#also this was from an email between james and

[daddy-ul]

I had asked James to write a bit about what 72 Seasons meant to him. But even before we received that, Lars shared that James did say one thing he thought was particularly interesting, which was “prisoner of childhood.” So Lars was the guy who distilled a lot of what James had to say into a phrase that became extremely powerful for us creatively. It was a brilliant synthesis of all the ideas behind 72 Seasons in three words.

-David Turner about the concept art and design of 72 Seasons

#metallica #72 seasons #james hetfield #lars ulrich #so what! #david turner #(d)jinn all'opera #yeah yeah i got around reading it just now #AND I'M SHARING THIS #bc i am so damn predictable. hence the tag... #jh and lu #an xl kind of friendship #GET YOURSELF A FRIEND WHO LISTENS TO EVERY WORD YOU SAY AND GIVES IT BACK DISTILLED #and let me tell u. jhet is not very verbose so to summarise his concepts... not bad #also this was from an email between james and #dt but ofc Lars also read it? maybe he heard james talking abt? and then of course he hit the nail abt what was the essence for his friend #dont look at me. i am not normal abt this and yall know it well #jinn out #soph. if you see this..... THEM. RIGHT???? /THEM/

[ew-selfish-art]

DP x DC AU: Tim had heard the phrase 'The wrong twin made it home' a number of times in his life, his parents were always very upfront about how the felt towards him. But... 'made it home' doesn't indicate death, does it? ...Tim ends up taking Danny's place by Sam's side in front of Congress to lobby the end of the Anti-Ecto Acts.

...

Tim has been up for hours passed when he told Alfred he would be resting and he's wrapped up his case files into neat little bows to deliver to Babs and the GCPD/Lawyers to do their jobs. Damian had made a comment earlier in their patrol that night about Tim being the wrong sibling to make it to his rescue and... and it got him thinking about that phrase. His parents were negligent with him, certainly, but they were always very clear about how he stood in their eyes. Praise and criticism were the two options, and very strictly limited passes of 'I love yous' that faded as he got older.

He's run his DNA before in the national databases- it was critical for maintaining his Alias' that multiple people didn't flag- but he's never searched in records before. About his twin. About the one who didn't make it home.

And its definitely the lack of sleep, and definitely the lack of brotherly affection he feels these days, but Tim just can't close the door until he's seen a death certificate. He's hacked Gotham General Hospital a million times for work, but doing it for his own gain feels wrong some how and he works with extreme caution. He finds his own birth certificate and... One Theodore Daniel Drake.

Tim snorts with a short ha, pretentious name alert and goes on to find not a single certificate of death or medical record of atypia. Oh no, what he finds is adoption paperwork meant to be closed to all wondering eyes and one Daniel James Fenton leaving the hospital instead. Tim blinks a few times, retraces his steps and then sure enough, learns for a second time that his TWIN was still alive.

Finding the Fentons was easy enough, their Lab address on all of their patents was seemingly also their home address. Danny had a much better hidden internet presence, it was good cybersecurity he'd have to praise him, but Tim had been trained better. Getting into his brother's files... Raised a number of new questions. Why was he compiling evidence against the government? What the fuck was he doing analyzing policy? Why did he have 'rogue' files???

Then Tim hacks into Danny's phone (he's learned at this point that Daniel was a no-go) and sees the conversations between his twin and his twin's best friends.

Sam Manson has an appointment with a Senator to Lobby for the end of the Anti-Ecto Acts. She wants Danny to join her, demonstrate something Tim can't determine, but he's refusing to leave and let his adoptive parents have even a moment to develop a new weapon without him there to destroy it. Someone called CW warned him about changes coming his way or something cryptic. Tim learns a lot from their back and forth, but stops reading once it gets to their personal squabbles.

Tim gets the meeting details and forwards it to Tam- If Danny can't make it... Tim will. And if Tim can't demonstrate whatever Danny was going to, it would at least help to throw around his name.

Tim writes an email to Danny- It's meant to go out after the lobbying appointment- and it explains that Tim found out about him and wants to connect if Danny does, and if Danny doesn't he at least wants to get him set up with his half of the Drake family inheritance. He includes a few personal facts, including that he too ended up adopted in life and had siblings, that he helped run a company and took on the world too soon. It takes a lot out of Tim to be so candid- but he doesn't want Danny to be too blindsided by the Waynes. He attaches a family photo with the label "you'll be able to tell which one is me'.

...

Sam is tapping her stupid, uncomfortable heels waiting for these dumbass, elderly politicians to get their shit together so she can speak. Sam was resourceful and surprisingly, the second she took on politics as a way to waste the family money, her mother Pamela was all for it. She's wanting Sam to run for president now... At least she doesn't complain when Sam organizes protests.

The door behind her opens, and while she knows its not going to be Danny behind her, a girl can feel a bit crushed. She really thought he would be behind her today, but Danny was being weird about this whole thing. Clockwork had him spooked about something changing today, and Danny wanted to be in Amity Park in case it was another Pariah situation or something. His parents had been on edge lately too...

"Sorry, I'm not late am I?" A voice asks and it's just so close but not- Sam turns her head to see Danny in a nice suit with long hair and eyebags way darker than she'd seen on him in a while. This... Wasn't Danny. She blinks, and then something in her anxiously decides that the universe is fucking with her and she will be fighting back.

"Everyone is late." She glares at him, appraising his every move. The woman behind him is typing dedicatedly on her tablet and the man himself looks like he might fall over while he shuffles his files in hand.

"Well, then I'm on time. My name is Tim Drake, I'm here to help your cause in getting the Anti-Ecto acts repealed and the parties responsible for it apprehended."

"Tim Drake? As in-"

"As in Co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises. And I've done a lot of research, so I hope you'll let me play a supportive role while you speak."

"There's no way you've been able to research if you've been out of Amity, The whole city is under a media blackout." Sam's glare looks like it could cut him.

"Not to brag, but that sort of thing doesn't slow me down these days. I've made physical copies of the things they're most likely to delete and I've sent everything to the Justice League, who in turn are sending it to the Lantern Corps." He states matter-of-factly and Sam finally stops being angry at the world to just be... stumped. What the hell was going on?

"How did you... Why?"

"Tam, tell Ms. Manson how passionate I am about human rights?" The guy sounds anxious, the woman rolls her eyes and says "Very." without stopping her typing.

The doors open and Sam has only a moment to decide that Tim can join her... He proves himself to be an asset, and his name alone gets them further than she had anticipated getting today.

....

Danny is watching Sam walk into the space via C-span, gasping when his own likeness follows behind her. What the fuck???

He can barely drag his eyes away as the clone (?) introduces himself as Tim Drake and proceeds to rip them into shreds for delaying Sam Manson of all people. Danny is transfixed and Tucker is blowing up his phone.

"DUDE ARE YOU SEEING THIS?" Tucker's voice loudly calls out the second danny blindly answers.

"Dude, I just, I don't even know? He cant be a clone right? But he's gotta be?" Danny hypothesizes.

"Nah dude, there's like, a whole lifetime of media presence for Tim Drake since he was like, tiny. This is so weird he looks just like you..."

"This is so weird." Danny dumbly agrees because he can't think of anything else to say.

Sam finishes her points, Tim submits the evidence to the court and they leave. Danny's phone pings with an email notification.

"Danny my guy, you should check that, Sam isn't responding yet. Her phone is probably still off."

He follows Tucker's advise and opening his email... Is a new message from Tim Drake.

"...I don't know what the fuck is going on?" Danny continues to say, and Tucker asks him just to read it out loud, "It's just... Apparently I am both adopted and a twin?"

"...My guy." Tucker sounds just as much at a loss.

...

Sam calls them both after Tim Drake is rushed away by his PA Tam (who she found herself admiring more and more), and is relieved when they dont immediately answer by screaming.

"So Danny, Tucker, you guys are traveling with me next weekend." Sam deadpans.

"Apparently shit gets twilight-zone level weird anytime you leave Amity!" Tucker exclaims.

"...What's next weekend?" Danny asks, hesitation in his voice.

"Your twin invited us, well, mostly you, to a Wayne Family Brunch. We're going cause those assholes have money and political influence, you're going because we all probably need to know what the fuck is going on with that guy."

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc crossover #dp crossover #long post #tim and danny are twins #twins au #ehehehe could go in so many directions

[kquil]

POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PART 5

05 : DRUNK AND CIGARETTE SMOKE

SUM : It’s been a few weeks and James makes a reappearance in your life, Remus too — they’ve fallen into bad habits. 

G. : modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist james potter ; piercer remus lupin ; remus smokes ; drunk james ; reader is sad ; this is a little sad chapter ; fergus is an amazing, lovable manager ; i’m horrible at writing the scottish accent! ; james is an adorable drunk ; james’ car is sexy and red ; remiss has eye bags and smells of cigarette smoke ; uh oh ; it’ll get better soon! 

LENGTH : 2.8k

← PREV. : 04 | DISAPPEAR

You stare in disbelief at the notice that stares back at you mockingly from behind the glass door of the ‘Marauders Tattoo Parlour’. 

‘NOTICE’ it said in bold red sharpie, right above a handwritten message that you recognise as Remus’ neat penmanship, ‘due to personal reasons, Prongs, Padfoot and I (Moony) will be keeping the parlour closed until further notice. We kindly ask that you remain patient as private matters are being sorted through and resolved. We are still open for online and phone consultations to discuss designs and potential future appointments. Kindest Regards, The Marauders’. Beneath the polite and brief explanation of current circumstances was a business email address and phone number as well as working times for phone calls. 

The weeks following your discovery of the boys’ true relationship, you rarely ever passed their parlour. A little over three weeks has passed now and you’ve finally been able to walk past their studio doors close enough to read the notice. You’re frozen in place as dread and worry cultivates shards of sharpened ice to grow within you. Freezing up your senses, freezing up your mind and freezing up limbs. Yet, your heart is racing like never before, your blood pounding against your ears like a drummer gone mad. 

The feeling that settled in your stomach wasn’t a pleasant one, especially when you felt completely responsible for the boys’ sudden hiatus in business. They had often talked to you about how much the parlour meant to them, how it was their best investment and remains their biggest source of opportunity — an opportunity to help people express themselves. It’s a form of freedom that many have been deprived of (themselves included) and they were honoured to now be able to provide that same freedom to others. For them to completely close up shop like this was completely bizarre. 

How long have they been closed for?

You bite your lip and will yourself to move your feet, the ice in your limbs breaking uncomfortably, shattering into a million knives of ice, shooting pins and needles up your arms and legs as if your blood had been frozen up too. As you walk away, you slip your phone back into your pocket, where your hands also remain. 

While contemplating what could have happened to your favourite tattooists and piercer, you made sure to save a picture of their business phone number onto your photos. 

You were never able to call their business number. And you had many excuses lined up to absolve your cowardly behaviour. The main one being that it was their business number, it wasn’t meant to be used for a conversation between friends. Were you even still friends at this point? The thought made you shiver and stole the appetite right from your stomach. It was a greedy little thing cowardice, regret too. They’ve stolen many things from you, your appetite was their favourite thing to purloin, motivation another, happiness as well. Nasty, selfish and greedy thieves. But you weren’t brave enough to confront them and make them stop. And that, alone, makes you their willing accomplice — so who’s really to blame? 

It didn’t help that through this entire ordeal, you’ve realised that none of the boys have exchanged phone numbers with you. To say that you were bitter was an understatement. If they never gave you their number, why would they want you ringing them in the first place? 

…maybe they didn’t have a reason to? You couldn’t remember a single time after the day you first brought them that homemade ‘thank you’ lunch where you hadn’t seen them on a regular basis. And now that you were used to seeing them almost daily, your life has since been bleeding of colour and vibrance. Days are dull and monotonous, it’s hard to motivate yourself to do pretty much anything, let alone your job.

“Yer’ve been sighin’ so much these days, I’m startin’ to see wrinkles forming’ on yer cute lil’ face lass,” Furgus comments, nudging your hip with his own as he passes by you behind the counter. 

Flustered, you scramble to get back to work with a quick apology, evidence of your embarrassment heating up your cheeks as you do so, “I’m so sorry Gus,”

With hearty laugh, the burly Scottish man pats you on the back and whispers some reassuring words, “Yer’ve got nothin’ ta worry about lass, I jus’ wan’ed ta see if you were al’ight is all,”

“I’m okay,” you smile grateful for his care only to be met with suspicious eyes and a deep, bearded frown. 

“Don’t grow a habit o’ lyin’ ta me lass, it won’t do ya any good,” his words make more heat rise to your cheeks but you reassure him as best as you can in between taking orders and serving drinks. It was no use however, Fergus saw you as his own daughter, he knew you like the back of his hand and you know that he had his suspicions of your odd behaviour lately — all derived from a sadness he didn’t like you wearing. Thankfully, he decided to leave you alone with your sorrow and regret and focused back on managing the pub. Tonight was pretty average, you saw the regulars and greeted them with a friendly smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes; if any of them noticed, they never said a thing about it to you. Thank god. 

It seemed like it would be another regular night until you caught sight of a familiar figure in the corner of your eye. You had just gotten back from your break when you spot James at a far table, nursing a pint and buried under a sheet of suffocating misery all on his lonesome. 

“James?” you breathed in disbelief with a wide-eyed stare directed right at him. 

“You know that guy?” Bonnie, your coworker, asks in a whisper into your ear and you had no choice but to nod your head in confirmation — you’ve already outed yourself, there was no point in lying, “well he’s been drinkin’ himself to death for the past hour or so, what’s gotten into him? D’ya know?”

“No…” you’re a liar. 

“Well ya be’er find out or else imma have ta kick the poor bastard outta ‘ere,” Fergus comments, his arms folded over his large chest and his brows knitted together in disapproval. 

“May I—…?” you begin to ask softly, sending a curious look towards Fergus who meets your eyes with a small smile and a wink. 

“Consider yerself off fer da night,” with a smile, you thank him and take a breath before making your way over to the miserable tattooist. 

“Angel!” James smiles happily at the sight of you, his drunken state adding an adorable dopiness to his already charming grin, “It’s you~” he coos and wraps his arms around your middle to bury his face into your stomach when you were close enough, “I missed you so much, angel~” he sighs, his voice muffled by your clothes as he refuses to detach himself from you, “even if this is just another dream…” you barely hear him and you almost curse yourself from being able to because his words make your heart drop to your stomach. 

“James,” you ask softly, “can you please get up?” 

“Why?” he shuffles to press his chin into your lower belly and stare up at you with those sweet hazel eyes of his. The sneaky bastard, he knows how weak at the knees you become from his simple stare. You’ve never told him so and often put in the effort to not show it but you know, he knows. 

“Because you need to go home,” he gives an incredulous look at your reasoning and he’s adorable doing so, even in his drunken state. 

“Why would I need to do that when you’re right here?” he slurs and hiccups, your heart pounding erratically at his words.  

“James please—”

“No!”

“James—”

“‘m not going home! I wanna stay here with you,” he presses his face into your stomach again and sobs into your clothes, “you’re gonna disappear again,” he sobs miserably, “I don’t want that…” 

“Please just let me call you a taxi James?” he doesn’t respond, pressing his face further into your stomach as you comb your fingers through his dark hair, you touch gentle and comforting, coaxing him into some compliance, “remind me of your address again and I’ll call you a taxi, okay?”

“NO!” 

You suppress a defeated sigh. 

It takes several minutes of coaxing until you’re finally able to take his phone from him. He refuses to let you call him a taxi and you weren’t going to force him to walk home alone in his drunken state so you’re going to have to do the one thing you can think of that’ll guarantee his safe return home. Not that you’ll enjoy it because it means confrontation. 

“Can you tell me your passcode, please, James?” you ask in a gentle whisper, only to him, “I need to do something very important on your phone,”

With a large smile he recites the digits, “22nd of the 6th, 17,” the way he says it makes your raise a brow. Sensing your curiosity, James answers your silent question, “is the day Moony, Pads and I became official,” he giggles adorably to himself as you smile somewhat sadly — another reminder that you should stay away. You don’t say anything to prompt him further and, instead, type in the code before looking through his contacts. It takes you a moment but you’re eventually pressing call and waiting patiently for Remus to pick up.

“…James?” Remus’ familiar, kind voice speaks tiredly through the phone and you don’t know whether to breath a sigh of relief or worry, “Hello?”

It takes you a moment but you finally will yourself to speak, “Hey, um, Remus?” 

“…Dove?” he’s in complete disbelief and it’s evident in his voice, “Is that really you?”

“uh…yeah,” you chirp sheepishly and Remus is all forms of elated but his excitement dwindles quickly when he realises how you’re able to call him. 

“Why do you have James’ phone?” you were right to call him, knowing that he was preceptive, reasonable and easy to talk to even with the tension in the air. Patiently, you explain the situation, never taking your fingers away from James’ hair as he practically purrs into your form, adoring the physical contact and muttering to himself happily. It’s especially loveable like this, considering that it’s him being dopey and giggly and not anyone else.

“Oh…” Remus sighs, clearly disappointed, “I’m so sorry, darling, I’ll get him right away,” 

“It’s no trouble, Rem,” it was hard not to cringe when the familiar nickname easily rolls off your tongue. As if nothing happened — oh how you wish for such a reality!

“Just tell me where you are and I’ll be right over,” you don’t know if you’re just imagining it but there’s a considerable shift in his voice, he sounds much softer after hearing his nickname easily fall from your lips. 

“We’re at the Boar and Elephant pub on Chapel Road,” 

“Alright, I’ll be there soon,” with a click, he was gone and you were left to keep James satisfied until he got there. It wasn’t an overly tough job; James seemed perfectly content nuzzling into your stomach with his arms hugging you in place as your fingers massage his scalp and gently groom his hair. He’s like a puppy, eager to receive affectionate cuddles and pets. If he had a tail, he’d be wagging it like crazy and you giggle to yourself at the mental image it conjures up. 

“I missed that…” James mutters, maybe to himself but it wasn’t clear.

“I’m sorry?”

“I miss the sound of you giggling,” you don’t know what to say but he continues, going off on a tangent, “it’s so pretty, you’re so pretty. It’s like the sound of a cute little bell ringing…so pretty— pretty pretty pretty!” you can’t lie to yourself, he’s absolutely precious, “I miss you so much angel, why did you go away? I don’t want you away, I want you with me, and with Remus and with Sirius too…” he murmurs something into your stomach that you weren’t able to pick up but don’t press him further on the matter, fearing that your heart might just about burst if you do. You can’t afford to hope for such a fantasy with them when it could never become a reality. 

It just wasn’t possible…

“Not fair!”James whines, making grabby hands at you as Remus, with the force of a gentle giant, manoeuvres him into the back seat of a red Jaguar XJR. Dealing with a defiant baby was a struggle so dealing with a giant, beefy baby like James Potter was like trying to control a hurricane. But Remus had a magic touch and arguably had more of a silver tongue than Sirius did so he made it look like a walk in the park. It was astounding, “I wanna be with my angel!” James sobs as Remus closes the door on him, putting a stop to James’ needy cries. 

“She’s not yours, she’s no one’s,” was Remus’ response even though he had already closed the door, James unable to hear him and the hint of dismay coherent in his tired voice, “thank you for looking after him, Dove, you’re always too kind,”

“N-no, don’t worry about it,” he smiles down at you, silence filling up the space between your two lonely figures under the amber lamplight. He doesn’t seem to mind the hush in conversation but knowing that his eyes were fixed on you was unnerving, “so! Is that your car?” you ask, desperate for a change in conversation; your restless fiddling making your intentions obvious but Remus keeps to himself. 

“No, no, it’s not mine,” he answers with a short chuckle, “this is James’ car,”

“Oh…” you hum to yourself thoughtfully, eyes carefully examining the body and model of the car, “I see,” it looks like a car James would have, you think to yourself. There was more silence until Remus finally brings himself to commence your farewells. 

“Well I suppose I should head off, I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” your heart stutters, almost to a stop, at his words, even more so when you see him hesitate upon leaning down. A victim to your own habits, you find yourself closing your eyes and awaiting his gentle kiss goodbye against your temple.

…But it never comes.

“Goodbye then,” he calls over his shoulder, and rounds the car to get to the driver’s seat. 

“—Do you smoke?” you suddenly ask, in some part desperate to extend your interaction with each other and other parts curious of the lingering cigarette smoke you smell on his clothes, masking his usually comforting fragrance. It’s strong enough that you were able to catch it from your formal amount of distance with each other and it struck you as odd. You had never seen him smoke before. 

Remus laughs a brief and strained sound as he looks at you from over the hood of the car, did he always have such deep eye-bags? “Not usually,” he sends you a sheepish smile once you’re finally able to meet his eyes, “but I’ve recently taken to it again,“ he sees worry and grief fill your eyes and hurries to correct himself, ”—But don’t worry, Dove,” his features are gentle and kind, warm and… forgiving, “I’m okay,” 

The world slows as you watch him bend his head to sit in the drivers seat. It’s been too long. For you, at least. This can’t continue. It scares you to think about where this may go if you leave it to late. It’s only been three weeks! If this is the result…you dread to think about what would happen if things went on for longer than that. James is drinking himself to death. Remus is smoking cigarettes. What about Sirius? Your stomach twists uncomfortably, painfully, your heart too. 

“No! You’re not!” you shout, tears of anger welling up in your eyes as Remus stops and looks over at you once again, his breath hitching when he sees your eyes glistening with tears, “you’re not okay…” 

“Dove—”

“I’m coming by tomorrow,” you announce, “at lunch,” this was a commitment you’re making, a commitment to him, to them. Even if you’re heartbroken, that doesn’t give you the right to be a bad friend. You brave a watery smile, “I’ll make your favourites…so you better be there!”

→ NEXT : 06 | SELFISH DESIRES

A/N : i’m so sooo sorry for my depiction of the scottish accent, i really tried my best, please don’t hate me! if you have any ideas of how i could make it better, please say so, i’d really appreciate it. Also, i know that this isn’t completely fluff but we’re getting there, you’ll have to wait and see in the next chapter! 

NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS MASTERLIST

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88

@ghostgardn @mess-is-my-aesthetic @zesnuts @enamoredwithbella

@susyelectra @fangirlninja67 @pagesfalling @thepunisherfrankcastle @axeofwars @imarimon @in-love-with-4-marauders @chicken-taco-burrito @valencia-rou @feast0nmeee @lestat-whore @hvmxjjk @twilightlover2007 @diaryofabiwoman @woohoney @celestialfantasiess @willbedecided @lovelyygirl8 @iiirhiane-g @mangodamochiii @queerqueenlynn @l3xiluve @brain-has-left @bunbunbl0gs @kneelforloki @citrusiove @virtualbuni @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @that1nerd-20 @wolfstar4everbitches @skepvids @dearmy-diary @littledollfacebaby @mylifeisnothing @em16cor @krazyk99 @imdoingbetternow @realalpacorn @remussbitch @swiftieeras1989 @lonely-nerd-sodaholic @canthavetoomuchchaos @rckstrbee @b-i-h-i @ennycutie @kneelforloki @theteaobsessedbug @padfoot1313 @d1gital-data @venezsuwayla @melllinaa

#poly marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #james potter #remus lupin #marauders #remus lupin x you #james potter x you #heroes in tattoos series #marauders x reader #poly marauders x you #poly marauders #marauders x you #marauders fic

[luveline]

do you have anything more from office frenemies with james? i just read it and i loved it so much

yes! love u ty

—you and James don’t get along until you kind of, sort of do. fem!reader, 1.5k

James listens to the most obnoxious playlist in the mornings. There’s about a fifteen minute window between when he arrives and when the workday officially starts, which coincides exactly with your window. He often gets the same elevator ride, walks a pace beside you, and decides whether he’s going to let the ‘lady’ go first through the door depending on the day. 

That morning, he’d opened the door widely, grinned at you with music blaring loud enough to make a normal person deaf from his earphones, and let you pass. Then he pretended to stick his foot out to trip you up, pulling it back at the last second. 

Jerk, you think, angry even now as he tucks himself into his desk, his earphones still ridiculously loud. He actually, genuinely, is going to get hearing damage. You’re not being bitter. Human ears aren’t meant for that. 

You click onto the workplace Outlook and open a tab on your desktop. How loudly can you listen to music? you google. A few articles appear straight away that fit your purpose —you drag them each into an empty email. Then, smiling to yourself, you find an article on the negative effects of workplace noise pollution and how this sort of selfishness can affect your coworkers’ mental health and add that at the very top. 

To: [email protected] 

Hi James, 

please find attached a few articles I felt might be important for you to read.

Worst, 

Your unhappy adjacent desk. 

You know he’s received it when he laughs loudly, turning down his music with a few quick clicks on his phone. 

An email comes through to your inbox shortly after.

Hi bestie, 

I’m so so sorry for the noise. Please find attached a few articles I, in turn, felt you might enjoy. 

Best, 

James Potter :) 

He’s attached an irksome variation of articles. Why music can help you get ready for the day. Ten ways workplace friendships are important. Can you really find your soulmate at work? 

You open your personal messaging system. You tend not to use it with James, but this morning he’s winding you up. 

I could report you to HR for that last one, you send. 

He replies quickly. You try very hard not to look up at him from over your desktop. I didn’t mean me. 

You’ll be deaf by thirty. 

Jealous you don’t have such great taste in music? 

Jealous of everyone in the annex. 

Want a cup of coffee?

You meet his gaze finally over the computer, find him already looking at you. You shake your head scornfully. In what world would you ever want him to make you a coffee? He’s never actually offered to make you one before, to be fair, but he’s awful to you so what are you supposed to think? He’ll probably poison it. 

He stands to leave. Remus, the other accountant to complete your trio, arrives while he’s gone with his boyfriend Sirius in tow. They’re also James’ best friends, unfortunately. It makes for some awkwardness. 

“Where is he?” Remus asks you, in the midst of a quick goodbye kiss before Sirius makes his way to his desk further down the office. 

You nibble your lip and give a dispassionate shrug. You hate talking about James. You hate his stupid mess of hair, his reading glasses, his lips when he smiles crookedly and worse when he’s glaring at you. You hate the way he sighs as he clicks his neck, the quick lap he does every other hour complaining of tired legs, the genuine tenderness he shows you whenever you’re sick. You hate James. You don't like to think about him too much lest you get caught, a fish in a net.

Or a fish with a painful hook in its lip. 

“Ah, you’re here,” James says, two cups of coffee in his hand. 

You’re only a little heartbroken when he puts one on his desk and one on Remus’. Didn’t want one anyways. 

Remus grins as James comes up behind him for a rough hug and hair ruffle. “How was last night?” 

“I wish you’d come. Sirius spent all night trying to out drink Marl, you know he can’t, so I spent all night holding his hair out of his face. I wasn’t gonna talk to him this morning, but he was being very pathetic.” 

James laughs. You pretend you aren’t listening to them, pretend you don’t feel left out even if they have no reason to be your friend, clicking at random things on your screen and scrolling through spreadsheets long finished and filed. “You know I couldn’t come, Moony,” —no point starting on their awful nicknames— “what if she needed me?” 

You still. She? 

“James, there’s not much you can do,” Remus says gently. He’s a quiet, soft sort of man, but they’re all so loud about loving one another. “You have to let her… you know.” 

You feel them both looking at you, your gaze steadfast on your screen. 

“Try not to think about it,” Remus says. 

“I’ve been distracting myself,” James agrees. 

Oh, you think. Oh. I’m such a dick. 

“You could go home?” Remus says, putting his face in his hand. “I could cover you.” 

“It’s too much work.” 

“I know, but, you know, I’ll do half, and you’ll only have half to catch up on when you come back.” 

You’re not sure who she is, and you very much still don’t like James Potter, but you're not heartless. He sounds awfully upset, fragility to his voice and a foreign balling of his fist by his hip. “Um,” you say, clearing your throat weakly, “well, with me and Remus, we could cover for you.” 

James’ face is unreadable, looking down at you. “You’d cover for me?” he asks. 

“Your work isn’t exactly hard, James.” 

“But you’d do it?” 

“How long will you be off for?” 

James frowns. “Like, two days?” he says quietly. 

“That’s fine. We can do that,” you say, checking with Remus from around James hip. “Yeah?” 

“Of course,” Remus says quickly. 

James looks at you long and hard. “You’re not kidding?” 

“No, James. Not kidding. You’d do the same for me, right?” 

James leans down to hug you before you can stop him. His arms wrap around your shoulders, a perfectly amicable touch made up of sleeper muscle and the attractive smell of almond oil, nearly sweet, slightly woody. He laughs against your cheek as he pulls away, turning back to Remus for a similar hug. “Thank you. I’ll go tell Danny right now.” He beams at you. His relief is thick as honey, palpable in his warm tone. “Thank you.” 

You can’t look at him very long. 

The memory of his fingers linger, the weight of his arm behind your head. He excuses himself to go talk to your boss, and you and Remus sit in a semi-awkward silence, of which you’re wholly responsible. 

“His cat is dying,” Remus says eventually.

You wince. “Oh, no, really?” you ask. 

“He’s had her since we were kids. It’s really nice of you to do this.”

“I really do think he’d do it for me,” you interrupt. “I’m not, you know, cruel, because we don’t get on.” 

“I know. James knows that too.” 

You want to get defensive. Why does it matter if James knows? But Remus is too nice to argue with, and secretly, strangely, you’d wanted James to know you aren’t mean. You wouldn’t have sent him that email this morning if you’d known, and maybe this is apology enough for that. 

Still, it doesn’t feel right when James returns, gathering his suit jacket from the back of his chair. “Thank you guys, so much. I will bring you the most amazing desserts of all time as a thank you. I won’t even put your mug on the top shelf the next time I wash it,” James promises you. 

You bat aside the rage of knowing he’s the culprit and instead get out of your seat before he can leave. “Uh, James?” you ask. 

He raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?” 

You look at the floor by his shoes. “About earlier…”

James stands subtly between you and the bulk of the office. “You okay?” 

“I just– I’m sorry for complaining about your earphones. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive.” 

“You weren’t insensitive,” he says, “I was being obnoxious. Don’t worry about it, okay?” 

“I–” You hate yourself for all your stammering. “Hope whatever is wrong, that you’re okay. I’ll cover for you for the week if you need me to.” 

“Please stop feeling sorry for me. It looks weird on you. I much prefer you when you’re frowning, you get these super deep wrinkles in your forehead that I just love.” 

You turn away without looking up. “I’m gonna input all your sales information wrong.” 

“And I’m gonna bring you the best donut you’ve ever tasted to say thanks, sweetheart.” 

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

TOEING THE LINE ─── robert fischer ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “Love him. Love him and let him love you. Do you think anything else under heaven really matters?” — ‘Giovanni’s Room’, James Baldwin.

pairing. robert fischer x secretary!reader

summary. being robert’s secretary means doing everything for him. everything.

warnings. swearing, oral sex (m), creampie, p in v, mention of handjob, sex as stress relief, intimacy issues, quickies, crying, fluff, SMUT UNDER THE CUT! 

word count. 6.8k

a/n. honestly this is just downright filth. robert & reader’s relationship/the way they treat each other is also a little confusing so i apologize LOL

i. 

Being Robert’s secretary means doing everything for him: sending congratulatory gifts to his clients, picking up his drycleaning, answering his emails, and even booking his dentist appointments.

It means doing everything he asks, and everything you think he needs; he trusts your judgment, he said, because you know more about him than anyone in the entire world — even himself. 

It means doing everything for him. Everything.

Robert had heaved a large sigh as he sat down in the backseat of his car; undone his tie; ran a veiny hand through his gelled hair. From that much, you could tell he was stressed. You knew him like the back of your hand, and, after being his secretary for three years, you also knew what relieved him best.

Your lips are wrapped around his cock the moment he gets home. 

You were kneeling between his legs, hands curling around the base of his cock and stroking whatever you couldn’t fit - which wasn’t much, your throat having long since been trained to take his length all the way. 

Grunts and groans spilled out of his mouth above you, but you didn’t look at him; you never looked at him - he’d been adamant about that, when you first sucked him off. Robert never told you why, just that your gaze should never reach his; you thought it had something to do with his vulnerability, his parental issues rearing its ugly head in every part of his life, even his sexual one. 

Robert’s hands wrapped around your wispy locks, giving you a makeshift ponytail, and you flicked small licks on his tip before descending back down on him. His grip on your hair tightened, and as you curled your warm tongue along his shaft, he began to bob your head up and down on him, faster, harder, hard enough tears formed in your eyes. 

He was stressed, so he was rough. But you took it in stride: he was your boss, after all, paying you the big bucks for your service, be it actual secretarial duties or requests just a step away from prostitution. 

You gag, once or twice, on account of how brutally the head of his cock is bruising the back of your throat, and Robert slows down; stills like he’s nervous you’ll break, but you continue expertly, focussing on lapping up the beads of precome spilling from his slit. You breathed in and out shakily, ignoring the ache in your jaw. 

His hands then left your hair, instead fumbling for the armrests of the leather chair and squeezing down on them as his back arched and his head threw back: he was close.

When one of your hands left his length and reached down to fondle his balls, Robert let go, a stuttered moan leaving him, and he released his load straight down your throat. You felt it spurt and coat your mouth, wet and thick. The only thing left in the room was your breathing, his high and tinny, yours haggard and desperate for oxygen. 

After a moment, you got up, noting how tight your legs felt while wiping a drop of come from the side of your mouth with your thumb. “Rest up, Mr. Fischer,” you insisted gently, resuming immediate professionalism, “you have a nine-o-clock with the head of Proclus Global tomorrow.”

Between breaths, Robert finally looked at you with heavy-lidded eyes, buttoning his dress pants back up. “Saito?” he wondered aloud. 

You nodded silently in response. It was certainly odd to inform Robert about his schedule and meetings like you didn’t just have his hard cock in your mouth, but after three years it became part of the job. You reckon you could ride him and still arrange his doctors appointments by phone. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, Mr. Fischer.” You addressed him with that title, ‘Mr. Fischer’, to keep a distance. Despite what you often did for him, you still considered yourself just his subordinate; just his secretary. 

You then turned, kitten heels clacking quietly on his hardwood floor, primly and properly leaving his condo with the taste of his salty come still imprinted on your tongue. 

ii. 

By eight am sharp, you’ve returned to his condo. Robert would need a little more than what he got last night, especially since he’d be meeting Saito, like you said. 

You mapped out his habits and what he was like a long, long time ago. He’s got a higher-than-average sex drive, but no time to be in a relationship with anyone — thus, your duties. Blowjobs after a long day and a quickie at least five times a week are a must, and never, ever, kiss him. 

Robert’s… well, a slight sex addict, having to regularly fuck or get pleasured just to keep sane, but intimacy’s got him hiding under the covers like he’s just seen a ghost. You, on the other hand, can’t discern the difference between if you have sex and kiss or just have sex - it's both sex. 

It’s just a thing that needs to be done in the end, and in Robert’s case, it’s like eating or sleeping: he needs it to live, so he gets it and lives. Simple as that. There are no feelings between you two, and it’s been that way for as long as you’ve been his secretary. 

You entered Robert’s condo easily, having a key and all, where you then found him pacing in his large walk-in closet, fiddling with his rings. 

You knocked lightly on the wall to alert him, stepping in when he noticed you and visibly relaxed. “Good morning, Mr. Fischer.” you stated, setting his drycleaning down on one of the velvet settee benches in the middle of the room. 

“Morning,” Robert said absently. Without warning nor another word, he stepped closer to you, hands immediately pressing into your waist. His palms were sweaty, a feverish need radiating off him as he kneaded at you, pressing you against one of the many closet doors. 

He was nervous, no doubt the result of the impending meeting with Saito, which equated a frenzied mood sexually. So, you wasted no time, quickly unbuckling his trousers and unzipping his fly, letting your stockings pool at your ankles, hiking your skirt up to your hips. 

Robert’s hands grasped at your soft thighs, lifting a leg around him as one of your hands slipped down the waistband of his underwear, pulling his cock out. You pumped his length slowly, before spitting into your other hand, pushing your panties to the side and coating your cunt in the slick. You decorated your lips with the wetness, then carefully lined up his thick head with your entrance. 

You bit your lip, wincing as he pushed in; no matter how many times you’d fucked — which was plenty — you always felt that stinging stretch when he first entered you. 

From then on, Robert focussed solely on his own pleasure; on ridding himself of that anxious need, trying to fuck his insecure feelings deep into your cunt prior to seeing Saito. He grunted, a string of breathless curses leaving his mouth with every harsh thrust, just snapping his hips against yours repeatedly and chasing his high. 

Your face was pressed flat against the shoulder of his cashmere suit jacket, and you shut your eyes, letting Robert use you - use your hole, specifically. You’d asked him once why he didn’t just masturbate or use a sextoy, and he told you that nothing beats a hot, wet cunt. 

It didn’t matter to him what the girl looked like or what she cost, as long as her pussy felt good. That’s how he hired you: you’d spent an entire month by his side, and before returning to America from his vacation in Sydney, he confessed he’d never taken a cunt as delicious as yours. He didn’t have time to date, but he did have time for a secretary. 

That was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him, pleading for you to work under him, just so he could feel your plush pussy clenching around his cock once more. You’d never been a secretary before, but he promised you’d be taught, that the pay would be good, and that once he got married you could be whatever you wanted in the company - as long as, while you were still his secretary, you’d fuck him when he asked.

“Fuck,” Robert growled out near your ear, pounding mercilessly into your sopping cunt. Despite the selfishness of this quickie, him paying absolutely no mind to you, you couldn’t help how your mouth went ajar and your hips rutted into his. 

Robert had the best dick you’d ever fucking felt, average length but girthy, stretching you wide open. That first time you’d fucked, the one night stand, he kept telling you how tight your cunt was around his thick cock, and the next time after that, he remarked how you were just as tight as before. He was impressed, it seemed, how after each round of splitting you open with his dick, you always seemed to tighten back up.

You bit your lip, fighting back any moans from leaving your mouth, and focussed on gripping your arms around Robert’s neck. You noted how one of his hands dug into you soft thighs, pulling you toward him and sliding in and out of you desperately, like he’d never fuck again, while his other hand came up to the crown of your head, petting you softly. 

Though your mind was foggy with pleasure, you knew it was an out-of-character gesture: being gentle with you, acknowledging your presence rather than just your cunt. Robert wasn’t a romantic man - you didn’t think he knew how to romance someone, especially since his parents' marriage certainly wasn’t winning any awards for perfection.

So, just doing that had the gears in your mind turning. You’d fucked him for three years straight, and not for a moment did he ever do something like that. 

But then, as you were building toward an orgasm, that familiar pull in your stomach sending heat over your body, begging to go faster, Robert came, jetting his creamy load deep within you — and you forgot all about his odd actions. 

“Feel s’good,” he mumbled, fucking you still. You were unsure whether he meant his high or your cunt, but nonetheless, he came down from his orgasm by shoving his come deeper in your cunt with his length. 

Then, “What - time is it?” he said breathlessly, quickly pulling his softening cock out of your pussy and turning away so as not to face you. 

You blinked rapidly, leaning against the wall and trying to regain your composure, ignoring the grief swelling in your insides at the incompletion of your orgasm. “8– 8:10, sir.” 

Robert hummed in acknowledgment, still not looking at you as he redressed himself. You took in your boss’s form, how quickly his attitude changed from desperate to stone cold after sex; after receiving what he needed, like a fucking transaction, and you suddenly felt shameful: this here was one of the most powerful men in the world, owner of Fischer Morrow, and there you were, his secretary and fucktoy he could replace at any time. 

You weren’t special - you weren’t anything, especially not to him. If - no, when, he meets someone who pleasures him better, you’re out of a job. He said he’d help you when he got married, but you don’t think that’s happening anytime soon… and you know Robert: he’ll get tired of you, like the spoiled little kid he probably was, and will just find some other toy to play with. 

“I’ll be waiting in the lobby, Mr. Fischer.” you informed him numbly after pulling up your panties and stockings, shakily stepping out of the walk-in closet. It wasn’t often you felt like this - this being pathetic and used, because on the surface, this job was perfection. Good pay, good reputation, a boss who fucks you - and fucks you good. 

Sure, you could probably count on one hand how many times he made you come in these past three years, but it still felt nice, even if he never drove you past the edge. But, these days… you started wondering if this was the rest of your life. 

You couldn’t get a boyfriend, no, not without lying to him about what you did for a living, and there was still that uncertainty in the stability of this job. Robert had deep parental and intimacy issues - as stated by his therapist, in which, after eight weeks of seeing him Robert left in a fitful, teary, suffocating rage - and, beneath his cold exterior, was a hotpot of bubbling emotions he never deigned to reveal until he was seconds away from blowing up. 

In short: Robert was the most moody, unpredictable person you’d ever met, and working under him was like balancing on a tightrope. Because he never said what irritated him, always emotionlessly telling you to stop if he preferred you didn’t do something, you could never tell what was actually pushing all the wrong buttons. 

Before waiting in his condo’s front lobby like you said, you ducked into one of his many bathrooms and wiped the warm come dripping down your leg, flushing as you saw the ruined state of your panties and stockings: his white load had smeared all over the fabric, and, while you could get most of it off your dark stockings, it stayed on your underwear. 

You had to wear his come on your panties for the entire day, and in a way, it felt like Robert owned you. 

That’s why… you had decided to quit. You wrote your two weeks three months ago and have been holding onto it ever since — because you didn’t know how to tell him you wanted to quit, especially since your heart didn’t want to. 

Your head knew you were meant for more than secretarial duties and a quick fuck, but your heart ached for the lonely being that was Robert Fischer. That young CEO whose grievous relationship with his father was aired out in the newspaper, the man who went through succeeding the company as well as any young person could: fumbling, being crushed by the weight of his late father’s suffocating legacy, and the boy who didn’t know why he could never get his fathers love or approval. 

The heart wants what it wants, but the head knows best. You resolved to hand him your resignation by the end of the day, listening to your head, and got ready to leave this part of your life behind; to leave Robert Fischer behind. 

iii.

“What's this?” Robert asked in his office without looking up at you, gaze still trained on the papers he was signing. You had entered his office to deliver his mail and ask questions about various appointments - when best to schedule that lunch with his godfather, that kind of stuff. 

And… to hand him your 2-weeks. 

“It’s my 2-weeks, Mr. Fischer.” 

“…What?” Robert set his weighted fountain pen down, looking up in disbelief.

“I’m resigning, sir.” You said gingerly, gaze trailing away from his own, ignoring how his expression went from neutral to crestfallen.

“I pay you well enough, I’m sure?” He said, sounding frantic and not doing the best job of hiding it with the shaky smile on his face. 

“It’s not - about the pay. I’m just… I’m ready to do other things.” 

There it was: you didn’t want to wait until he got tired of you and kicked you to the curb. This job was fucking comfortable, and that unnerved you. Working diligently, fucking him diligently, saving up money your younger self would’ve never thought could ever come your way - it was comfortable and you were used to it, but you just… couldn’t take it anymore. 

You weren’t going anywhere like this. Not with Robert, not with your life, not with yourself. When you first took this job, you wanted to help him. Call it naive pity, but you thought the terribly mournful Robert Fischer could be fixed by getting fucked. God, your younger self had been out of her mind. 

So, here you were, three years later and resigning from one of the wealthiest men in the world, heart begging you not to, head wanting to leave immediately. 

Robert sighed, but nodded slightly. “Okay. Okay. I’ll send you your wages as soon as possible, and I can write a recommendation for your next—“

“There’s no need, Mr. Fischer,” you protested quietly. “My duties here weren’t exactly… just secretarial.”

Robert blanched, but agreed quietly. As you were about to leave, he spoke up. “Are you… free tonight?”

You tilted your head slightly, processing the topic change. “I have no plans for the evening, if that’s what you’re asking. I can come over after work—“

“No— no, not…” Robert grimaced, pressing two fingers between his eyes. “Proclus Global’s holding a charity gala. Tonight. Come with me; it’ll be your last event as my secretary.”

Your face warmed at your previous assumption he just wanted to fuck. “…Certainly, Mr. Fischer. There’s no need to ask, I’m obligated to agree.”

“I don’t… I don’t want to ruin any plans you have.” Robert’s lips pressed into a thin white line at your words. “If it - you don’t—“ He sighed, unable to say what he wanted properly, “You don’t have to say yes to everything I ask of you.”

“Work takes precedent, sir. You’re my boss - it’s only natural I follow orders.”

Then: “If that’s all,” you said, before promptly exiting his office, turning away and ignoring how crestfallen he looked. 

It was normal for you to accompany him to various events, seeing as he was single, and you were his hot, young secretary — and it was an expected duty of yours after the first time you went with him. 

You couldn’t figure out why his behavior had suddenly changed, why he’d become considerate— but perhaps it was because you were quitting. Although Robert’s emotional state was generally unpredictable, you supposed the professional part of him wanted to send you off nicely; have these last two weeks of yours not be soured. 

Anyway, it seemed inviting Robert to the gala was what Saito was here for - and, presumably, to add some pressure onto Robert, since their companies were rivals. Robert was always… bothered, you could say, prior to seeing Saito. 

The man made it a habit, consciously or unconsciously, to set Robert off, either by not-so-innocently referencing the late Maurice Fischer in their conversations, or by down right comparing Robert to him. It certainly wasn’t motivated by a personal grudge, no, Saito just wanted to see Fischer Morrow suffer, and for Proclus Global to rise. It was business politics, something you couldn’t - and didn’t want to - wrap your head around. 

The only thing you had in mind now was if you’d dressed up well enough: you had a small collection of gowns that you’d gathered over the years attending events with Robert, but every time, he gave you his card and told you to pick out something nice. You guessed that he was the kind of man who preferred to always show up in something new, something better — and that translated to whoever was perched on his arm.

That, being you, who’d bought a black satin and lace dress with a slit on the left thigh. You knew what Robert usually wore to these occasions, so you dressed accordingly - and it was an accurate foretelling, to say the least. When you’d entered Robert’s condo, he was standing in the lobby, strapping a Tudor onto his left wrist. He was head to toe in black satin, just as you were, hair neatly coiffed against his forehead. 

Your heels clacked loudly on the lobby tile, and he noticed your presence. “Black satin,” he scanned you up and down, “good.”

“Of course, Mr. Fischer.” You said politely, taking his arm when he lifted it up. The two of you headed to the car, and you didn’t miss how Robert opened the door for you first, like you really were his date for that night. 

His behavior throughout that entire day had been downright weird, and even more so now, because if you really pressed Robert, he’d tell you you were just a piece of eye candy for his clients to ogle over, so they’d lower their guards; get distracted and forget to pry him for information regarding the company. 

When you got to the event — which was taking place in a grand banquet hall in one of the many buildings Saito and his wife owned — a flock of people amassed, all greeting Robert and not-so-subtly alluding for him to head over to their table and discuss business matters. 

There were also various clients and colleagues of Robert’s who’d come over to catch up with the young CEO, and many of them commented, as usual, about the plus-one by his side. 

“And who’s this beautiful young lady?” One of the older men asked, raking his gaze all over you. It was clear as day: all of the men there were undressing you with their eyes. 

You didn’t shy away, however, instead smiling thinly. “I’m Mr. Fischer’s secretary,” you told the group, tilting your head slightly and baring your canines. They could stare at you all they liked, but you weren’t interested in letting them know much more about you than your position. 

It didn’t matter, anyway - finding out you were just his secretary made them see you differently. In whispered tones, they’d tell Robert they’d give anything to see you squirming beneath them, and he’d laugh a hollow laugh that didn’t reach his eyes and certainly didn’t come from the heart. To keep up appearances, buttering up his clients and letting them believe he was an easygoing guy, Robert would agree good-naturedly, but not without looking abashed, like he was too professional to actually ever breach that line. 

Like his hand hadn’t disappeared from your arm, trailing across your backside and groping the soft fat of your ass, digging into you. Like you hadn’t stroked his cock in the car, gently pumping him with your spit-slicked hand.  

You then broke away from Robert and the large group of businessmen to chase after a waiter who was holding a tray of champagne. In doing so you found out that Saito’s wife was, really, the main host of this charity ball when she, and several other women and wives of said business men, crowded around you, not unlike their husbands did to Robert. 

You greeted them kindly, blandly replying to their invasive questions: no, I’m just Mr. Fischer’s secretary, no, he is not accepting marriage proposals, sure, I can set up a meeting between you and one of our energy advisors if you give Fischer Morrow a call tomorrow. 

You let them talk circles over themselves, silently nodding, for Robert always reminded you to speak as little as possible. It would do no good for them to assume you and Robert were together —  they’d tear you apart. 

When the conversation drew its focus away from you entirely, you skittered away to find the waiter from earlier. An hour or two had passed since you’d arrived at the gala, and you indulged, letting yourself down a couple more glasses of that addictive drink. You were just about to grab one more, when you conveniently reunited with your boss and date for the night. 

Robert looked peeved, perhaps something to do with how boisterously Saito was laughing across the hall, and in a moment of quick thinking, you pulled him closer to you. “Mr. Fischer,” you whispered, voice tranquil, “if all has been accomplished for the night, I suggest we take our leave.”

He looked up at you, oddly, like he was seeing you for the first time. “Yes,” he agreed quietly, “yes… you’re quite right.” 

Without any goodbyes, the two of you swiftly hooked arms once more, and exited the building. The cool night air bristled around you, nipping at your skin, and Robert’s hands dropped from your arm, instead slipping into your own and keeping you close to him. 

At the car, he opened the door for you again, helping you in gently, before sliding in on the opposite side. When you turned to face him, he absently brushed something out of your hair with his long, nimble fingers. “Dust,” he said simply, peering deep into your eyes. 

You stared back at him, but your thoughts were elsewhere. He’d never toed the line like this before; 

he’d never looked you in the eyes so much, held your hand, plucked something out of your hair or pet you or held you so close — out of the context of sex —  that you could smell his cologne. He had never been so compassionate, so romantic, like this relationship of yours was organic and authentic, not transactional and emotionless. 

The car ride back to his condo was quiet. His hand did not find yours again, not even to hungrily snake up your thigh and under your skirt — Robert was frozen, staring out the window and nowhere at all meeting your gaze. 

Finally, when you got back to his place, you trailed after him — he trusted you to do what he asked and to do what you thought he needed, and that look of vexation he’d had before leaving only meant one thing to you: he was bothered, and a bothered boss does not mean good business. 

When you’d both entered his bedroom, Robert stopped, and turned to face you. His hands found yours, tenderly slipping his fingers into your own and pulling you close to him, and you backtracked. 

“Mr. Fischer?” You murmured, feeling how his rough skin brushed against you. “What are you… doing?” you questioned, your mind filled to the brim with the same question: what was Robert feeling right now? About you? For you?

He called your name out softly, like it was the only word he knew, shining blue eyes examining you intensely and flicking down to your lips every so often. “Don’t quit. I - I… need you.” 

Your brows knitted - so it was about your resignation. “Mr. Fischer, you don’t need me, you… you need sex, you need someone to - to fuck you—“ You protested, wrenching yourself away from his grip.

“No! No. I don’t need you like that. I need you, not - not your fucking cunt, I - can’t live without you.” Robert’s hands pulled you back to him, holding you close like you’d crumble into ash if he didn’t. 

Then, he kissed you, soft lips benevolently pressing into your own, long and deep like he was trying to melt into your touch. He was slow and chaste but there was a hint of desperation in his saliva, like he wanted to consume you, and you him. 

You pulled back, alarmed, your chests rising and falling in sync. Robert had kissed you; he had crossed the line he vehemently set, the line he commanded be kept in place. You blinked, mouth opening and closing, unable to form words. 

“Robert,” You said at last. Robert, not Mr. Fischer. Not Mr. Fischer, not now, not with how quickly his face had fallen from feverish to devastated. “you don’t think you love me, do you?”

Robert’s brows furrowed. “Think?” He repeated incredulously. “Do I think I love you— god, I… I do love you. I don’t think I love you, I know I’m in love with you.”

You looked at him dolefully, willing your heart not to beat out of your chest. “But why? I am certain you can’t answer that, Robert, because you don’t love me, you are - are merely feeling abandoned—“

“I love you because you know more about me than anyone in the entire world—“

“That is my job, Robert—“

“No, it’s not, and you fucking know it. You did more than I’ve ever asked of you: you know me, Robert, not Mr. Fischer, CEO of Fischer Morrow. You know me.” His finger dug into his chest, enunciating each point, and you couldn’t help the way his words swayed you - consciously or not. 

In your silence, Robert continued. “And - and, I adore the way you think, how you laugh and how you see the world, how - how you understand people, people who’ve never had someone take the time to ever fucking do that. How you care. So - so… stay. Stay by my side.”

In the kiss, you two had found yourselves perched on his bed, and he looked at you, lips bitten between his teeth nervously. “Please,” he murmured, hand coming up to your cheek and meekly tracing shapes on your skin.

“…I can’t do this. Not with you. Robert, you - you don’t fuck a woman you say you love then pretend you didn’t.” You replied, shying away from his touch like he’d burnt you. 

“I - I didn’t want to push that on you, not when - when we were…” he trailed off, hands leaving you and instead scrubbing his grimacing face. 

“What, when I was your personal prostitute?”

“Don’t say it like that,” he said weakly, but didn’t protest. “I just… I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to think it was just another part of the job.”

“Is it not?” You questioned, watching his expression change and flit through several emotions. “You’re telling me you love me, and you’re asking me to keep being your secretary. Robert, is this not just part of my job?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he pleaded. “It - you, can be more than that. You are the woman I worship and adore and - and will listen to, no matter what. So don’t leave.”

The words “me behind” did not come out of his mouth, but you felt it, like he etched it on your heart. Your eyes searched his own for even a semblance of fallacy — but it was so terribly real, truthful, that you felt a lump in the back of your throat form. 

You pressed your forehead to his own, trying to digest this information: the reveal of his feelings… and the remembrance of your own. 

His idealistic talk, his professions of love, his raw, long-suffering pleading made you remember the deep seated, stirring warmth in your heart that you’d beat to death all those years ago. 

You remembered the fondness you’d felt for a melancholy man back in Sydney, the man with the demure demeanor, the charming words; the man who you spent a month with, the man who took you on sweet dates, who wormed his way into your life like he belonged there; the man who fucked you slowly and graciously and cherishingly; the man who, at the end, had to go back to America, to the life he never talked about; the man who you wanted to explore a forever relationship with, but had offered you a job instead. 

“You love me?” you asked, vulnerability apparent in your tone. 

“More than anything in the entire world.”

“Then kiss me.” 

And Robert did, his hands sliding down your back to your waist, bringing you closed to him. This kiss was passionate, but patient and sheepish like you’d never kissed one another before. It was a sweet dance, all tongue and no teeth; curling around each other tenderly, desperately, like there was never going to be enough time in the world to express how you felt about each other, because you felt so infinitely. 

Your fingers carded through his hair, tugging lightly on his feather-soft locks, and his movements grew eager, gripping your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. “I’ve never wanted anything so badly as I did you,” he mumbled against your neck, pressing hungry kisses on the delicate skin. 

“I dreamed of this, in Sydney,” you told him, slipping off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt and dress pants, “I dreamed of forever together.”

He shrugged off the many articles of clothing, then began unzipping the back of your dress without looking, “I dream of us and forever without an end: you are my ever-present thought.” 

You paused your movements, looking at him squarely - though not without allowing your dress to fall off your shoulders - and pulling him into another kiss. “How could I ever have been content with just fucking you,” you murmured, more to yourself than him, “when these are the things you say to me?”

Finally, the two of you were reverently tossing and turning on the bed, completely naked and completely feverish, not just in lust, but in dizzying adoration and love for the other. Then, he was on top of you, holding himself up by the arms. His leg slotted between your thighs, your soaking wetness practically dripping onto him, and he could’ve fallen apart right then and there if not for your arm digging into his left bicep kept him grounded in reality.

His hard cock rested against your thigh, and after a moment longer of watching eachother intently, memorizing each and every feature you both had, he spread your legs wide and pressed his fat tip plush against your clit, introducing himself slowly. 

“Is this okay?” Robert asked, biting his lip and reveling in how good you took him, even if it was just the head. 

You looked at him blearily, barely registering his question, mind already losing itself to the pleasure he was inflicting on your cunt; how, the slower he was with you, the easier it was to completely succumb. 

“Yes, fuck,” you ground out, squeezing your eyes shut and sucking him in, his groans growing louder as he pushed the rest of his length in. 

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you blurted simultaneously to his various noises of pleasure, your fingernails digging deep crescent moon shapes into his back. 

“Best cunt I ever fucking had,” he grunted, hands gripping the sheets beside your head for dear life. He stilled for a few moments, letting you get used to his whole length in you — yes, when he’d fucked you all those times before, he was so desperate to come he hadn’t bottomed out his entire length in you, which… had already filled you to the brim. 

“M’gonna,” he shuddered, feeling your walls bear down on him suddenly, “gonna move now.” 

You nodded breathlessly, arching into his touch as he set a steady pace. He would drive into you slowly, teasingly, almost torturously, before suddenly pulling out, then thrusting into you regularly for a few moments, and finally starting all over again. It would’ve made you mad, if not for how sweetly he was handling you: his hand stroking your forehead shyly, gaze flitting over you like you were the only thing left in the entire world. 

Robert leaned down to your bare tits, brushing his wet tongue over your nipples, which had grown sensitive and erect. At his touch, you let out a small squeak, “Oh, Robert,” you keened, rutting your hips up into his own on instinct.

You could feel him smile against your skin, and then, he slipped one of your nipples into his warm mouth, suckling loudly and making you tremble. His tongue devouring your tits, his hips snapping into you, his hands caressing you gently; fuck, you realized, it was all too much, but still just enough. 

The way Robert fucked you was absolute perfection, the way he ravished and pleasured your body was heavenly; divine. Sweet moans left your mouth as Robert’s pace grew more frenzied, your sticky cunt making a sick squelching noise whenever he pulled out. You were like a fucking suction; even your pussy knew how delicious Robert’s veiny cock was, and held onto him desperately. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Robert sighed, pressing his face into the nook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “Your are the only one for me— fuck— its you, and only you.”

Though your thoughts were growing foggier, only focussing on feeling pleasure, you still had it in you to beam at his words, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him into a close embrace.

“Faster, please, god, I adore you,” you said after letting go, a string of words barely coherent. Still, you thought that even if you’d not said anything at all, Robert would have understood, for he began sliding his cock in and out of you rapidly. His hands found themselves at your hips, and he began pushing you up into him as he slammed down into your cunt. 

His thrusts drew breathy moans from your lips, and you could tell how swiftly it affected him, knowing his cock made you shudder and whine like that, writhing beneath him, because he commanded gently for you to: “Look at me,” he said, and you obliged, taking in those sweet, wet blue eyes, lashes fluttering as he blinked. He wanted to look at you, and he wanted you to look at him. 

“I’m looking,” you responded, barely able to speak. 

“Good,” he said breathily, “I wanna know what you look like when you come.” Then, his cock began pounding into you, not cautiously and delicately, like he had been earlier, but insatiably, unable to think of much else but making the woman he loves orgasm. You could count on one hand how many times Robert made you come, but it seemed that’d be the only thing he’d be thinking about for the foreseeable future: devoting his time to making the odds even. 

His words made your insides twist, the knot in your abdomen growing larger; it turned you on much more than you thought it would, for the notion of him coming in you because he wanted to, because he wanted to fill you with his seed and mark you as his, not just because he wanted to release and didn’t have time to clean it up elsewhere. Suddenly, you found yourself knowing the difference between sex with kissing, and just sex.

You hadn’t realized how close you were, steadily building toward an orgasm when your brain has turned off thinking and let you melt completely into the ecstacy, and only really comprehended it when Robert mumbled, “Jesus, you’re so wet, taking me so well,” and his praise sent you off the deep end.

Honestly, you couldn’t describe how it felt. You could, however, do so in comparison to your previous orgasms with Robert. Usually, it would feel good, but like it ended too fast. You’d conveniently orgasm when Robert came in you, and he’d drive out his high in your cunt, then pull out immediately. If you’d had your way, you’d keep him thrusting until you couldn’t take it anymore, wanting to drag out your blissful orgasm as long as possible.

That’s what happened here. The heat that encompassed your body was unfamiliar, but damn well fucking delectable, making your body buck up uncontrollably into his cock. You were high on the pleasure, drunk on his length, and he knew this, still gliding in and out of you. Your climax was like entering a deep pool: it took you over completely, and was a little hard to come out of. 

“S’good,” Robert mumbled, not unlike he did earlier that day, but you knew it was different. “Your face look s’fucking gorgeous,” he commented, mind growing fuzzy as he saw your expression change throughout your high. 

Your hands found themselves back in his hair, and you tugged him slightly so you could whisper in his ear. “Thank you, Robert,” you spoke warmly, though still panting, “for loving me. For letting me love you.”

You swore you saw light tears well in his eyes, but you couldn’t be sure, because he cocked his head back, neck clenching and his mouth falling open as he released his cream deep into your cunt, flush against your cervix. He let out a low moan as he climaxed, thrusts still coming but considerably slower. It felt like he’d been coming forever when his arms gave out and he finally went limp, falling down beside you. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” is what he said first, peering up at you and brushing an eyelash off your cheek. “I’d have loved you no matter what you did.”

Now you felt the waterworks coming. How was it, that through such a strained relationship and broken examples of intimacy, did Robert know how to be so sweet? Or was that just him, just how his thoughts came to him; was it just his instinct and nature that made him so darling?

Weakly, you slip your arms under his, combining the two of you in a sweaty embrace. The room smelt like come and sex, the lights impossibly bright and beaming down on the two of you uncomfortably, but you could deal with it— and everything, so long as you were with Robert. 

“If only I knew sooner how cheesy you were, Mr. Fischer.”

“Well, you’ll have the rest of your life to keep finding out… Mrs. Fischer.”

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #inception #robert fischer #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer smut

[onpurposeilovehimonpurpose]

Touching Tuesday - pt2 - Strong Henry

After King James states that he's read their emails, as intrusive and terrible as that must feel, Henry doesn't recoil at the knowledge that his grandfather read the things he said to Alex. Instead, he continues to be proud and strong and the whole time, Phillip is watching them. Perhaps he realizes that by reading them, there is no way that the king can deny his feelings for Alex, and hopes that he won't ask that. And the smirk they share as they check in with one another says so much more than words could. Also, Henry moves his thumb just barely, soothingly over Alex's finger, it's just a tiny movement, but the gesture makes me swoon.

The looks on their faces after the king acknowledges their love is genuine, even if they don't need the man's validation; they're trying so hard to hold back their happiness because they know they're just beginning the battle with him. Henry is so strong to do this in front of a man who hurt him and demanded his desires stay hidden. Their hands grip one another tightly, supporting each other the way they both need at that moment.

Watching Henry's movements and Alex's with their free hands. It shows their initial reactions to the King telling Henry that his responsibility is not to his heart, but to his country. Alex's reaction is so much smaller in comparison to Henry's, but it's those fingers of his, moving just a bit, as they tend to do whenever he has feelings he's unsure of. Notice Alex swallowing around the lump that probably formed in his throat when he took in what the king was clearly wanting from Henry. An agreement to deny the accusations. Henry's posture slumps a little, and he walks his fingers across his knee and then curls that hand into a fist, holding off the emotions he feels at the unfair expectations the king is pushing on his shoulders. But their joined hands never waver, they don't move at all.

Henry reacting to the king's ridiculous idea that they need to maintain the royal image, considering doing otherwise is out of the question, that he's allowing himself to react with a defiant expression is something he never would've allowed before, he would've controlled it. But then, before he can say anything, Alex questions the king. It's so incredible to me that Alex does this, ignoring the fact that the man is king, he's just another man whose bullshit beliefs should be questioned. It's clear neither one of them at this point cares that he's a king. He's just a man who wants them to repress their feelings, and their relationship and is willing to ignore the love he sees in front of him.

Now I want to talk about the touching and what it means for Henry to no longer hold Alex's hand. This man has taken all the comfort and strength that became a little feedback loop between them, and he's like... "I'm going to stand up for myself on my own right now because Alex doesn't deserve to be considered a problem and neither do I." He says, "You think you can make me get in line by fear or guilt and expectations? You think that I'm only questioning this crap because of the man sitting beside me who I love, who you know I love, is here holding my hand through this? You're very wrong about that." And he goes back to his habit of trying to twirl his ring (even if he's not wearing it) and he situates himself so that he's not so stiff, so that he almost appears like he's relaxing and that this conversation is casual, and he's unbothered.

RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE (2023) dir. Matthew Lopez

Henry asks his question, and he is saying, "You don't want Alex to have a voice, but I will help him have one because I will ask the same damn thing and wait for you to give me the bullshit answer I know is coming because I've decided that I don't care what you say. I'm gonna sit back, and I'm gonna ask this question and watch you squirm as you realize that I am strong and I am my own person, and I deserve more than what you want me to have."

One of the most important / (imo needed) changes from the book to the movie was this scene right here, and I am glad that Matthew Lopez made sure to put this change in. While I do like that Catherine in the book came out of her grief to start to be there for her children, her children were younger in the book. Henry is older in the movie; he is nearing thirty years old, and though he is obviously hurt that his mother isn't around, he is also fully an adult, and I think that after all this time, HE needed to be the one to stand up for himself, for his love and his relationship. He needed to deal with this, and he had Alex's support and Bea's, but this was his moment. He gets to show who he has always been inside and gets the chance to be the man he has become because of knowing Alex and accepting his love and encouragement.

The look on his face as he asks that question tells how differently he values himself and his happiness than what we saw from him previously.

#RWRB #RWRB Movie #Red White and Royal Blue #FirstPrince #Alex X Henry #Moody Monday #Touching Tuesday #Alex Claremont-Diaz #Alexander Claremont-Diaz #Henry Fox #HRH Prince Henry #HRH Prince Henry George Edward James Hanover-Stuart Fox #Henry Fox Mountchristen Windsor #My RWRB GIFS #Nicholas Galitzine #Taylor Zakhar Perez #Strong Henry

[wannaeatramyeon]

Please james lee fluff...

Apologies for the delay. I've been struck down with covid... 😷

James Lee/DG x Reader: Haircut

G/N. Fluff.

"Yes?"

"No."

"But your hair is dark pink anyway!"

"It's red."

"Dark pink," you mutter bitterly under your breath, adding his new name with your lip curled, "DG."

You try once more, holding up your phone with a photoshopped picture of your boyfriend with pink hair. "You'll look so good though!"

He doesn't bother glancing in your direction, instead continuing to flip nonchalantly through a magazine. "I'll look good in any colour."

Usually you would agree, because as arrogant as this man is, he is also aware of his good looks. Today, you don't play to his ego and only respond by sticking your tongue out.

DG's hand darts out, fingers pinching your tongue and you jolt. It's gross. You squirm-

...And you're stuck.

"Stick your tongue out at me again," he drawls, finally turning to peer at you and releasing you from his grip, "and see what happens."

Oh. Like that is it?

You give him a devilish grin, tongue poking once more between your lips and he gives you a playful eyeroll in return.

"I just told you-"

"Mr. Kang?" Just before DG can make good on whatever he had been thinking of as punishment, the hairdresser makes a very timely entrance to whisk him away for his appointment.

(Even if she does bat her eyelashes at him, it is completely ignored as he kisses you on the cheek and tells you he won't be long.) . . That was a lie.

An hour turns into two. You think if you have another coffee you might vibrate out of your skin. You're completely caught up on the magazines and celebrity gossip and you must be bored out of your skin because you're thinking of doing something productive with your time like check your emails.

"You got your wish," A familiar voice murmurs, hot and silky into your ear.

A beam stretches on your face before you can even catch DG's new baby pink hair style and goddamn, you were right. It looks impeccable and so cool.

The pink a very flattering shade for his skin tone, and his bangs frame his sharp eyes and high cheekbones perfectly. He looks every inch the k-pop idol he's trying to rebrand into.

"You did it!" You squeal.

"Only because it's your favourite colour,"

"And I'm your favourite person?" you give him a fond nudge with your shoulder.

"Hmm, I suppose."

#lookism #lookism x reader #lookism fic #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #dg #dg x reader #lookism dg #diego kang #kang dagyeom #kang dagyum #james lee x reader #james lee #wannaeatramyeon

[onceuponastory]

artistic - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: After embarrassing herself in front of the very attractive artist, Y/N swears her night has gone from bad to worse. In fact, she couldn't be more wrong. Pairing: Artist!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Some swearing and a mention of alcohol. If I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: This is a part two to An Intriguing Stranger, which was based on a gif sent to me by @holacia3. Some people wanted Bucky's POV, so here it is! Read part one here!

As Y/N tries to think of something to say in response to the stranger's introduction, it's like time slows down. And the more time ticks by, the more Y/N wants the ground to open up and swallow her whole. And when she finally does speak, it's even worse. “Oh, my god. I’m so sorry.” Is what she was supposed to say. What she wanted to say. Instead, however, a mixture of words, of ‘sorry’ and ‘I had no idea who you were’ and ‘please don’t sue me’ comes out. More of a word vomit than a well thought out apology.

When James opens his mouth again, she expects him to curse her out, or even to actually sue her. Instead of a threat, though, she hears the complete opposite. Laughter. She raises a brow, curious about why he finds the situation funny, and what kind of artist would laugh at their work being criticised.

Honestly, Bucky wasn’t expecting to hear such a critique of his art tonight. And he definitely doesn’t mean to find it so funny. Or at least, he knows he probably shouldn’t. But after experiencing the perfectionism and fakeness of the art world, her brutal honesty is incredibly refreshing.

And it helps that she’s very cute too. In fact, he's never seen anyone like her ever before.

“Please, don’t feel the need to apologise. It’s totally fine.” He smiles. “That was my first real laugh of the night.” Y/N blinks in surprise, waiting for the other shoe to drop, the ‘but’ in his sentence to appear. And yet, it never comes, only adding to her confusion.

“What? But I just practically destroyed your life’s work!” To her surprise, he shrugs.

“Well, you were right, actually. My usual work is nothing like this. But unfortunately, it doesn’t pay the bills that well, and ‘isn’t the sort of work the galleries are looking for right now.’” He mocks, and Y/N stifles a laugh of her own. “One night it all reached a head, so I got very drunk on some wine and basically threw some paint at a canvas, like you guessed.” He nods. “And it definitely was a big fuck you to the art world and their standards.” He sighs, running another hand through his hair. “I didn’t even mean to submit it, but somehow I did, so I woke up the next morning to a bunch of emails and calls from a ton of galleries asking for the honour to display it.” He explains, before turning back to the painting. “I know it’s brought me a lot of success, but honestly? I hate this fucking thing.” 

“So… no harm done?” Y/N asks awkwardly, and he smiles.

How does his smile make my stomach flutter so much?

“None at all. In fact, I admire your honesty.” He walks towards another painting, beckoning for her to follow with a move of his head. For a moment, Y/N holds back. Even though there’s no animosity between them both, surely there’s no way he actually wants to spend time with her? 

Yet, he beckons her to follow him again once more, and Y/N’s feet start moving towards him before she can even think about it. 

After all, surely this night can't go any worse.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

For most of the night, Y/N’s new artistic friend gives her a tour of the exhibition, occasionally commenting on the artwork and its creators. He also very quickly told her to call him Bucky instead of James, something which he insists only his close friends do. Despite how relieved she feels to be getting closer and closer to her new, extremely attractive artistic friend (especially since he isn't going to sue her), Y/N would be lying if she said this whole thing didn’t feel absolutely crazy, and that she still isn’t waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under her, her chance at spending time with the attractive artist over before it even began.

But as Bucky leads her upstairs, into the fancy reception that only a few moments ago she was so sure she would not be attending, Y/N realises that she’s not going to complain about spending time with her handsome and charming companion. And with Bucky by her side, she feels more comfortable, less out of place. It feels like this is where she’s meant to be. By his side.

The room is busy, heaving with journalists and other artists. Yet, Bucky moves his hand to the small of her back, sending a shockwave throughout her entire body. He effortlessly guides her through the room, leading her straight to the bar.

After grabbing her a drink, Bucky leans against the bar, taking her all in. Y/N feels heat rising in her cheeks, and she grins. He really is an incredibly handsome man.

“You said you don’t paint like that usually, so what is your usual work, then?” She asks, trying and failing to limit her staring. Bucky chuckles. 

“The usual boring stuff, landscapes, portraits….”

“That doesn’t sound boring. I do like that kind of art, actually.” Bucky looks over at her, smirking.

“You know, I’d like to paint you one day. I think you’d make a wonderful piece.” He muses. Y/N almost drops her glass in shock, her cheeks burning even deeper. Bucky grabs a napkin, scribbling something on it. “I need to go mingle, but here’s my number. If we ever get separated, or if you would like to be a model for me....” He trails off, grinning cheekily. “Just call me.” He places his hand on her shoulder, giving her one last smile and a wink before disappearing into the crowd.

As he fades out of sight, Y/N pulls out her phone, adding Bucky to her contacts.

She might just take him up on his offer.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky oneshot #bucky one shot #marvel oneshot #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

[joesalw]

I think there are fewer songs about Joe in this album because we don't get the real truth about the breakup which is probably Taylor ended a 7 year relationship with Joe when they were both on different continents in the middle of the tour (probably over phone/ email) to later pursue a man who brought her backlash and then ended up ghosting her ! She says in the prologue about her breakup with Joe "And I tore the whole sky down with one conversation" Jack releasing the date of You're Losing Me as written in 2021 has made Swifties think they broke up long back which we know is not true. They had rough patches but they were together till February (Fortnight song says my days are all stuck on Mondays in February ) There's also an exact fortnight between when they could have broken up during tour (around Vegas but before iHeart awards when she was looking down and Arlington when Invisible String disappeared from the setlist ) and the announcement on April 8.

I think Taylor expected Joe to apologise and show up because she kept going on in the Betty speeches about how James had to apologise and show up to the party. And then when he did not she went straight to Matty. It is sad on one hand to think these two people probably never got to say goodbye in person after everything they shared.

I agree with the timeline. but the question is why was she waiting for an apology from joe? what was his fault? she is the one who had one foot already out of that relationship. she is the one who was emotionally cheating. and *checks notes* she's the one who tore down the whole sky with one conversation. so what was joe supposed to be sorry for? and she didn’t wait for him no. in fresh out the slammer she admits going straight to matty once their relationship was over! so it's insane how she made people believe that he did something wrong with her betty speech and that he needs to apologize. no he doesn’t. YOU need to apologize taylor

#anti taylor swift #joe alwyn

[w2soneshots]

First day -W2S

Words: 1.2k+

Warnings: none.

In which you start your first day at your new job and take a fancy to your "boss"

I walked into the wear house of my new job with a smile on my face exited for a change from my old one. I immediately spotted a familiar face. "Kristi!" i said walking up to her. She quickly turned around and smiled "y/n! How are you, ready for your first day?" she asked. "definitely." i replied.

I was then introduced to Simon who is one of the seven sidemen, and had organised the shoot today. "Hi I'm Simon." he said with a friendly smile. "y/n Nice to meet you." I replied. "So, are you enjoying your first day?" He asked. "Yes, This set is sick." i said enthusiastically. Simon smiled lightly then looked behind me and waved. I turned around to see someone walking towards us. "Aight." Simon said as he fist bumped the short ginger. "Yea mate you?" he replied "yea." Then he turned to me "y/n right?" He asked, "yes nice to meet you..." I waited for him to tell mr his name. "Ethan." he added "Ethan." I said.

I met four other people from the sidemen and they were all lovely: Tobi, JJ, Vik and Josh. Everyone was ready to start filming but who i assumed was Harry (due to overhearing a conversation between Kon and Simon) was late.

Finally he walked in and all of the boys started teasing him and going on about a red card for being so late, but he protested that he was stuck in traffic.

Kon sent me on set to adjust one of the lights that was slightly off, and everyone got in their places ready to film. "a little to the left" Kon said from across the room, "there?" I asked moving the light around. "Stop. Perfect". As I left the set I caught someone's eye, who I assumed was Harry since I have met everyone here, and I didn't recognise him. I smiled lightly at him and he did the same back, before i walked completely off set.

Filming went on for just over two hours. Since it's my first day i was basically following Kon around doing whatever he needed done. Once filming finished I helped Kristi put away some of the camera equipment.

I grabbed my bag and coat ready to leave for the day, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see Harry, "I didn't get too introduced myself earlier. Im Harry." he said putting out his hand, "y/n." I replied, shaking his hand. "Had a good first day?" He asked me. "Yes! everyone is so nice here." i said enthusiastically. He smiled and then said "I better be getting home. See you on the next shoot?" "Yep, See you there." I replied as we both walked away.

That night I was followed on instagram by Tobi, (who id given my username to, when we ran into each other as we were getting into our cars) JJ, Vik, Ethan, Josh, Simon and Harry. I followed them all back, and went to sleep.

Today marks a week working for the sidemen, and I did a little research one night to figure out what they were all about, since I was clueless when I first started.

Instead of a warehouse like my first day, they're shooting a side-cast (their podcast), which is located in a very tall building. From the email, I was told that James (who is one of the main camera men) would be in charge today. I also found out that only four of the sidemen do the podcast at a time and today would be: Simon, Tobi, Harry, and JJ.

When I arrived I walked into reception and signed in. Once I went up the lift and found the right room I walked in and quickly spotted James. We said hello, and he told me that I would be in charge of camera two today and that the boys would be here any minute. I set my bag down and took off my coat.

Tobi was the 1st to arrive followed by Simon, JJ and then Harry. They all greeted me along with the rest of the crew, and we got straight into filming. it took about an hour and a half to film the entire side-cast and then afterwards as I was grabbing my bag coat, Harry walked towards me.

"Hey." he said with a smile on his face. "Hi, do you need something?" I asked, "no, I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to go and get some lunch?" a smile spread across my face, and I replied "I would love to."

I was quite surprised that Harry had asked me to lunch, but I was very happy he had. I ended up going in his car and he drove us to Nando's. He was the first to talk "I'm not sure if you like Nando's.." "oh no I love it it's my favourite." I said enthusiastically. "Thank god" he replied. After we finished our food, he asked me if I would like to come back to his place, I said yes, and he drove to his apartment.

As he unlocked the door he said "by the way, I have a roommate, just ignore him." he said in a slightly jokey tone. I laughed and said "will do." Once he open the door, we both took our shoes off and he walked me through to the kitchen. "Your apartment is lovely." I said looking around.

After about an hour of sitting and talking on his couch, who I assumed was his roommate, walked in. He looked at Harry and raised his eyebrows. Harry gave him a dirty look And then introduced us. "y/n this is Cal. Cal y/n." he said as we both stood up, I smiled and put my hand out to shake his, and he did just that. "Nice to meet you." he said wiggling his eyebrows. "you too." I said back laughing.

"So are you Harrys bird, yea?" He asked with a smirk. Harry punched him in the arm with his fist, "ow." he said quietly.

"Uh no, no I'm not." I said with a slight giggle. "You should get on that then Bog." he said. My brows furrowed Bog? I thought. "Bog?" I said allowed. "Stupid nickname." Harry said.

Cal, or Freezy as he told me to call him retreated back to his room after grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. Harry turned to me and said "I told you to ignore him." I laughed and said "he seems nice."

I spent a few hours at Harry's place before I decided It was time to go home. we exchanged numbers before I left, and I said "thank you for lunch. I had a great time." he smiled and said "me too, see you at the shoot on Thursday?" "See you there."

Harry's pov:

As soon as the door closed I heard Freezys open, I turned to see him stood with a smirk on his face. "she's nice." He said and laughed. "Yep." I said. I really did like her, she's funny, kind, she smells amazing and she is so fucking beautiful.

Shit I really like her…

#w2s #harry w2s #w2s x reader #w2s imagine #w2s fic #sidemen #harry lewis #wrotoshaw #fanfic #oneshot #image #x reader

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

Another one because I'm on summer break and spend my days reading about how it's them in every universe. Like the last one, this post is for AU fic recs but I made this post for fics set in the canon universe.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

At The Beginning by @inthe-afterglows

Historical AU in which "Lily's life is changed forever when she takes a morning stroll through the woods and ends up in 1745 - two hundred years in the past."

Or an Outlander / Anastasia AU

Love, love love! Do yourself a favour and listen to Timeless when reading this. I can not express with words how much I loved this one

Faint Hearts and Fair Ladies by @thejilyship

Historical AU where "Sir Lupin heroically gets the royal family out of a castle under siege. Now the three royals and their knight find themselves running for their lives through the forest. James and Lily's tenuous relationship will be tested, as secrets come out and emotions run high." 

Or a Robin Hood AU in which they strive to do better

It's got a well-rounded plot and great world-building with incredible characterisations. The interpersonal communication between James and Lily does a great job of acknowledging how James, while being physically present was emotionally absent. The author explores his grief and makes it a point to note that while it explains his behaviour, it doesn’t excuse it. Despite this, through it all, I was rooting for them. Also, the relationship between the Black brothers was so well written. All of the side characters felt valuable to the story and were dynamic. Overall a really good read! Shout out to big brother Harry and baby Gracie ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Fighting the Odds also by @/thejilyship

Hunger Games AU

In which Moody as Haymitch Abernathy is the greatest casting of all time.

certain sharp things by @thequibblah

Historical AU in which "all the other customary marks on James’s body have been made either aboard his ship, his fear abated by cheap spirits, or in foreign ports. But this, they all said, this, his promotion to captain, this deserves ink from the Portsmouth tattooist’s hand."

Or a tattoo shop AU but make it Regency

holy the air, the water, and the fire; also by @/thequibblah

Avatar AU set against a regency backdrop.

Emphasis on the tag "Big-time Matchmaker Euphemia Potter"

An Alliance with an Earl by fluffernutter8 (on ao3)

Regency AU. "Years after she initially rejected his proposal, Lily Evans finds herself in a situation where James Potter, Earl of Gryffindor, can be of help."

In which Frank Longbottom, accidental matchmaker, is grateful for his very nice bottle of brandy

AO3 is Down by @annabtg

AO3 Status: Delayed emails have been sent out and the Archive is back! Thank you so much to our sysadmin james_ for interrupting his sleep to work on and monitor the situation.

Inspired by this very real Tweet, an alternate universe where the sysadmin is James Potter, and Lily Evans is his supervisor who had to drag him out of bed so he could resolve the problem.

The fact that this came on my dash when archive last crashed -

Golden Love by GwenMontrose (on ao3)

Olympics AU. "Paris 2024. Lily Evans, English tennis star, is ready to face the highest challenge of her career and finally fulfil the dream of winning a gold medal at her first Olympics. Now, if only a certain handsome swimmer wasn't set on wreaking havoc in her life, everything would be very much smoother..."

all the time in the world by @eemolu

Uni AU. "Three seconds. That was how long Lily let herself consider the thought of it, before she pushed it away and forced herself to think of something, anything else. One, there was his mouth, obviously, his lips and how they were slightly chapped and definitely capable of driving her mad by the words that came out of them so she could only imagine what else they could do. Two, his shoulders were broad and he insisted on wearing those stupid threadbare T-shirts so she could see the planes of his chest move beneath them when he laughed or stretched or did anything at all, because apparently she was dealing with some kind of Greek marble statue. Three, his hands, and there was no justification she could give to herself for why they transfixed her that couldn’t be seen with one look at them. And that was three, and she was done."

To quote the notes "james potter is hot and I am looking respectfully."

can you play me a melody by @/ eemoul

Modern (band) AU. James sat in the backseat and tried not to stare. This girl was beautiful. The red hair, the green eyes she’d narrowed at him in the rearview mirror. Not to mention the music she was playing, old folk songs he hadn’t heard since he was a child, and louder than he was used to. People usually turned it down so they could talk about James, and who they knew who loved him, and how he should be living his life better. This girl simply drove, and was beautiful.

I'll be cleaning up bottles with you by k_tron (on ao3)

Muggle modern AU where getting drunk at a new years eve party leads to voicing repressed emotions

fainting for you by dhpanya10 (on ao3)

Modern muggle AU. A meet-ugly in which “you just fainted right in front of me please you need to drink more in this heatwave, and oh wow, it turns out you’re also unfairly pretty/handsome when you aren’t passing out on me”

Namecheck for a Bet by MyThirdGuess (on ao3)

‘So, I know that there are many fans out there wondering, and speculating, where the name of my album came from. I feel like I owe them an explanation, especially considering it just won an award.

‘Gryffindor was the name of my house at the boarding school I attended, and I lost a bet when I was sixteen that if I ever released an album, I would show true house pride and name it after Gryffindor.

‘If you think that’s good, just wait. I lost another bet a year later that I would namecheck four people if I ever won an award. So, James, Sirius, Remus, Peter… this is your namecheck.’

barry, bond, and the blues by @oyprongs

"He and his friends beeline for the rock section, which is strategically placed up front, directly in her eye line. She gets a closer look at him, this way. Messy hair, a strand or two curling behind his specs. The lean shoulders of a boy still in the midst of filling out his frame. Long fingers flicking through the bin of records, the light snick sound filtering through the hum of the fan blowing by her ear."

As someone currently on summer holidays, the vibes in this are immaculate. I recommend listening to Jackie and Wilson while reading this.

Polaroid Muse by DeepWatersWaiting (on ao3)

Modern AU. "At a party with Sirius' art friends, James finds himself unexpectedly becoming the subject of someone's polaroid camera."

Because english literature student james potter is everything

Accidental Reindeer by AidanChase (on ao3)

Lily's holiday plans are cancelled, but luckily -- or unluckily -- her least favourite coursemate from university has invited her to his parent's home in the countryside. He just neglected to mention is parents' grand Christmas gala is actually an ugly jumper party.

Just Pretend by sunshinemarauder (on ao3)

Fame AU. In "Five times actors Lily Evans and James Potter kissed for the cameras, and one time it was unmistakably on purpose."

Andrew Garfield Would Never by Yerawizardbec (on ao3)

“Actually, that's where you're wrong McKinnon, from my extensive field research into the male species, I have concluded that Andrew Garfield would never treat you that badly,” Hestia declared, semi-seriously.

“Oh my god, you're so right, Andrew Garfield would never,”

3 Godrics Row also by @/ Yerawizardbec

Legal AU, written by an actual solicitor - Lily Evans was described by the Legal 500 as 'a breath of fresh air’ and ‘the future of the family bar’ but that didn't matter as she stumbled through the front doors of the Court, 30 minutes later than she had anticipated to. After a stressful, horrendous day, Lily finds herself in a bar with a handsome stranger; she hadn't planned on ever seeing him again, but then he pops up in the last place she ever expected to see him, and she can't help but admit, she might just be falling for James Potter, but does she know who he really is?

PHENOMENAL. I am in desperate need of more jily legal AUs so if anyone has any recs, please share

Two Blind Dates by @moonawrites

Lily has had her fair share of good dates, bad dates, dead boring and dead-end dates. But she has never, in all her life, been on a date and had him say, “This might sound insane, but I think you’re my best mate’s soulmate.”

A Happy Accident by @chierafied

James could never have imagined what a little slip of a tongue during a TV show interview might lead to...

The Wedding Ring by @mppmaraudergirl

What is undeniably worse than attending your sister's wedding looking as desolate and forgotten as a wilted houseplant?

Drunkenly ringing your ex-boyfriend and asking him to be your date.

Or a fake-dating AU in which Petunia is Bridezilla

A classic idiots in love

Mixed Impressions (requires an ao3 account) by @charmingwillow

Modern AU. The first time James Potter met Lily Evans he decked her with a day old, soggy waffle. Things don't go well from there... until they do.

TW: grieving parents

Don't ask me how this works but it's like a slice-of-life but with angst (the ambivalence I know).

#jily fic rec #jily #jple #lily evans #james potter

[roleplaylogs]

RP Hunt!

Hello! Long time no see. I’m back in the world of searching for roleplay partners now my life has calmed down a little and I have a lovely work from home job. I currently have one long term writing partner (writing together for probably about 4 years now… jeez) but I’d love to expand my horizons. I’ve done these call-out posts before but if you’ve commented/sent me a message before and I haven’t responded due to my own inactivity, please get back in touch! I’d love to chat and do trials with as many people as possible.

For my preferences, I am 25 so I definitely will not write with anyone under 18 (though I prefer 21+ just so I don’t feel so old). I tend to be an email role player these days but I’m probably going to kickstart my Discord again so am more than happy to write there.

I am fine with NSFW and dark themes as long as everything is discussed beforehand. I always have my own plot ideas but love it when my partner is into planning things out too. I can RP in text format and also literate, my responses tend to be between 1-3 paragraphs but I am happy to match length. Creative writing is a hobby for me and now I have time I’d love to flex my writing skills again.

Here are the fandoms and ships I’m currently searching for. The characters I write are in bold and I’ve put an asterisk next to those I am particularly interested in.

Marvel:

Stucky - Steve Rogers/James Barnes

Stony - Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Bishova - Kate Bishop/Yelena Belova

Stevetasha - Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff

Winteriron - Loki/Tony Stark

(I am open to most marvel ships/multi shipping, so try me if you have any of your own ideas)

Hannigram - Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham

Harry Potter:

Drarry - Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Dramione - Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger (a new one for me but I just finished reading Manacled so blame that)

Wolfstar - Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (another new one I am interested in exploring)

Good Omens:

Aziraphale/Crowley

Sherlock:

Mormor - Jim Moriarty/Sebastian Moran

Sherstrade - Sherlock Holmes/Greg Lestrade

Sheriarty - Sherlock Holmes/Jim Moriarty

Hamish Watson-Holmes/Alexander Moran-Moriarty

And I think that’s it! DM me, or leave a note and I’ll send you a message and we can chat. Thank you for reading.

#roleplay #sherlock #sherlock rp #mormor rp #mormor #hannigram #Hannigram rp #drarry rp #dramione rp #Dramione #drarry #Harry potter rp #good omens rp #ineffable husbands roleplay #ineffable husbands rp #marvel rp #Stucky rp #bishova rp #rp search #rp #discord rp

[wellofhavoc]

everyone looking at or involved with the james somerton situation keeps saying stuff like "he might have received harassment, i don't want to say he's lying" or whatever so i guess i'm going to say it:

no one went to james somerton's house to kill or attack him after the hbomberguy video went live. might some people have commented some awful stuff about his suicide attempt? sure.

i also personally believe he's too narcissistic to have even made the attempt. that's not a claim i make lightly, mind you. i see myself as a very trusting person. Hell, i honestly went into this new response video expecting him to be able to see that the jig was up and that he wasn't going to be able to say "i don't know how those things ended up in the video!!!" anymore, but after walking out with egg on my face a second time, i'm starting to lose my good will for this particular clown.

my personal feelings about that aside, let's deduce what we know about james somerton and how he constructs points and arguments: he likes to show receipts! receipts that never quite actually prove what he's trying to say, but he likes to show them. It's a classic tactic in this situation to try and give lies some sort of credibility by substantiating the small truths they're built off of the best one can. this means showing an email that does NOT give him permission to just read passages from a book without crediting their source, this means showing a tweet of someone vaguely disagreeing with you and saying they attacked you. his address has been public information by his own hand for years. if a police report existed, he would have shown it. if he went to a hospital, he would have shown record of it. i'm not saying he has to, i'm just saying if he really wants to show off an email that just says "uh yeah you can use some of my book for a youtube video" he would show texts from his dad asking him to respond while waiting for an ambulance.

i'm also going to say this guy's never received a death threat before this because of the total tonal switch between him claiming death threats have been made against him before and his reaction to comments telling him his suicide attempt should have taken. is this disgusting? yes. does he have a right to be angry at these comments? of course- he's a human being and i don't think he should kill himself. in the past, however, he always just sort of laughed these comments off.

and why???? because they didn't seem as real? possibly. or maybe they weren't real at all.

#james somerton #youtube #havoc blog #oh and not referring to nick with they/them pronouns until you need to say 'i have nonbinary friends!!!' is shitty #just to put that on the record

[charmsandtealeaves]

I had a big reading week this week trying to clear some of my email inbox because the sheer volume was stressing me the fuck out every time I opened it 😅 Posting this a day early as I'm honestly a little worried Tumblr is gonna be funny about all the links.

Read this week:

Reset by @ncoincidences

WIP, Jily micro-oops, Temporary amnesia, Rated G

A mishap with a drunken dark wizard leaves Lily an amnesiac. The last ten months of her life has been completely wiped, which includes her breakup with James eight months before. To aid in her speedy recovery, James has to keep Lily under the pretence that her life has been the same as it was.

When It Counted by @cascader

Complete (6.9k), Order!jily, Rated T

She didn’t tell him when it counted. She’s daydreaming of a redo.

Something Foolish by @merlinsbudgiesmugglers

Complete (1.9k), Tedromeda, canon compliant, Rated E

Struggling against the expectations of her family, and her forced separation from Ted. Andromeda is pleased to discover a note left in her room.

Sunrise, Sunset by @practicecourts

Complete (2.9k) Blackevans BFF Week, Rated G

One time Sirius Black finds Lily Evans, just as she’s about to do something she might regret. One time Lily Potter finds Sirius Black after he’s received some upsetting news.

A Different Kind of Love Story by @mppmaraudergirl

Complete (5.8k), Blackevans BFF Week, Rated G

The best of friendships sometimes grow in the most unlikely of places.

The Vow by @missgryffin

Complete (9.6k), Hogwarts! Jily , Rated E

When he was thirteen-going-on-fourteen, James Potter did something truly, unbelievably stupid. Now that he’s seventeen-going-on-eighteen, he has to deal with the consequences.

Quest for Camelot by @petalsinwoodvale (Ch. 1-2)

WIP, jily Quest For Camelot AU, Rated T

All Lily has ever wanted is to be a knight, like her father, Sir Lionel. After Camelot is attacked and the magical sword Excalibur is stolen, she finds herself teaming up with James, a young blind hermit, as they embark on a quest to find the lost sword. Together, they face the threat of the evil Ruber, navigate challenges with a two-headed dragon and an ogre, and discover that they're more alike than they initially thought. Will they manage to return the sword to Arthur in time, or will they lose not only each other but also their dreams and the precious Excalibur?

Grounded by @frustratedpoetwrites

WIP, Jily Modern (Magic) AU, Winter Olympics, Not Rated

When James Potter's successful Quidditch career comes to an abrupt end he struggles to find a new direction. Coaching seems to be an answer and a pair of green eyes.

Vindicated by missgryffin

Complete (20k), Order!Jily AU, Rated E

Five years ago, Lily Evans did the hardest thing she’d ever done, and broke up with James Potter so she could stay alive by secretly going undercover in America. Now, she’s been tasked with something even harder: doing a transatlantic mission with him.

Captivated by missgryffin

Complete (6.7k), Hogwarts!Jily, Rated E

"I think we should sweep the library. Make sure it's empty." "And why's that?" "Because I need to be alone with you."

Silent Night by practicecourts (ch.1-4)

WIP, Hope Lupin, Remus Lupin, Rated T

Moments in the life of Hope Lupin.

10 Things I Hate About You by @wearingaberetinparis (Ch1.)

WIP, Jily Romcom, Rated M

Petunia Evans cannot start dating the man she considers to have true love potential – a certain Vernon Dursley – until her anti-social younger sister, Lily, finds herself a partner too, which leads Petunia to take drastic measures. For surely, Head Boy James Potter – suffering from a knee injury he does not want anyone but himself and his physiotherapist to know about – should be able to charm her younger sibling, shouldn’t he? If the only thing standing between her perfect love match is blackmail, who is she not to resort to it? Are not, after all, all means justified when the end she has in mind is so very sweet?

Would you run away with me? By @ncoincidences

Complete (1.3k), jily, Rated G

In which Lily barges in on a white veil occasion.

Happy Place by Wearingaberetinparis (Ch.1-6)

WIP, jily modern AU, Rated M

James and Lily have always been the perfect couple that everyone aspires to be: from Head Boy and Girl at Hogwarts School to university students in a loving long distance relationship to – eventually – a happily engaged duo, destined to go the distance. They go together like cream and tea, pride and prejudice, fish and chips. That is, until – for reasons they refuse to discuss for fear of making everything so much worse – they really, truly don’t. For one week, however, they have to act as if all is well for they have yet to tell their friends that what had always seemed perfect, is now very much broken.

You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that by @jamesunderwater

Complete (1k), prongsfoot in a nightclub, Rated E

prongsfoot + a locked door public bathroom on my knees trying to make you scream vibe

Truth is I’m so damn in love with you I don’t know what to do with myself by jamesunderwater

Complete (800), Prongsfoot, Rated T

prongsfoot + near death experiences + trapped with only one bed + gay pining

Over Spilt Coffee by @annabtg

Complete (1k), Tonks first person POV, Rated T

Tonks's musings on the night she picked up smoking... the night Remus Lupin broke her heart.

Breaking by annabtg

Complete (1.4k), Remus Lupin, Missing Moments, Rated T

Remus has his reasons for staying away from Tonks. Even if it breaks his heart as much as it breaks hers.

From the very first day by @kay-elle-cee

Complete (500), Muggle AU Jily, Rated T

An unexpected night leaves two coworkers trying to sort out their feelings.

Loved you three summers by Kay-Elle-Cee

Complete (600), Pregnant Jily, Rated G

A pregnant Lily has a not-so-sudden realization.

Don’t say yes by Kay-Elle-Cee

Complete (800), no Voldemort AU Jily, Rated G

Two old flames reconnect, wondering if the other is happy.

This is me swallowing my pride by Kay-Elle-Cece

Complete (466), Harry’s God parents, Rated G

The appointment of Harry's Godfather was never up for discussion, but his Godmother? That took some convincing.

Keeping secrets just to keep you by Kay-Elle-Cee

Complete (453), Secret Relationship Jily, Rated T

James and Lily's friends have a bet, and the two of them are determined to win.

Silence and patience, pining in anticipation by Kay-Elle-Cee

Complete (1.2k), Post-Hogwarts Jily, Rated T

Lily’s been hung up on James for years; a tipsy conversation might be the push she needs to do something about it.

You kiss me in a way that’s gonna screw me up forever by Kay-Elle-Cee

Complete (1k), Pregnant Order!Jily, Rated T

When Lily and James got pregnant, they made a plan for how they'd participate in the Order going forward. Plans change.

Back to the Pavilion by @abihastastybeans

Complete (1.3k), Minerva McGonagall, Rated G

A day in the life of Minerva McGonagall. Written for the Ladies of HP Fest's Monthly Minis: 1st December 2023 - Minerva McGonagall!

The Naughty List by abihastastybeans

Complete (690), jily secret Santa, Rated T

Written for the December Jily Advent Calendar 2023!Prompt: A & B are colleagues and for the secret santa one of them gives the other something inappropriate as a gag gift

Added to the ever expanding TBR:

The Next Step by merlinsbudgiesmugglers

Complete (1.5k), post-canon Andromeda Tonks, Rated G

After the war Andromeda has been wholly focused on raising her grandson. But when he goes to Hogwarts, she finds she might need something more. Kingsley and Harry have an idea for what that could be.

Speak Now by @firefeufuego Complete (1.4k), Jily love declarations, Rated T

The fuse has been lit. Lily can almost hear the crackling hiss of it, feel the building burn of it in the air as Sirius takes the reins of the conversation, as drinks are bought and poured down newly dry throats, and eventually as last orders are called and the four of them are standing outside and saying farewell with kisses on cheeks. Sam and Sirius apparate away. Lily and James do not. They stand, eyes fixed firmly on each other, ready to ignite. ‘Not forever, you said?’ James asks, his voice deep and quiet in a way that’s never been hers to hear before now. Follow-up to the lovely kay-elle-cee's 'silence and patience, pining in anticipation'.

#charms read round up #week 4 #fic rec

[mariacallous]

Scientific publisher Sage Journals has retracted three papers on abortion—including a controversial 2021 study on mifepristone, the medication at the center of a US legal battle.

The 2021 study found that mifepristone, one of two pills used in a medication abortion, significantly increased the risk of women going to the emergency room following an abortion. The study, along with another retracted paper from 2022, was cited by US District Judge Matthew Kacsmaryk in the April 2023 ruling that invalidated the Food and Drug Administration’s approval of the drug.

Mifepristone was approved in 2000 by the Food and Drug Administration, the federal agency that evaluates the safety and efficacy of drugs, and has been used by at least 5.9 million women in the US since then. The drug blocks a hormone called progesterone that’s needed for a pregnancy to continue. It’s used alongside another pill, misoprostol, to induce an abortion within 10 weeks of pregnancy.

The three retracted studies were published in the journal Health Services Research and Managerial Epidemiology in 2019, 2021, and 2022. In July 2023, Sage issued an “expression of concern” about the 2021 paper, saying it was launching an investigation into the article.

According to Sage, a reader contacted the journal with concerns about misleading presentations of data in the 2021 article on mifepristone. The person also questioned whether the authors’ affiliations with pro-life advocacy organizations, including the Charlotte Lozier Institute, present conflicts of interest that the authors should have disclosed in the article.

In a retraction notice published on February 5, Sage said an independent reviewer with expertise in statistical analyses evaluated the concerns and concluded that the article's presentation of the data in certain figures leads to an inaccurate conclusion. The reviewer also found that “the composition of the cohort studied has problems that could affect the article's conclusions,” according to Sage.

As part of the publisher’s investigation, Sage said, two subject matter experts conducted an independent post-publication peer review of the three articles and found that they “demonstrate a lack of scientific rigor.” In the 2021 and 2022 articles, the reviewers found problems with the study design and methodology, errors in the authors’ analysis of the data, and misleading presentations of the data. In the 2019 article, the experts identified unsupported assumptions and misleading presentations of the findings.

“The retractions are not scientifically warranted as is easily demonstrable to any trained, objective scientist,” James Studnicki, the lead author on all three studies, told WIRED via email.

Studnicki, the vice president and director of data analytics of the Charlotte Lozier Institute, shared with WIRED a copy of a point-by-point rebuttal he and his coauthors submitted to Sage in response to the retractions.

In the 2021 study on mifepristone, Studnicki and his coauthors used data from Medicaid claims of 423,000 medication and procedural abortions between 1999 and 2015. Of those, over a quarter visited a hospital emergency room within 30 days of the abortion. During the study period, they found that emergency room visits associated with medication abortion rose much faster when compared to rates following a surgical abortion.

In his ruling last year, Kacsmaryk wrote that anti-abortion doctors and medical groups had legal standing to sue over mifepristone’s approval because “they allege adverse events from chemical abortion drugs can overwhelm the medical system and place ‘enormous pressure and stress’ on doctors during emergencies and complications.”

Ushma Upadhyay, a public health social scientist at UC San Francisco who studies medication abortion, says she has had concerns about the 2021 study since it was first published. “In my mind, the largest problem with the paper is that it conflates emergency department visits with serious adverse events,” she says. A serious adverse event related to medication abortion includes requiring a blood transfusion, needing a major surgery, or being admitted to the hospital—none of which the study looked at.

In their response to Sage Journals, the paper’s authors argue that emergency room visits are a “broad proxy indicator” for abortion-related complications. But Upadhyay says it’s to be expected that some people visit the ER after getting a medication abortion, since the pill regimen causes bleeding. Especially since patients often take the medication at home and may not live near an abortion provider, they may go to the ER if they have questions about side effects or to confirm that the abortion was successful, she says.

Decades of research has shown that mifepristone is safe and has a low rate of serious complications. The FDA has recorded 32 deaths following its use but cautions that these events “cannot with certainty be causally attributed to mifepristone” because not enough information is known about the patients’ health and care they received.

The 2022 study, which was based on the same dataset as the 2021 paper, found that patients who have medication abortions and subsequently visit the emergency room are frequently misclassified as miscarriage patients, which conceals abortions. The study was also cited in Kacsmaryk’s ruling last year.

The 2019 paper looked at abortion providers and their hospital admitting privileges—meaning formal agreements between providers and hospitals that allow them to directly admit patients to the hospital. It found that half of abortion providers in Florida lacked such privileges, which the authors argued raises safety concerns about their medical qualifications. The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists has said that admitting privileges are not tied to patient care or a clinician’s competence.

After Kacsmaryk’s attempt to reverse mifepristone’s approval in April last year, the US Supreme Court granted a stay to keep the drug available. The high court is expected to hear the case next month. Until then, the drug's future remains uncertain.

[hezekiahwakely]

As anticipated, here are my extensive red string notes from the pilot:

God knows how relevant any of this will turn out to be, but I'm nothing if not a collector of trivial information

Very long text beneath the cut:

Page 1

The Magnus Protocol Pilot 10/25/23

Characters (in order of appearance)

Alice Dyer -O.I.A.R. employee -Dated Sam in uni -Jokester -Training Sam -Gets along with Colin

Teddy Vaughn -Retiring from the O.I.A.R. after 4 (?) years -Going into insurance field

Colin Becher -O.I.A.R. IT Manager -Vegetarian 🥬 -On the hook of "his nibs" (boss, male) -Sensitive about FR3-d1 app development, communicates w/politicians, trying for 2 years -Only gets along w/Alice -Knows computers are listening -Jokes about being killed

Lena Kelley -O.I.A.R. Team/Department Manager -Authoritative, follows protocol -Doesn't think Gwen is qualified for management

Gwendolyn Bouchard -O.I.A.R. employee -Backlog of casework -Dislikes Lena, wants her job -Dedicated to detail -Accused of nepotism by Alice -Thinks current job is beneath her -"Not like most people." *static*

Samama Khalid (Sam) -New O.I.A.R. employee -Dated Alice in uni -Wanting to 'get back on his feet' -Familiar with TMI -Didn't know what the Incidents were before hire!!

Page 2

Pilot notes con. 10/25/23

Listening Tech - Turns on by itself 💡

Dated computers (O.I.A.R.)

"Manager's speakerphone" (Lena's)

CCTV (O.I.A.R. breakroom?)

Cell phone (Alice's)

*O.I.A.R. formed in 70s? Accor. to Alice*

*Response Department no longer exists*

Still in onboarding paperwork, "Response 121"

Sam ticked this box

Tech Specs

O.S. = Windows NT 4.0 (modified) -Extended support for this O.S. was ended Dec. 31, 2004 IRL -Runs on workstations connected by LAN -Similar GUI to 95; comes w/Internet Explorer

FR3-d1 -Custom research software circa mid-90s -Flags Incidents and creates a database -Can search private/protected sources (email) -Alice claims no one has understood its workings for 15 years -Written in German source code

*1 Year = Average Employee Stay*

Page 3

Pilot notes con. 10/25/23

Classification System

Used in FR3-d1's database

Structure: CATXRXXXXX-XXXXXXXX-XXXXXXXX

CATXRX -> From reference table (CAT = Category?) First four digits -> Main subject of Incident DPHW (?) Next eight digits -> Date of Incident Last eight digits -> Current date

Example: CAT2RC1157-12052022-13012024* -First one we hear they file. "1157" is the "DPHW" for "dolls, watching."

*Jan. 13, 2024 is the date of Sam's onboarding/training (after Teddy's going-away party)

*as listed in transcript; in-show, it's quoted as 22102023, or Oct. 22, 2023

Page 4

Pilot notes (con.) 10/25/23

FR3-d1's Voice to Text/Text to Speech

Voices (named by Alice, which Gwen dislikes):

Neil = Alex

Chester = Jonny

(those two most common)

Augustus = ?

Neil's Incident

Occurs in "Cyberspace" via the transcript

"I'm so sorry. I should have listened. I just couldn't face the thought of the rest of my life never hearing him again, I had to try." First lines 😢

Email from Harriet Winstead to Darla Winstead, May 12, 2022

Recitations *can* be paused by pressing "space"!

Chester's Incident

Also occurs in "Cyberspace"

Topic: Magnus Institute Ruins.

On forum, user RedCanary, begins April 10, 2022. Explored 4/19-20/22.

Third floor gone. No old papers.

Suspicious, occult (?) graffiti, stains (!)

Took box with strange symbols (same as ones on walls/floors)

4/30/22 Posted image of gore/eyes, possibly of themself. Banned + did not return.

Page 5

Pilot notes con. 10/25/23

Early release video Case #: CAT1RA1353-03102023-22102024(listed as 202"3" on Patreon)

Video was posted 10/22/23.

Listed as "Incident" on Patreon.

According to transcript, the O.I.A.R. offices are located in Royal Mint Court.

Johson (sic) Smirke Building

Main building.

5 storeys, Grade 2 listed.

Designed by James Johnson, but constructed between 1807-1812 by Robert Smirke after Johnson died. To be used for mint.

Entrance lodge also built by Smirke, in front of building.

Page 6

Pilot - Public Release -TMAGP#001

Changes:

Sam's first incident number - today's date

CAT2RC1157-12052022-13012024 -> CAT2RC1157-12052022-09012024

Voice (first incident)

Neil -> *Norris*

Minor word/date changes in incidents.

Minor line read differences.

Descriptions of Incidents in new transcript:

Norris': CAT1RBC5257-12052022-09012024 Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret [Email]

Chester's: CAT23RAB2155-10042022-09012024 Transformation (Eyes) -/- Trespass [chat log]

#will add alt text shortly #also keep in mind a lot of this was written back in October - see the last page for recent changes #tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp spoilers #im super stoked to have figured out the royal mint court thing