to the dungeons where you had to spend your evening.

“Here,” Snape handed you the smallest cleaning brush you had ever seen and shoved a filthy cauldron into your arms.

You sank into a stool and cradled the heavy thing in your hands, dipping the brush into a cleaning solution Snape gave you. He left the room with a sweep of his robes, and the thought of using magic to clean the cauldrons crossed your mind. You decided against it though, figuring Snape would just give you some other act of labor to do instead.

You waited for the twins to stumble in, they were already late. When they eventually showed up, according to your watch, 20 minutes late, there was only one of them. Fred’s tie hung undone around his neck, and his collar was unkempt.

“Hello, love,” he said, pulling up a stool across from you and moving a cauldron between his hands as if it weighed nothing.

“Hi, Fred,” you said, smiling politely at him, “where’s George?”

Fred sighed and put the brush to the cauldron.

“Prank backfired, he’s in the infirmary for warts,” Fred explained, gesturing to his face, where George presumably had the warts.

“Yuck,” your fast twisted with disgust, but a smile was still there.

Fred chuckled at your reaction and nodded.

“So it’s just us tonight,” Fred said, and insinuation on the tip of his tongue.

“Guess so,” you said, unbothered.

“Haven’t spoken in a while,” he said, looking up at you while you kept your eyes locked on the cauldron in your lap.

“Been busy?” you asked him, hoping he wasn’t going to mention the newspaper incident.

“Oh, this and that,” he said, abandoning the cauldron and resting his elbows on the table, “you?”

“This and that,” you replied, looking up to meet his eyes.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, a smirk contrasting to the genuine tone of his words.

“That’s sweet, Freddie,” you replied, shocking yourself with the levelness of your voice.

“Freddie?” he repeated, undeterred.

“Freddie.”

“Only girlfriends have called me Freddie,” he said, smirking still.

You felt your face warm, “Oh the long list of girlfriends you’ve had? Who was there?” you paused, pretending to be in deep thought, “Angelina for a week or two?”

Fred chuckled, gazing at you.

“Future girlfriends too,” he said simply.

It took you a second to realize what he had meant, and when you did you were sure you were bright red. Your hand brushing the cauldron stopped. You tried to think of something to say, focusing on keeping a steady voice, but all you could think of was: “Shut up.”

Fred laughed, his shoulders shaking. He shook his head with something like amazement at you, grinning like a fool.

“Do you want to call me Freddie?” he said suddenly after it had been quiet for a while, his tone a little serious.

“What?” you squinted your eyes in confusion.

“Do you want to call me Freddie? Like a girlfriend would,” he said, and his face was stern. His eyes were locked onto yours.

“Do I want to be your girlfriend?” you repeated to him, your mouth open in shock.

“Do you?” he said, leaning over the table, closer to you.

“Fred,” you said, feeling dumbstruck. You didn’t know what to say, but a smile crept onto your face.

“Yeah,” you said finally, and his eyes widened.

“Really?” he said, smiling like a mad man.

“Really,” you repeated, nodding.

“Cool,” he said, still smiling widely and not knowing what to do with himself.

“Cool?” you laughed, putting the cauldron down.

Fred stood from his stool and pounded his fist into the air, celebrating.

You laughed, covering your face in your hands.

You felt him move to stand next to you, and you lifted your head, looking up at him. He gazed down at you, still smiling.

“Freddie,” you teased, dragging out the word.

His smile turned into a crooked grin. He pulled your face up to his, cupping your cheeks.

His dazed smile didn’t falter as he pressed his lips to yours, and you found it feeling quite awkward. His lips were pulled tight into a closed smile, and his eyes were wide open with glee as he kissed you. You pulled away, laughing and ducking your face into his chest. You felt his chest move with laughter, his arms snaking around you. His fingers toyed with the hem of your sweater until his long, nimble fingers ducked under it. He traced little swirls on the skin of your lower back, and you pressed your cheek against his chest.

“Call me Freddie again?” he said, and you could hear the smile on his face.

“I don’t know,” you trailed, pulling your face away from him and looking at him through your eyelashes, “you might enjoy it too much.”

He groaned teasingly, his head lulling back as he looked at the ceiling. When he met your gaze again, his smile softened into a plain face. He pulled you from your seat, stepping back an inch to give you just enough room to stand. You were still pressed against him, his arms wrapped around you.

His resting lips were much nicer to kiss, your faces met in just the right way. You thought the two of you may have melted together somehow, moving in perfect synch. One of his hands trailed up your back, tickling you ever so slightly and rested on the back of your neck. He pulled you closer there, deepening the kiss and slipping his tongue in. It grazed your bottom lip, and you felt his eyebrows furrow against your face. He breathed in deeply, his hand on your neck moving to burrow itself in your hair. He grabbed a fistful of it and pulled you back gently. You struggled to open your eyes for a moment, and when you did you saw Fred grinning at you.

You leaned in close again, this time going to his ear. “Freddie,” you whispered.

He leaned back, as if in a fit of laughter, and pulled you into a tight hug. He groaned playfully again, and you laughed at the reaction you could cause.

You slid out of his grasp and back onto the stool. He pulled up the stool next to you and sat very close. Your knees touched, and he watched you dreamily as you began to scrub the cauldron again.

“Finally!” George said as he strolled into the classroom, wart free.

“All patched up?” you asked him, and Fred acted as if George wasn’t even there, still staring at you.

“Oh, yeah, easy fix,” George said, taking Fred’s previous seat across from you. He continued Fred’s cauldron, picking up the discarded brush.

“So you two finally got together?” George asked after some time had passed, glancing up at you while you cleaned.

“What makes you say that?” you asked, elbowing Fred as he leaned very close to your face, like he was memorizing every detail.

“Well, I think Fred is drooling,” George said, kicking his brother’s leg under the table.

[writing-prompt-s]

Hey there! First time anon asker, long time follower. I appreciate all the work you do for this blog. Just want to keep the conversation going about the Edison quote you retweeted, on "giving up" versus "knowing when to stop." Though Edison sucks as some comments pointed out, I happen to agree with the quote to an extent. I'm curious to know more about your experience. First, some background for my opinion: I work as a student tutor for fellow college students. One of the biggest things we learn as tutors is how to encourage students NOT to give up when they face a challenge. Lots of people, especially first-gen college students, give up when they're struggling in class because they assume they're "not smart enough" or something along those lines, when research and my personal experience show that that's not true. They are able to change their school habits and seek out help, but only if they already have a mindset where they believe they can do it. Those who don't believe in themselves are less likely to seek help and thus, more likely to fail. Students might also drop out of college or get bad grades because of things outside of their control, like losing their job or other difficulties that make it hard for them to continue at college. This is also an issue because some (not all) colleges have programs to help students during difficult times, but many students don't even try, they just drop out. I have benefitted from some of these programs personally, so even though they can't cure everything, these programs should be considered when a student is struggling. And sometimes, dropping out of college IS the best decision for a person, whether they intend to return later or go a different path. It's just that for many students, they don't have to give up on their education/career goals because of the hardships they're currently trying to work through, but they believe that there's nothing else they can do. The solution may be out there, but they "give up" because they didn't look for it. As a tutor, that's why phrases like "don't give up!" are so important for the people I work with. Not because college is for everyone or that people should sacrifice their well-being for a degree, but because students (again especially first generation college students, students of color, and low income students) have such low confidence in themselves and their ability to learn and grow through obstacles. The Edison quote wasn't about college, but I'm using my experience as a college student and tutor as a more concrete example of why the Edison quote could be useful. College student or not, I think having a "don't give up" attitude can get you through some hard times. So all of this is to preface my question: in your opinion, how can we know the difference between a healthy, "I will do everything I can to meet my goals" situation and an unhealthy, "I will sacrifice everything" situation? Sorry for this lengthy ask btw, if you don't want to respond I completely understand. Just hoping to hear your insight to the topic more. Thanks for this blog and for sharing your thoughts! -S

Hey S!

Read “The Dip” by Seth Godin. It counts about 80 pages but reads like 30. I highly recommend reading it and using the ideas in guiding your students. When you read it, it’s mostly common sense with a bit of oh damn, nice! But sometimes common sense needs to be conceptualized, made concrete, or put into context, and this little book does just that.

The main idea is to know if you should quit or persevere during ‘a dip’ by forecasting the probability of success and take costs/rewards into account.

However, this might not be everyone’s best skill, so some people might need practice or guidance. As Ray Dalio points out in his book ‘Principles’, everyone is wired differently. Just as our bodies come in different shapes and sizes, so do the compositions of our brains. Some people might have weak bones or naturally have lots of muscle mass. Others might regulate emotions well, or are weak at visualizing the future. (By the way, neuroscience tells us we can shape and improve our brains!)

The different compositions of our brains also affects communication between people. Everyone encodes and decodes information differently, and then also gets filtered through one’s own life experiences. So advice such as ‘first seek to understand, then to be understood’ is paramount before encouraging people to ‘not give up.’ If the other person doesn’t feel that you completely understand their situation, saying that actually might work counter-productive!

In my opinion, in most cases 'don’t give up!’ is a good motto for college students. You know what to expect from college. If you do x you will get x. If you stick through the dip (time spend getting good grades), you will get the reward (degree). However, as you point out, some students might face additional stress outside of college, or society might already have put them at a disadvantage. It might just become too much. You helping and encouraging students who are at a disadvantage is incredibly helpful. As humans, we are naturally wired to be interdependent. We cannot do everything by ourselves, nor should we want to. We thrive on meaningful relationships and social connections.

So where is the line between healthy and unhealthy? That’s actually a very tough question. Most people tend to think of life as a journey, always trying to get somewhere, trying to achieve something. It would mean telling people how to live their life and I have no clue. Of course, if in trying to get to your goal your body shows signs of it being unhealthy, stop or take a break. Stress is good, but not to the point where you break down. Self-management is key. Overall I would say it’s healthy if your values align with the process to achieve the goal, the goal, and the consequences of achieving it. But then again, always be realistic. Quitting frees up time, energy and other resources that can be spend on achieving a different, perhaps more rewarding/meaningful/attainable goal.

An attempt at a more concrete answer would be:

It’s impossible to generalize what is healthy and what is unhealthy as everyone has a different idea of what that is and is living their own complex life. Therefore, on a case-by-case basis, people should be taught to take a step back sometimes, contemplate what they are doing, analyse it, be open-minded, seek help from (qualified) people and ask for feedback and advice, and then make up their minds themselves whether what they are doing is healthy or not.

As @zeadtalost said in the comments: “Man’s gotta know his limitations”. But then I would like to add to it that ‘man’ should not be fool enough never to test what they believe to be their limitations. Because what you say is true. Often limitations are in the mind, and overcoming them is what will make people more confident and capable! So please keep doing what you are doing. I doubt you find this a concrete answer, but I am pretty sure the book by Seth Godin will help you lots! Also, by the length of your ask I can tell you are very dedicated and a compassionate tutor, and it’s your caring attitude that will give your students the best chance of succeeding!

[wrenqueenisboss]

Part 2: The Chronicles of Time

part 2 of my Keeper of Time series the Keeper of Time masterlist

Characters: Technoblade, Philza, Tommy, Ranboo, Tubbo Warnings: none (send me an ask if I'm wrong) Summary: After much convincing, the Keeper of Time agrees to visit the main part of the server and meet the people. Words: 2.2k+

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

You didn't have a home. You were not homeless, but you didn't have a set dwelling - a building and structure that would serve as your base. No. You were not homeless. As the server was your home. But you were house-less.

That did not matter, though. Having a house never made sense. It never had and it never would. You are immortal. You outlive everything and everyone. While Time would sweep away whatever home you built, it would leave you behind. You were the Keeper of Time. You were protected. Or so you thought.

The last home you'd ever had, centuries upon centuries ago, was long destroyed. The family who one occupied it, long returned to the earth. Even the lighthouse is beginning to fade and crumble away. Only the Temple of Time remains constant.

It's a wonder nobody has found it. Tucked away in a clearing in a forest near the vast ocean, it makes perfect sense that someone would stumble upon the beautiful marble temple. And perhaps they have. Perhaps the slight wear-away marks on the front steps are not a fact of Time, but a fact of an actual person visiting. Perhaps they visited during the century you were asleep.

Too many things could have happened. Might have happened. Probably happened. Did happen. Too many swept away by time. You had been swept away by Time. Actually... no. Time had kept you in its clutches. Kept you hostage. Kept you.

Time kept you.

Kept the Keeper of Time.

Oh gods, the irony was overwhelming.

You wake up to patterns of light. The morning sun creating dazzling patterns on the marble floor of the Temple. Smiling slightly, you lazily reached out a hand to catch the rays. Warmth instantly floods your body as the sun touched your hands.

But you need to continue your job. Your duty. Your responsibility. Your purpose. The reason for your immortality.

You pick yourself up off the cold floor, your body feeling lonely as it no longer presses against the marble tiles. Limbs seem to stretch on their own.

The world seems to wake up. The sun climbing just past the tips of the trees, dappling the clouds with pink and yellow. The birds begin to chirp their hellos. The nighttime mobs retreat back to their caves.

The back of the Temple calls to you. You press on the secret stone. The marble block that was a tad bit lighter if you looked closer for just a moment longer. A doorway opens up.

The doorway. The doorway to the Archives. The room full of all your journals and reports. Every single note you had ever taken was stored in the secure stone chamber - save for the notes in the notebook you were using now.

Silently, you walk to the very last shelf. There was no need for noise. No one to talk to. No one to disturb. Silent steps were efficient and elegant. Noisy ones were cumbersome.

The only sound echoing through the circular stone room was the sound of your fingers brushing over the spines of the journals. Journals that were started and finished eons ago. It was a wonder they hadn’t fallen apart. Your years of careful maintenance could be responsible for that.

You stop when your fingers ghosted the worn leather binding of the very last journal. Or the first, technically. Carefully hooking your finger on the delicate spine, you slid your oldest journal from it’s designated spot on the shelf.

With a few dusty cracking sounds, the book falls open. The pages follow suit, revealing the very thing you were looking for. The first entry.

“Everything starts somewhere” they always say. The day starts with the sun behind the horizon. A true story often starts with tragedy. But your journals, the daily entries, started with one.

One specific entry.

The end of the server. Fire. Screaming. Death. Destruction. Loss. Survival. Grief. Heroes and martyrs. Victims and Killers. Peaceful mornings succeeded by violent nights. Everything and nothing. Suddenly there and suddenly not. Lives upturned faster than you could blink.

It's the story of your past. The story of the server’s past. Or simply, just the story of the past. The first book in the Keeper’s Archives. The very first Chronicle of Time.

The words on the page were written by a very different person. A girl who was too kind and naive for the harsh world she lived in. Who didn’t cherish the life she was living enough. A girl that burned with everyone else; with the world.

That girl is gone now. Time had taken her away. You were left behind in her wake. Wiser, older, and less naive. Still foolish and gullible, still believing that Time was merciful, but far less than before.

The very first official entry told of life as the world ended. It told of life alone, of coping with loneliness. It told of navigating a ravaged world and empty server. Told of meeting Time for the first time.

You used to consult your old journals for advice frequently. When you were just getting used to immortality. To your goddess-like status. Getting used to your eternal purpose. But the centuries and eons erased the uncertainty. You found your footing in the solitude. Found comfort in the simple routine; wake up, walk as much of the server as possible, record your findings.

The Chronicles of Time were a compilation of eons of work. Eons of endless walks and careful observations. Eons of loneliness. Eternities of isolation.

But the old journals that were treasures of the past held wisdom, hidden pieces of advice. You had hoped that they would give you advice on what to do in this unfamiliar situation. But of course they were no help because that's just what this was; unfamiliar.

Like always, you are forced to discover on your own.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Current journal in hand, you walk the same path you did the day before. The same path that took you to the strange house. The house that was home to two strange men. Technoblade and Philza.

You walk that same path, relishing the blanket of sameness as you prepare yourself for what can only be a world of new.

The next thing you know, two familiar faces are walking beside you. A man with pink hair, and other other blond. One with dark red eyes and the other with pale blue. A gruff personality and a sunny disposition. Polar opposites. Yet friends.

Curious.

"Hello," unsurprisingly, it's the blond man that speaks first.

"Philza." Neither as statement not a question. Simply an acknowledgement.

And yet, he seems pleased. "You remembered my name!"

Even as you walk at a steady pace, you tilt your head to the side, his cheerfulness is baffling. "Of course. There aren't that many names to remember, anyways."

Techno sighs. And in his deep voice, he speaks. "About that, Phil and I want to introduce you to the others on the server."

'Others on the server' is such as strange word to hear. For too long, it's been only you. Only you and Time. Ever since....

You snap yourself out of your own thoughts. It's too dangerous there. Too dark and too addictive. It's an eternal trap. A prison built for an immortal. A prison made for you.

"I'd love to meet them." You don't even know if it's true.

And so, you are escorted to the populated part of the server. Right away, you see people. And right away, they see you.

A young boy with wild blond hair and blue eyes notices you first.

He looks like Philza, you observe.

"Phil! Techno!" he calls, running over. His exuberant shouts draw the attention of two more people. A boy with goat ears and another boy, tall with opposite colors. They start to walk over as well, spurred on by curiosity.

Philza chuckles at the blond boy's enthusiasm. "Hey, Tommy."

Tommy. Another name to add to your journal.

"Who's this?"

And there's the question. A question only you can answer. Can you? Philza and Techno certainly can't. Not well, at least. You met them yesterday. Exchanged a few words. A few sentences. No meaning behind the phrases. Simply pointed facts.

They know nothing about you. It's not a question for them. It's one for you. And yet, they both answer - in their own ways.

Techno grumbles, "And intruder."

Philza answers, "A newcomer."

Both are wrong. Incorrect. But you can't give the full truth. A partial one will have to do.

You hold out your hand for the Tommy boy to shake. He does.

"I'm Y/n. And I'm new to this part of the server. And you are?"

You already know his name, but you do not know him. You never will. You'll never actually know any of them. It's against the rules. Against what you know should be done. But for the sake of your records, the Chronicles, and the Archives, you need to be able to document as much as possible.

So you ask. And you listen to the answer.

"I'm Tommy. I'm Philza's son and Techno's brother. And also Wilbur's, but I don't think you've met him yet."

He speaks really quickly. But you still understand what he's saying. Easily. And he speaks of his family with such ease. No strings attached. A simple fact. 'I have a family and this is who they are.' Nothing more and nothing less.

"I haven't met him. I haven't met anyone else, really." And to keep the conversation going, for the sake of your records, you added on. "But I'd love to."

As if summoned to two boys from earlier walked up. The ones that noticed Tommy's shout alone. The one with the goat ears and the one with opposite colors.

The two new boys, much like Technoblade, are obvious hybrids. And you've been around the server long enough - you definitely have- to know what they are.

Technoblade is a piglin hybrid. The shorter boy with fluffy brown hair and goat ears is obviously a goat. And the taller boy. The one who seems to be split in half between black and white, he's an enderman hybrid.

The goat-hybrid introduces himself first. "Hi! I'm Tubbo. And you are?"

It's getting exhausting saying your name so many times. After not saying if for so many centuries.... It sounds like a foreign symphony. Beautiful, but still strange. Strange only for its unfamiliarity.

It's not unwelcome, though. It's a wonderful feeling to hear one's own name. Strange, but wonderful.

"I'm Y/n. Nice to meet you."

Tubbo nods, smiling. He seems cheerful like that. But he steps aside to make room for the other boy. The tall one.

"I'm Ranboo. Nice to meet you, Y/n."

The black half of his face has a blue eye. The white half has a green one. And he’s tall. Very tall. Towering over you by at least a head. But you are not intimidated. You are a god.

You nod. “And what about this place, what’s it called?”

"L'manburg."

A funny name. A strange combination of sounds. But that's all names are, anyways.

When you wrote that name in your notebook later that night, you didn't realize how often it would be scrawled across the pages. For good reasons and horrific, sickening reasons that would leave you haunted for the rest of your immortal life.

Still blissfuly unaware, you walked to meet some other members of the server. Other residents of L'manburg.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The fading sun casts everything in red. The color reminds you of blood, the bleeding orange reminds you of fire.

But the scratches of your quill against the ivory pages of your journal are a different sound entirely. It's a unique sound. Unlike anything and everything else. Completely its own. You wish you had the luxury.

But as the day fades to night, you let your memory take over. You let everything flow from mind to quill to paper. And you fill out another entry of your journal. Another piece to add to the Chronicles of Time. Another piece for the Archives.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

From the Notebook of Y/n, Keeper of Time:

I spoke to Technoblade and Philza Minecraft again. I walked the same route as I always do. But this time, they were there. Walking as if they had walked that path a million times before. Perhaps they had. I wouldn't know.

I was brought, by the two men, to the more populated parts of the server. They took me to L'manburg, the place where most of their friends live.

I learned that Technoblade and Philza are a family. Philza is the father and Technoblade is one of his sons. He has three children. Technoblade is the oldest, Wilbur is the middle child, and Tommy is the youngest.

Tommy is the only one that looks remotely like Phil. Wilbur has brown eyes and brown hair, as opposed to blond and blue. Technoblade is a pigling hybrid. He's adopted.

Their family dynamic is strange. They bicker and argue. They never seem to be truly affectionate. But yet, they do seem like a true family.

And Tommy has friends. Two boys that could be considered family. Tubbo and Ranboo. The underman hybrid and the goat hybrid. They have a special connection between them, those two.

But tomorrow, I'm going to continue exploring. I won't take the same route. I'll walk a little farther than normal. Maybe I'll find a new city. Maybe I'll meet new people. According to Technoblade, Wilbur, and Tommy, I will.

Someday, I will know them all. Someday I will be able to retreat back to the Temple and simply observe from the shadows. Someday, I will disappear once more.

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