#another pairing to add to the list that's exploded over the last year

[air-mechanical]

I've finished watching season 4 of For All Mankind and honestly, eating glass would be less painful right now. It's an excellent show, and there's so much to say about it. But,

Margo and Sergei. My god. My heart. I need time to come to terms with that. Thankfully there's the powers of denial, imagination, and Ao3.

Apologies while I post about them for a bit. Block the tag if you want to avoid spoilers or if you just don't care. These space nerds will kill me for at least a week.

New crossover idea that's plasma burst into existence: Andor and FAM. Dedra and Syril plan a mission with Margo and Sergei. I'll write it for my audience of 1.

#for all mankind #fam #margo madison #sergei nikulov #another pairing to add to the list that's exploded over the last year #I want to write something nice and pure for them #while I also work on dark and messed up dedra/syril in the backseat of an impounded luxury car #I can have it all #I believe in myself #margo/sergei

[hawkins-fav-mess]

If it wasn't for the kids

Pairing - Steve Harrington x fem!Byers!reader

Summary - You and Steve are idiots in love. Miscommunication leads Robin to knocking your heads together.

Word Count - 2.1K

a/n - I haven't proof read this but honestly no beta, we die like men.

"If I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more."

Steve Harrington was a lot of things. He was an asshole. He was funny. He was clever. He was cool. He was way out of your league but currently he was dressed like a smurf and scooping ice cream for three bucks an hour.

Steve Harrington was an asshole. Was. After Will’s funeral you had nearly killed him yourself when you found out about the fight he had picked with your brother but after that everything changed. The demogorgon, the demodogs; Hawkins changed. It’s like the air changed, everything is just… heavier and you and Steve are some of the very few people who knew why. Steve Harrington was an asshole, but he is also your hero. When Billy came to your house for Max last year it was Steve that saved you. You stood between Billy and the kids when he came for them, You are the one he beat the shit out of when you wouldn’t move, and it was Steve who hauled him off of you and beat him to a bloody pulp. Ever since then, you swear, that man could smack you with that nail bat of his and you would thank him. Which is why you find myself standing in Scoops Ahoy almost every day reciting the same order and praying that today will be the day he looks at you and he sees you.

Robin worked it out, that little shit always worked it out. She had taken to teasing you for it but even her teasing remarks wouldn’t make you stop. Today was an accident, you weren't even meant to be going today but Will burst through my door begging you to take him and his friends to the mall because they just had to see the new film Steve was going to sneak them into, and when your baby brother looks at you like that how can you say no. So here you are, herding kids that act more like geese into Scoops Ahoy praying Steve is actually working today and he is.

“You going through as well?” he asks, holding the door a little bit longer.

“Na, I’m just the free ride” you say, waving him off, “and besides, I thought it was a kids only offer!”

He chuckles, “Well you and the kids are a package deal, ain’t ya Byers? Like I wouldn’t even know you if it wasn’t for the kids.”

It hits you like a bullet; he isn’t yours, hell he isn’t even your friend. You are the extra he puts up with for the kids’ sake. Suddenly you didn’t feel like ice cream anymore, suddenly you only needed to get out.

“Yeah, King Steve would never be caught dead speaking to the Byers freak if it wasn’t for the kids!” you can feel the tears in the corner of your eyes, so you just turn and run.

“Wait, Y/n! That’s not…” the words died in his mouth; you were already gone.

-

Robin watched the whole thing; her heart broke for you because she could read you like a book. But Robin also knew three things. She knew you loved Steve. She knew Steve was too dumb to notice and she knew Steve was head over heels for y/n Byers. She swore that if she had to spend one more minute listening to Steve talk about your new haircut or how sweet you were for chauffeuring the kids around, she would literally explode. At first, she was confused because while she was no expert on his “king Steve” phase she was fairly sure his friends had bullied the Byers twins so hearing him talk about her like she was the water after a drought was confusing but then you started coming in every day and it was clear as day. You were idiots in love.

Which is exactly why she flipped the open sign to closed and manhandled Steve to a table when he showed no sign of moving, still staring after you.

“The hell was that dingus?” she exclaimed, dramatically splaying her hands across the table.

“What? You heard her Robin. She still sees me as ‘king’ Steve, I’m just fooling myself – might as well add another score to the ‘you suck’ list!”

“Steve stop. Have you considered that perhaps, what just happened is called miscommunication?”

He blinked, clearly confused and so she continued.

“You said you wouldn’t know her without the kids, she thinks you meant you wouldn’t want to know her without the kids. How long did your ex friends spend bullying her? Then suddenly you’re her best friend, of course she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“what…” he asks, open mouthed, confused.

“She’s in love with you dingus! You think she shows up every day just for the overpriced ice cream? She is in love with you and thinks you just rejected her. So if you ever want to have a chance with her I suggest you run idiot.”

Realisation strikes across his face, he’s up and running before he can even think about what he is doing.

“I’m not an idiot” he calls back to Robin.

God, she hopes he doesn’t mess this up.

-

You don’t even bother going home. Jonathan would only force you to tell him what’s wrong and you don’t quite think you can bring yourself to say the words yet. Steve Harrington has broken your heart. You knew he would, as surely as you knew fire burned and yet it didn’t stop you from playing with fire. You drove to the woods, parking just down the lane from your home and you took off running. You know where you are going, the same place you always go when you are upset, Castle Byers.

You couldn’t breathe, your lungs just refusing to fill with air. Jonathan always said you were too trusting, the sunshine to his cynicism he had once said. But right now you could only regret not listening to him. Castle Byers was filled with nick knacks, some Wills, some Jonathans and some yours. The first DnD character Will had ever painted was in here, sat next to the two he had made you and Jonathan make as well, Wills was the best. There’s a bear sat on the bed; Nancy won it for Jonathan at the fair last Christmas playing can toss – she always had the better aim. And there’s a photo, pinned to the interior, of you and Steve. It was taken at movie night, Steve’s on the sofa and you are sat on the floor at his feet, Dustin having stolen the last seat on the sofa, your head lays on Steve's knees.  You grab the photo and hold it to your chest, curling into yourself in the bed and letting the tears fall.

-

 Steve was a reckless driver at the best of times but right now he was borderline manic. He needed to find you and fix what he had broken without even realising he was doing it. He had loved Nancy and when she left him, he thought he would never feel again, then he saw you stand against Billy to save the kids, he saw Billy hurting you and he felt everything all at once. Your smile ignited his heart. You have a scar down your face that the Demogorgon left when you, Nancy and Jonathan had fought it, he’s heard Tommy H mock you for it a few times but god did Steve not want anything more than to kiss down every single inch of that scar and tell you how beautiful you are. He hopes he hasn’t blown it. The drive down your lane was agonising but he never made it to your house. Your car was parked down the lane – too far to be parked for the house he figured and suddenly he knew exactly where you were. You had told him about it, the fort the three Byers siblings built, the safe place you went when you were hurt. He had hurt you, he realised. He ran to Castle Byers.

As he approached, he realised he had no plan. He had been so focused on getting to you and fixing it he hadn’t thought about how. So now he is left to do what Steve Harrington does best, improvise and so he knocks.

“Hi y/n, it’s Steve. Can I please come in?” he says, his voice coming out as more of a beg.

“Go away Steve.” Its barely more than a whisper but he hears it, his heart twisting.

“Please sweetheart, I’m not leaving without speaking to you. I’ll camp out here all night if I have to. Please.” He is fully pleading now, dignity left back at scoops. He just needs to see you, to know you are okay.

-

“Go away Steve” you whisper, unsure if it’s meant more for him or for you. His response surprises you – he sounds hurt. Which is why you shuffle over to the makeshift door and pull aside the blanket covering the entrance. The last thing you expect to see is him sitting there looking as wrecked as you feel, his perfect hair all out of place like he has been running his hand through it; the scoops hat long abandoned. 

“Y/n” he breathes your name like a prayer.

You simply move to the side to let him in. Its silent for a moment, neither willing to break the silence like it’s something precious.

“What do you want Steve?”

He looks at you, really looks at you, considering his words because after all its his careless words that got him into this in the first place.

“I’m an idiot.” He says.

You raise your eyebrow confused, waiting for him to continue.

“I don’t think before I speak. I say things I don’t mean because I haven’t thought them through. But I have thought these ones through. The kids are the reason I know you…” he pauses to look at you.

You’ve turned away from him at his words, but he raises a hand and turns your head back to him, your eyes meeting the others.

“… but they aren’t the reason I love you y/n Byers.”

He watches your eyes widen, your quick inhale and the way that your entire body tenses up but you stay silent, taking in his words without considering your silence is literally killing Steve Harrington. You take your time, choosing your words carefully but not a single word comes to you.

“What?” you breathe, it might not be your smartest move but hell it’s all you’ve got.

“I love you, kinda have for a while now but I lose the words when you around me. It’s like you steal all my oxygen when you enter the room and god would I give you it willingly.”

“But Steve, you’re Steve Harrington, the King of Hawkins high and I’m just one of the freaky twins. You can’t be in love with me, there’s like basically rules against it.” You reply, breaking the eye contact and looking down at your hands fiddling in your lap.

“You are not a freak!” he assures, “and I don’t want to be the King of Hawkins high, I don’t want to be known as anything but yours.”

“You're serious?” you whisper, again not sure if it's for him or you.

“As a Demodog.” He states, you giggle, raising your head to look at him again; searching his eyes for the last confirmation you needed, and it’s there, he’s there.

“Your ice cream sucks Steve, its too sweet and it all tastes the same.” You have a point, and you are about half way through making it but Steve interrupts.

“I don’t understand..”

“I come and buy your crappy ice cream every damn day because I want to see you Steve. Because I want to hear your laugh as you mock the kids or as Robin mocks you. Because I love you too Steve Harrington.” You confess.

He laughs, the bastard fucking laughs. But then his hand is on your head and he’s pulling you towards him, your lips meet his and suddenly you can’t remember why breathing was so difficult. When you pull away his lips chase yours for a second before you both balance your foreheads against the other.

“Robin was right, I am an idiot” you say, giggling.

“That’s funny because she said something similar to me. Can we never tell her she was right?”

“It would only go to her head,” you agree, “and Steve? I am you know, yours – if you want me to be.”

“Oh sweetheart, I’ve been yours for a long time – you are absolutely never getting rid of me now.”

And just like that, for the first time since Will went missing, Hawkins feels right again -  like all that was missing was you and Steve.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem #stranger things #joe keery #idiots in love #angst #steve

[waves--6821]

Ardent ~ Chp. 32

*Gif belongs to creator/owner*

3rd Pov.

Glass shards and burnt metal pieces covered the floor of the lab, desks and view screens, broken and shattered. The photos of the attack showcasing Loki's infiltration, Louise's eyes scanning over the scenes. She stood outside the medical bay, gazing off in thought, within silence. A pair of footsteps move to her, the signature not making any motion to pass her from in front.

"I heard you let him go." Clint's voice speaks up from in front of her, clear and unburdened from the mystical scepter.

"Not exactly." She answers vaguely, not caring for anyone's criticism.

"Then, how about your powers? Can you elaborate on those?" He pushes, moving to stand next to her.

"Not really. I wouldn't trust myself at the moment to invade your mind and persuade you. It's a bit unstable at the moment." She answers truthfully, wondering why her emotions want to explode through her powers.

"So you can do mind control?" Clint assumes, digging casually but unsubtly.

"Nope. Let Fury know, he's always getting others to ask the same question for that exact answer. I doubt I'd change it now." Louise retorts, giving him a small glance before turning away to return to the main command center.

-

Louise feels Steve's mental presence nearby, her head lifting to the door behind her bunkroom made small for reminisce sake. She softly grabs her holster, sliding her arms up and through her back straps, settling her ki sticks to her back. A holstered gun on her left thigh, two small rows of throwing knives attached to her right thigh, secured tightly along with two matching knives on each ankle connected to her black boots. She adds some blades to the straps of her upper holster at her rib height, securing the last of her weapons to her body. Her scarlet body suit armour made to seem thin, her suit made to withstand her strength force, matching flat boots to keep traction and balance.

"Lou." Steve speaks as he stands in her doorway, watching her pause at his voice.

"I'm ready, Steve. I didn't really get a suit like everyone else, after all, I did all my missions in a dress. Coulson had a few blueprints for me, but who knows where those are." Louise distracts, adjusting her long sleeved top. Her "suit" consisted of a tight crimson thinly armoured top that ended at her bottom ribs, her high waisted pants a dark brown colour with several holsters.

"We'll work on it." Steve jokes, trying to get her to face him. She sighs, double checking her equipment one last time before turning.

"Of course. That is unless you try putting me into that dress again." She returns the joking manner with a light smirk, making Steve match it in energy.

"About earlier, I-"

"You said your peace, Steve. I've said my stance subtly, and maybe I'll explain one day." Louise pauses, as she hopes to figure out her feelings in time. Giving Steve the hope he wanted for the past months.

"Let's get this gang moving, we've got a god to chase." Steve accepts her reasoning and steps out of the room, navigating her to meet in the docking bay with the others of the mighty Avengers.

--

A.N. I just wanted to use this chapter spot as a author's note, so I wouldn't have to use another part for it. I was just wondering if anyone had an questions for this series, like about the main character,  inspirations or hopes for the future parts.

Also, a slight warning, after practically over two years of no inspiration for anything, I finally got a rush of inspiration. So, I sped through the last basic chapters of the series in a few days. I also rewrote some parts I didn't like originally, and practically rushed through the fighting scenes (I dread those with a passion, it's so hard to describe them sometimes). As well as I finished the final long fight scenes, I double checked the spelling and left it be. So, hopefully it flows halfway decently.

Finally, If any one wants a sort of list of the movies my OC's will be in as a main or just featured character, let me know and I'll make a rough draft for the moment, if anyone is interested.

#the avengers #mcu #captain america #steve rogers #oc #thor odinson #tony stark #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #clint barton #loki odinson #nick fury #action #love #angst

[blksuwie1]

RivaMika FanFic Rec List Part 1

Hi friends!

I decided to make this rec list because I've been consuming so much RM fic lately that I've been having a hard time keep tracking of which ones I'm recommending. So, I decided to make this for my selfish reasons lol but I figured this would be good to share since it seems we have some more incoming RM fans our way.

We're currently at 916 RM fics as of today. When I first started reading about this wonderful duo, there were only about 600 or so and it just exploded over the past years. It's so awesome to see our little ship gain some headway.

As always, feel free to add in your own recs! This is merely a beginning list. The links to the fics are attached to the title. I'll include some ratings and brief summary. See the tags below for quick info:

Tags

+ = Completed work

- = WIP

* = nsfw

The Song Remains The Same by MoraLeeWright. Rated M, * and +. What can I say about this masterpiece that hasn't been said already? This is probably the best intro to rivamika that you can ask for. Really good rival to lovers done in a realistic manner. So damn good, you'll consume it in less than three days. Recommended to anyone who is a bit iffy about this pairing and needs some convincing. The smut is beautifully done too. Fantastic slow burn.

Just Until The Storm Has Gone by MoraLeeWright. Rated E, * and +. When I tell you I screamed at some of these scenes! A much more angsty composition to the post canon au fics out there, but done so well. You almost forget how much angst the characters feel when the sweetness of their actions outweigh them. Author is incredible and has more works, but these two are just *chefs kiss*.

Surviving Peace by die-forellex (heatinfreezing). Rated E, * and +. This fic was my first RM fic, and I'll never forget it. It's hot, sweet, and oddly comforting. There's a particular, ahem, mouth on private part scene that always me fan myself in chapter 2. The satisfaction you feel when these two are finally finally happy, it's so wholesome. Just mind the tags--ackerbaby and pregnancy is big in this one.

To you, five years from now by a_sassin. Rated E, * and +. A different take on a post war au that has Eren and Armin alive, trying to navigate their last years as Mikasa returns to them. Oh, and she's pining for a certain captain *grins gleefully*. This is angsty but not as heavy as you'd expect. Very spicy but sweet. Definitely give this a try.

The Sound of Lightning by LycheeGreenTea. Rated M, * and -. Ackerbabies? Ackerbaby. This cute but action packed WIP is such a worthy check out. There's something about Daddy!Levi and Mommy!Mikasa that eats at my rm heart. Another take on a post war au that leaves you wanting more. A spicy scene and some domestic fluff is all you need to want more from this author.

After The War by loneackerman (aka the wonderful @rivaille-13) Rated M, * and -. THIS STORY. Anyone who is reading this can attest to just how amazing the plot and development of these characters are. There's a delicious slow burn element to it, and it's recently been resolved...let me tell you, worth the wait. Author is almost done with the fic I believe, but please check this story out. It's one of the best post war canon healing au's out there.

Same Old Thing by Raewyll. Rated M, * and -. Did someone say underground adventure? This was one of the best stories I had the pleasure of following along for a while now. I think the author has one more chapter left over. This is great for those who want something kind of spicy but not too spicy. The tension, plot, and action are all still there though.

I am from a burning village by @valya-azucena. Rated M and -, possible *. There's so much I want to say about this fic but can't coherently describe how amazing it is. The tension and build up of these characters is so SO good, and I screamed at the last update. 10/10.

Inexorable by @alienheartattack. Rated T and +. Hello modern au! I devoured this fic during work shamelessly. It's short and sweet, and there's just something so hot about the secretary/boss trope that eats me up.

Paths in Constellations by LamentableBrat. Rated E, * and -. HOLY SMOKES. This fic has torn me apart, y'all. When I tell you I cried AND am hotly bothered, no one else can do this but this author. It's an incredible fic and am so excited to see where it goes.

Soldiers Don't Get Happy Endings by heretosayhello. Rated T and -. I had to do a double take when I saw this was rated T because holy heck, this author just writes the tension between them like no other. There's a lot of Ackertalk and new plot lines I'm incredibly jealous of that I didn't think of first. SO GOOD.

Deep Sea Running by @linaxlight (shameless self plug). Rated E, *, and +. Post canon AU of what happens when the old Levi squad comes back to Paradis Island. Everyone else seems to have moved on three years after the ending of the war, and they make their peace saying goodbye to Eren. But Mikasa chose to stay behind back then, and she'll need to face Levi eventually. Sequel has Ackerbabies because I love them.

That's all for now folks! I'll do a part 2 next time.

#rivamika fanfic #rivamika #levimika #fanfic #fanfic list #rec list

[harrypotter-imaginess]

Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info I Instagram I Zine

Based on this Headcanon list (x) : Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! <This is Part 5!>

A/N: As said, I switched to a headcanon list because we have 7 books to get through, and it will take years if I only do the blurbs. Oh, and if you are in the market for some cute pro-Weasley shirts, check out my 'Weasley Suprmeacy' shirt here!

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

* It’s your third year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter’s second, and you’re having a pretty good year so far

* You’ve made your house team, and you’re doing pretty good in school, in fact, you’ve got a knack for potions and herbology

* “Good thing too or we’d be stuck up a creek without ya” Fred says grinning as he watches you show him how to make the simple “cure for boils” potion

* “And not sooner either, these things hurt more than you think” George complains, wincing every time he touches one

* “Well what did you think was going to happen when you tried to go into the girl’s changing room?” You ask with a sigh

* “In our defense we didn’t know it was the girls changing room, we just wanted a shortcut to the pitch”

* You hide a smile, that sounds about right

* Life is pretty good

* Until it isn’t

* “Enemy’s of the heir beware” the words leave your mouth in a murmur

* Your eyes trained on the blood-coated words on the wall

* You think you're going to be sick

* “That’s right you’ll be next mudbloods!” Draco shouts and immediately you feel two hands clasp both of your shoulders

* One is Fred’s and the other is George’s

* They insist on walking you back to your dorm

* “Really I’ll be fine, you should go check on your brother, Ginny was looking a little pale too” you insist but they keep pushing you forward

* “We can do that after you get back to your common room safely”

* If you’re Muggle-born they’re really protective of you over the next few months

* You’ve woken up to taping on your window more than once, yawning as you walk over to see who it is

* Only to see your favorite red-headed pair of doppelgängers

* “Couldn’t sleep” Fred says with a yawn

* “We were too afraid the heir of Slytherin would kill us in our sleep” George adds

* “Best we sleep here, so you can protect us and keep us safe” they finish in unison

* The next morning your dorm mates wake up to see them sleeping on the floor at the foot of your bed, drooling all over each other, wands clasped in their hands

* They absolutely refuse to let you stay in the castle for Christmas

* “Nope, no, no way in bloody hell,” George says defiantly

* “But I want-“

* “If you’ve got a death wish, you can just come home with us and eat mum’s cooking-”

* “So good you’ll go to heaven”

* They’re tugging you to the station before you can even protest

* “What about Ron?” You ask

* “What about Ron? He’s a big boy, besides it looks like those three are scheming-“ George starts

* “Schemings best left to the young ones, us old-timers have no place in it, best for us to go home and have some Christmas pudding, isn’t that right Percy?”

* Percy, who was only passing by gives you three a quizzical look before turning away with a shake of his head

* “Whatever nonsense you’re up to, leave me out of it”

* Fred turns to you with a grin

* “See even Percy agrees, leave the nonsense to the youngins’”

* Percy just keeps shaking his head

* “Come, Ginny, let’s sit somewhere away from them- don’t want you to be around bad influences”

* Their parents are thrilled to meet you

* “So you’re (Y/N)! We’ve heard so much about you-“

* So the twins talk about you at home huh?

* “- from Percy, he says your next in line to make prefect in your house,” she says patting you affectionately on the shoulder

* Percy nods from behind her

* “Cedric’s been recommending you to Sprout” He adds

* Your face burns and the twins grin behind you

* “Prefect (Y/N) I like the sound of that” George says with a mischievous grin

* “Don’t forget us when you’re rich and famous, soaking in the prefect bathroom like a big shot”

* You roll your eyes

* “Well since I’m such a big shot I guess I can overlook when you explode a toilet or two”

* The Weasley’s stay up until well past midnight for Christmas

* Molly knits you a matching scarf for the sweater she gave you last year

* “Well doesn’t it look dashing on you!” She says with a smile and she wraps it around your neck

* George and Fred are nervous you might not like it but you grin

* “I love it”

* George scrambles over

* “You want my scarf too?” He says already unwrapping his from around his neck

* “Take mine too, you look awfully cold,” Fred says

* There’s a Polaroid somewhere of you swaddled in five scarfs while Ginny and the twins laugh

* Percy is in the background looking disappointed- but one of those scarves is how

* At night, when the sleeping arrangements are all drawn up you’re with Ginny

* You lie side by side in her bed, you’re half asleep

* “Can I talk to you about something”

* You yawn and nod, not moving

* And then when she doesn’t say anything you say-

* “About Harry?”

* There’s another silence, but this one feels heavier somehow, and it wakes you up a bit

* “Just send him some chocolates for Valentine’s Day” you yawn patting her shoulder

* “Sign it with ‘your secret admirer’ if it makes you too nervous” you yawn again, feeling your eyes droop

* Is that why she’s been looking so sick lately? Too many nights lying awake at night thinking about a boy who doesn’t share her feelings

* “You know Ginny if something does nothing but cause you pain, and I know it’s not very Gryffindor-like, but you can just walk away from it yknow” you’re slurring, barely awake.

* “I can’t just walk away?” She asks and you nod

* “Of course you can”

* And then you fall asleep

* Completely forgetting about the conversation until it’s Valentine’s Day and you see Harry followed around by a singing valentine

* “So this is the fantastic advice you gave Ginny?” George asks, a teasing smile lifting onto his face

* “I told her to give chocolates! I don’t know a boy alive who doesn’t like sweets”

* “Well where’s our chocolate then?” Fred asks expectantly

* You look to George for some support, but he’s looking at you expectantly too

* “Oh I get it, all your chocolates are saved for pretty boy Diggory”

* You roll your eyes and shake your head while walking away

* What’s up with them and thinking that you have a crush on Cedric

* They do come back to their dorms with small bags of chocolate on their beds, just two pieces each

* But they smile like you gave them a lump of gold

* “Did you make them by hand?” One teases

* “Tasted like they were made with love, and all those warm fuzzy feelings” the other finishes

* You roll your eyes

* “You should just be glad the house-elf I found didn’t mind me taking a bit of chocolate”

* It surprises both of them that you actually did make them by hand

* They were really just teasing

* George is the one to make the first move

* “Well next time you go invite us too, I think it would be fun to learn how to make chocolates”

* George wraps an arm around your shoulders

* “We could give them to Snape and make him think he has a secret admirer,” Fred says with a grin, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders as well

* “Send him a singing Telegraph and everything” George grins

* You shake your head and laugh, what a couple of bozos

* It is pretty funny to see Snape get all flustered though

* They get even more protective when Muggle-born students start getting petrified

* You’re never without one, or both of them

* “Looks like your bodyguard is here,” Cedric says with a teasing smile when he sees George waiting in the corridor outside your class for you

* You nod, moving to go meet him when you feel a gentle touch on your arm

* “Let him know that if he’s ever looking for a career change, I’ll gladly fill the spot” he ruffles your hair before you leave and you can see the teasing coming from a mile away

* But George doesn’t say anything when you walk over to him, walking together to transfigurations in moderate silence

* “So you and Diggory are pretty close” he finally says, breaking the silence

* You look up at him, his eyebrows are threaded together and his mouth is pinched into a frown

* It makes you think about the time you thought that maybe they wouldn’t spend as much time with you anymore when you were brewing the amortentia potion

* “Yeah but we’re closer,” you say bumping your shoulder against his arm, he laughs

* “That’s true”

* The mischievous glint in his eyes returns

* “I doubt he’ll feel the same once he finds out you drool in your sleep”

* You roll your eyes shoving him lightly which earns a laugh

* “I mean really (Y/N), it’s just a bit excessive innit? Most mornings your pillow is more drool than Cotten at this point, you should really get it checked-“

* You shove him harder laughing when he starts laughing

* “Big words from the boy who snores so loud his dorm mates left him floating on the lake”

* “It wasn’t my dorm mates, it was Fred and he did it to because I pretended I was him when I said something that upset Oliver Wood”

* Your eyebrows thread together

* Haven’t seen much of Oliver around now that quidditch has been canceled

* “What did you say?”

* George turns bright red and turns away

* “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time around that keeper for Hufflepuff lately” Wood was especially cranky as of late now that quidditch was canceled for the rest of the year

* And George doesn’t know why, but he gets so irked by it

* What does Wood care who he spends time with off the pitch? It’s not like he’s been taking it easy on you during matches or anything

* “It’s not my fault you don’t know how to talk to someone you’re attracted to”

* And then realizing how it sounded, and flushing red George claimed he was Fred

* He sounded like he was a jealous boyfriend or something

* It’s almost mortifying

* Almost

* “Nothing, don’t worry about it”

* And it’s the first sign for George that someone might have seen something in him that he hasn’t noticed

* But for now that doesn’t matter

* Because you’re here telling jokes like nothing’s changed

* When Ginny gets taken to the chamber you’re sitting with George and Fred in their dorm hugging them close

* You showed up outside their window on your broom, tapping on the glass until they opened it and enveloped you in a hug

* “Maybe it’s just one big mistake, and she’ll pop out any second saying she got lost on her way to the loo”

* “Maybe,” Fred says, but he doesn’t sound like he believes it

* “Everything’s going to be fine,” George says

* And you nod, because you really hope it does

* And by morning Ron and Harry show up covered in dirt with Ginny behind them who looks like she did at first

* With color on her face and vibrancy you haven’t seen on her all year

* “So good old Gildy was a fraud all along huh?”

* “Coulda fooled me”

* And then just like that you’re on the train home

* Joking with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George about Percy’s secret girlfriend

* “It feels like it was just yesterday we were getting off the train and starting the year,” you say slightly wistful

* “Speak for yourself, Oliver Wood nearly killed me at practice with punishment drills for something I said apparently” Fred groans

* “Best to leave the adventuring to the young ones” George grins teasing you as you step onto the platform

* And just like that, it’s over

* And just like that it’ll be a new school year

* And the beginning of a new adventure

#harry potter imagine #harry potter #george wealsey x reader #fred and george weasley imagine #george Weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #Fred Weasley imagine #harry potter headcanon #harry potter hogwarts mystery #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x jacob's sibling #george weasley #george weasley x reader #harry potter x reader

[mggssocks]

Followed

Not My Gif!

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Content Warnings: None just fluff :)

Summary: Spencer makes an Instagram and stumbles across reader’s page.

Word Count: 1,899 words

A/N: This is Season 10 Spencer with Season 13 looks. Also, instead of it being Kate on the team, i put Emily instead because who doesn’t love the season 3-7 team? Also I might make a part 2 depending on how much this blows up. Honestly i’d be happy if i got one like. Anyways.. hope you enjoy!!!

masterlist // part 2 // part 3

It was 8:00 in the morning. Spencer walked in the doors of the bullpen to the bau. He sat his satchel down and began to settle in for a long day of work. It was pretty early so the team wasn’t in yet. Except for Aaron Hotchner who had gotten in an hour prior to Spencer and been in his office ever since. Apparently others had the same ‘get to work early’ mindset as Spencer. Spencer opened a case file but his attention was quickly whipped away due to the sound of the door opening. He sees Penelope Garcia with all her attention focused on her phone. Spencer quirked his eyebrows when she bumped into a fellow coworker and her attention remained on her phone while quickly mumbling a quick “sorry”. As she passed his desk, Spencer decided it would be the great time to speak. 

“Hey, Garcia.” Her feet came to a stop and her head snapped up at him. 

“Boy wonder! I’m so glad you’re here. I really need someone to talk to because if I don’t I’m going to explode!” She sits in the chair across from his desk. 

“Is everything alright?” He leaned back in his chair. 

“No… no everything is not alright. If anything.. everything is all wrong. Very very wrong. I-“ she takes in a deep breath “I was stalking Kevin’s page because the other day I seen him at the mall with another girl. And while I was 56 weeks down in his page, I accidentally liked a picture.” She explained, in a huff. 

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.” Spencer was even more confused now than before she started. 

“I liked a picture that he posted 56 weeks ago!” Her eyes were wide.

“How is that a bad thing?” His lips pouted as he’d never understand social media. 

“Ugh! Reid, you really need to get with the program and get you an Instagram. That means his picture was old and now he knows that I was looking at his page. You understand now?” She asked. 

“Oh. Yeah I understand. It’s bad that he knows you were looking at his page.” He asked as Prentiss, JJ, and Morgan had walked in. 

“Yes. And now I must go into the bat cave and wait for him to call or text me and ask what me lurking on his page was about.” She whined as she stomped her way to her office. 

“What was that about?” Prentiss asked, setting her bags down on her desk. 

“Uhh- rough morning” Spencer shrugged, still not really understanding the whole social media thing. 

“Hey do you guys have an Instagram?” He asked the three. 

“Yeah but I’m barely on it.” Prentiss answered.

“Same here” says Morgan as he takes a seat at his desk. 

“Yeah but I only get on to post the boys and myself sometimes” answers JJ. 

“What about Hotch and Rossi?” He asked.

“Yup! Rossi likes to post about his expensive wine and cigars. Hotch posts Jack every once in a while and a throwback Thursday.” JJ says. 

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed for what seems to be the 100th time that day. 

“He doesn’t know what that is” Prentiss looks over to JJ.

“It’s something you post like an old picture of yourself every Thursday.” Morgan explains.

“Do you guys do that?” Spencer asked.

“I did last Thursday.” JJ pulls out her phone and opened the app. “This was right after Emily, Penelope, and I caught a guy who was trying to pick up Prentiss by pretending to be an FBI agent a few years ago.” She chuckled showing him a picture. 

Spencer takes her phone in his hand and examines the post. 142 likes. 57 comments. He clicks on her name which takes it to her page. 302 followers. As he scrolls, he sees a picture the team took a while ago and sees a little person profile thing the corner and clicks on it causing other names tagged to each individual team member. Except him. After he examined all of their profiles, he gives JJ back her phone and gets to work like the rest of them. He felt a little left out but he knew it was because of his own decisions and not his team. He liked that they didn’t press him about having a social media because they new he was more old school than anything. And it was ironic because he wastage youngest member of the team with the more old school habits. 

When Spencer got home he decided he wanted the social media app. The idea of being able to share with his friends and only his friends excited him. Being able to post about his favorite things for his friends to see without talking their ears off.

He opened his phone and went to the app store, typing “instagram” into the search bar. He followed the sites instructions as he made his account. Using a snapshot he took of his bookshelf as his profile picture. He sees the option to add the people in his contact list which was only his team, mom, and his mother’s caretaker. But everyone’s profile popped up and he quickly followed each and every one of them. Except for his mom and her caretaker of course. 

Soon enough, he got a follow back from Garcia, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ in that order. Morgan and Prentiss weren’t lying when they said they weren’t on often.

After two weeks, Spencer hasn’t posted anything yet, not knowing what should go on his profile. Morgan and Prentiss ended up following him back and the app ended up adjusting to his interests. Nothing but accounts about interesting facts, books, and doctor who. 

It was Friday night and the team had just got back from a case in Chicago. Spencer opened the door to his apartment and set his satchel down on the couch, exhausted. His mind wonders to get something to eat being that he wonders to get something to eat being that he hasn’t ate since before they caught the unsub. Which was about 5 hours and 7 minutes ago but he still needed to get something into his system. Spencer opened his fridge and sees 3 day old Chinese takeout. He shrugs and pops it into the microwave while looking for a book of his to reread while he eats. After he finishes dinner, he gets on his phone and subconsciously pulls up the app. He clicks onto his explore page to discover something else he likes. While scrolling, he sees a picture of someone reading and clicks on it.

765 likes

Yourfriend’sig whenever people ask me what to give you for your birthday or Christmas, I always tell them to get you a book or something green and it works every single time. Happy Birthday to my best buddy, @yourinstagram !

View all 84 comments

Spencer smiles and clicks the heart button and bookmarks it to look at later.  He liked the picture. Both the picture and caption reminded him a lot of his own love for books and the color green (hence his apartment). 

Once he got out of the shower, he brushed his teeth. He found himself subconsciously scrolling through his instagram bookmarks to find her post. He doesn’t know what it was but something about the picture brought comfort to him. As he brushed his teeth, he clicked on the post once again.This time, he actually clicked on your account. It was a private account with 186 followers. The bio read:

Y/N... bookworm.

Her profile picture consisted of a black cat surrounded by either a bunch of well taken care of plants or artificial ones. His finger hovered over the blue “follow” button. As he bent down to spit his toothpaste out, his thumb accidentally clicked the follow button. But he didn't realize so until he looked down again to see the “follow” button replaced with “requested”. His heart basically drops out of his ass. He quickly clicks the button again, taking back his follow. 

It was now one in the morning, Spencer laid in bed awake staring at his ceiling. Once again, he clicks onto the app. He scrolled down his timeline and saw a picture Penelope posted of one of her new desk animals with the caption “Got her at a thrift shop! Isn’t she cute??”. He saw that Hotch and JJ liked 45 other people. JJ also commented with two red hearts. Spencer likes the post and keeps scrolling. His thoughts wander to the post about the girl again. He’s never thought about a social media post this much since he’s created an account. He wonders what sparked his interest so much about this one. As he makes his way to the post, clicking on her account. Debating if he should follow her. She’s a total stranger. Do the others follow strangers? There’s no way JJ knows 302 people in real life. He mentally shrugs and presses the follow button. Requested. Again.

He swipes out of her account back onto the post now seeing that she commented on it.

yourinstagram thank you, bubs! ily to the moon n back <3333

It was commented thirty six seconds ago. Meaning she’s currently active. Again, Spencer’s heart sinks and he immediately regrets his decision. Going back and unfollowing her. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s a mess. Over a stranger. But he feels like an idiot. Reacting the way that he did just because he saw that she was online. So he goes and follows her.... again.

After clearing out all of his apps, he turns off his phone and lays down trying to get some sleep before work in a few hours. His thoughts wander to her. What she was like. if she was nice or mean. If she was socially awkward or very outgoing. Before his thoughts could get too far into what she was like, he receives a notification from instagram. He opens his phone and clicks on the notification. His heart began to pound when he saw it.

yourinstagram would like to send you a message! 

He clicks on it.

yourinstagram You’ve followed and unfollowed me about 5 times in the past 3 hours. Is there something I can help you with?

Spencer completely forgot that other people got notifications and now he felt like some kind of creep.

spencerreid I’m sorry. I came across your friend’s Instagram post wishing you a happy birthday and i guess i got curious and wanted to follow you if that makes any sense. 

He felt so dumb. 

yourinstagram and following me once wasn’t enough for some reason???

spencerreid Sorry about that. I’m new to this whole social media thing and don’t follow any strangers. You are the first person I’m following that I don’t know in real life. Again, my apologies for the disturbance. I’ll unfollow you’re account If you’re uncomfortable with me. 

yourinstagram i just hope that you’re not one of my raging exes, someone trying to catfish me, or a psychopath lol.

Spencer smiled.

spencerreid Nope. Just me.

She leaves him one read. Spencer’s smile fades when he doesn’t see any three loading dots. She wasn’t texting him back. As he’s about to exit the app, he sees two notifications. 

yourinstagram has accepted your follow request!

yourinstagram has requested to follow you.

********

I hoped you like this!!! If this blows up,i will do another chapter!

#spencer reid #dr reid #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #matt simmons #david rossi #cm #emily prentiss #jennifer jereau #penelope gracia #luke alvez #tara lewis #elle greenaway #spencer reid x you #cat adams

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - Taking the Cake (Rated G)

Summary: When Aziraphale decides to host Warlock and Adam's 12th birthday down at his shop, he tells Crowley they'll be doing it without magic. That's all well and good until Crowley is called upon to finish decorating the cake... (1551 words)

Read on AO3.

“Ho there! Mmph... angel? Ngk... ” Crowley grunts, stuffing himself through one door of Aziraphale’s bookshop, the other holding stubbornly to its frame. He barely makes it through, lugging copious bags bulging with party gear, his long fingers curled around handles strained thin by the weight.

"In here, dear," Aziraphale replies, giving no indication that he's coming to help. Crowley picks an aisle and starts walking, navigating the narrow expanse between late 18th century classics and Roman philosophy. 

“I got everything on your list," Crowley says when he spots his husband. "Goodie bags, balloons, streamers, poppers… “ He pauses inventorying when he comes up behind Aziraphale, deeply engaged in the creation of a buttercream rosette.

By hand, no less. 

Aziraphale insisted they throw together this entire party like natives, and that meant no magic whatsoever. Crowley couldn’t understand why. Miracling together a party is literally a snap. They'd done it hundreds of times over the years. It's how they hosted their wedding. 

With a snap.

That did, however, create a mountain of paperwork, which led to Gabriel and his henchmen finding out about their shindig and showing up uninvited. Surprisingly, they didn't cause much in the way of trouble. They snickered a little, made a few snide remarks, but they mostly spent their time "observing" from a table in a far corner, mingling with no one as if above it all. 

Crowley tensed when they arrived, but having a few party crashers didn't go too badly... until the karaoke began. 

“Is that the cake then?”

“Yes. I’m almost done.“ Aziraphale pinches his tongue between his teeth, steadying his hand as he adds a peony this time.

"It's gorgeous," Crowley says in awe. "Truly stunning."

"Thank you, my dear," Aziraphale says, glowing from his husband's praise.

"But... " 

Aziraphale's shoulders instantly go rigid. 

Crowley hates to do this to him. The cake really is a masterpiece of confectionary construction. But it needs to be said. "Warlock and Adam are turning twelve."

"And... ?" 

"Don't you think they might appreciate something a bit more... I don't know.... befitting of a pair of former antichrists? Like a zombie with bleeding eyes? Or a raven with sharp, pointy teeth?"

Aziraphale glares over his shoulder at Crowley as if insanity has finally set in. "Ravens don't have teeth!"

"I know! That's why it would be terrifying! Right up their alleys!"

Aziraphale shakes his head, going back to his peonies. "This is a birthday cake! Not a Halloween cake! Besides, I only know how to make flowers. Anything else would require magic, and you know how I feel about that. Besides, I'm certain they only care about the insides anyway, and it's crammed full of chocolate. I don't think they'll mind a crocus or two."

"Fair enough," Crowley concedes.

The clock in the corner chimes, and Aziraphale sighs. He looks over at it, then double-checks the time on his pocket watch. Crowley checks the time on his watch, too, although he doesn't know what for.

"Three o'clock," Aziraphale observes. "Damn."

"Wot's wrong?"

"I’m afraid I’m running a bit behind.”

“Anything I can do to help?” Crowley asks, piling his sacks on a nearby chair.

“As a matter of fact, I have to pop out for a few," Aziraphale says, handing Crowley the piping bag, "but this cake needs one final touch.”

“And that is?” Crowley holds the bag between his fingers the way he would a dead rat, wary that he might be called upon to construct the same delicate flowers Aziraphale has. Without his magic, Crowley doesn't have anything near Aziraphale's talent with icing. 

Warlock and Adam may just get a gruesome cake after all.  

“I just need it to say 'Happy Birthday Warlock and Adam'.” Aziraphale bustles about, grabbing his coat off the tree and throwing it on. “The handwriting doesn't need to be immaculate, just legible. Could you do that for me?”

“Pfft. No problem," Crowley says, secretly perceiving a problem. "Piece of… “ 

Aziraphale stops on his way out the door to give his husband an exasperated look. Crowley snickers. 

“Well, you know,” Crowley finishes, shooing Aziraphale out the door. "Ta-ta now. Mind how you go."

***

"Damned antique dealers and their damned negotiations! Ignorant bast---" Aziraphale stops short of cursing. It doesn't matter what happened, which was extremely upsetting. There is no need for bad language. He hurries down the crowded sidewalk, going over the details of the past hour-and-thirty in his head. "I was doing them a favor, and look how I'm repaid! I'm late to the party I'm hosting! There's a fine how-do-you-do! Ungrateful humans! See if I stop another Apocalypse for you, in your tacky grey suits and your cheap pointy shoes... "

Aziraphale stomps up to his door, keys in hand, but stops outside when he hears laughter on the other side. He peeks through the dusty glass, and his shoulders sag. 

The party is for the kids. He knows. But he was so looking forward to celebrating with everyone from start to finish. That and he didn't think he'd take this long, so he neglected to relocate his first editions somewhere secure. 

He fears for their safety.

Icing is notoriously difficult to get out of parchment and ligament, even through the use of miracles.

He should have never taken that stupid meeting to begin with. He had a feeling it wouldn't pan out.

Oh well. 

No need wasting any more time on that than already has, he thinks, bucking up and unlocking the door. Time to stop feeling sorry for myself and start celebrating while I still have the chance...

Aziraphale takes a step in, ready to announce his arrival, but stops dead when he hears jazzy scatting in a sonorous voice. 

A voice that doesn’t belong to anyone he knows.

Aziraphale walks in further, scanning those gathered, and makes a minor correction to his original assessment - doesn’t belong to any human that he knows. His eyes blow wide, his cheeks burn red, and his husband's name explodes off his tongue before he even opens his mouth.

"Anthony J. Crowley-Fell!"

Aziraphale doesn't say anything other than his name and Crowley starts apologizing. "I'm sorry, angel!" he says, running across the shop to greet him, but not looking the least bit sorry. 

"I gave you one task!" Aziraphale bellows, snapping his fingers and slamming the door shut, his no-magic edict flying out the window. "Just one little thing! And you couldn't do it!"

"I'm no good at writing!" Crowley defends with the shadows of an infuriating grin on his face. "My hand gets all wobbly! I didn't want to risk ruining any of your lovely flowers!"

Aziraphale, splotchy-faced and buggy-eyed, glowers. "You couldn't write a simple Happy Birthday, so you enchanted the entire cake!? That was your brilliant plan!?"

"I'm a demon! Of course, that was my plan!"

"Crowley!"

"They showed up right after you left! I had no time! I panicked!"

Aziraphale drops his head into his hands, shaking it slowly back and forth. Crowley reaches out to put a comforting hand on his husband's shoulder until he hears him counting backward from one hundred... in Akkadian. Then he creeps his hand to his side and quietly steps off. 

Aziraphale breathes in deep through his nose and out through his mouth, struggling to ground himself. He has no one to blame but himself. That's the painful part. In the back of his mind, he knew something like this might happen. 

He's impressed it isn't worse. 

He should have never left his husband alone.

Next time, he'll hire a sitter.

Aziraphale continues counting, continues breathing, and as he does, he pays more attention to the goings-on around him.

The cake singing is quite unsettling, but the children are gleeful, the adults joyful. Joking, teasing, and enthusiastic conversation fill the spaces in between. 

Much like their wedding reception, except there isn't an archangel in sight. 

And Crowley's magic was instrumental in making that day memorable.

Maybe Aziraphale overreacted with that 'no magic' rule. Crowley's face fell when Aziraphale told him they'd be hosting the boys' birthday at his bookshop sans magic, but he'd recovered quickly. The streamers and balloons Crowley managed to toss on the walls look plenty festive, but they don't compare to what could have been had Aziraphale allowed Crowley to tap into his imagination.

Their guests are having a grand time despite the modest decor, but it could have been so much more. They are an angel and a demon! Between the pair of them, they could have whipped up a true spectacle, if for no other reason than they still owe poor Warlock after last year's fiasco. 

What would have been the harm of calling upon a little divine intervention? 

An alarming thought pops into Aziraphale's brain, and his head snaps up. “They’re going to cut into that, you know. Is that when the enchantment ends?”

“Nope.” Crowley rubs his palms together. “That’s when the fun begins.”

"Uh... "Aziraphale's jaw drops. "Good Lord," he moans, Crowley cackling when Adam runs to fetch the cake cutter. Aziraphale's mind whirls with thoughts of what fun could imply, but there's no time to ask. While Crowley starts laying a drop cloth, Aziraphale puts his coat away and relocates his favorite books into his back room for safekeeping.

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley

[samadiw]

Hogwarts Library - Part 03 😘🔥❤

.

True to his word, Draco left Hermione well and truly alone, except a book she had wanted for ages was waiting for her on the table in their shared dorm and on another occasion her favourite flowers greeted her when she entered after a long day of classes.

H : "I know what you're doing, Malfoy."

D : "Haven't the foggiest, Granger."

He closed the book he was reading, walked into his room and closed the door behind him.

Hermione couldn't help but smile, she plucked a long stem rose out of the bunch, inhaled deeply, took it with her and placed it on her bedside cupboard.

The man was getting under her skin, she was shocked that he knew so much about her.

But strangely after that sweet gesture, everything stopped.

Malfoy barely looked at her, he was always deep in conversation with Blaise or Theo but would light up like a bulb when the owls brought their morning post.

Hermione couldn't help but feel resentful.

Despite her overall, fuck him approach, there was a softness in his eyes that melted or rather clawed it's way into her heart.

She thought about him more often than she should.

Cheating sodding bitch, she silently berated herself.

A beautiful owl enters and lands gracefully in front of Draco.

Hermione huffs.

H : "Who the heck keeps sending him letters?"

Ron looks her way and raises a brow in question.

R : "Did you say something, darling?"

Someone was talking to her, oh, it was her boyfriend.

Hermione swallows hard and vigorously shakes her head.

H : "No, nothing, just practising a spell."

She can't help but stare at the Slytherin table, Malfoy pockets the letter after a meaningful glance at it.

2 days to 2 weeks

Professor Slughorn (PS) impatiently yells over the noise.

PS : "Yes, yes, hurry up and take your seats."

PS : "Good, is everyone settled?"

Slughorn frowns at Seamus and shakes his head disapprovingly.

PS : "Thanks to Mr Finnigan's latest dung bomb explosion, we are forced to abandon the classrooms and conduct classes in the library."

Seamus looks around him sheepishly.

Madam Pince : "Hmph.."

PS : "Granger, Malfoy, bring your cauldrons to the front."

Hermione looks up in shock and Ron's ears turn bright red.

She weakly protests.

H : "But sir, I already have a partner."

Slughorn tuts his disapproval.

PS : "Mr Weasley will survive without your assistance for the duration of the class:"

Hermione tries one last time.

Draco is already at the table in front and staring at her smugly.

H : "But..."

PS : "No buts, Miss Granger, I have a rather complex potion for you to brew with Mr Malfoy."

Hermione sighs in defeat, gathers her things and make her way to the front.

She clumsily arranges her things, avoids the ice blondes gaze and mumbles to herself.

H : "Stupid Slughorn."

Draco rolls his eyes and hisses.

D : "Stop your muttering, Granger, I have no wish to paired up with you either."

His smell was fucking with her again, what in the name of heaven was in his bloody cologne?

Hermione reels back from the insult.

H : "Oh really? Who's singing a different tune now?"

Draco raises a brow.

D : "What are on about?"

Hermione hesitates but gathers her Gryffindor bravado.

She keeps her voice low.

H : "I thought you liked me."

Draco narrows his eyes.

D : "And you made it clear that you didnt return my affections, am I supposed to wait for you to realize how incredibly thick you are?"

Hermione feels a tightness in her chest and struggles to find the words.

H : "I, umm..."

Draco loses his patience.

D : "Stop stuttering like a fool, show me the list of ingredients."

Hermione bites back a nasty retort.

H : "You are unbelievable."

Draco let's out a sarcastic laugh.

D : "Says the woman who told me to leave her the fuck alone."

Hermione pushes the list of ingredients towards him roughly.

H : "Here, take the bloody paper, I hope you choke on it."

Draco points to the jars and viles that already litter the table and muses.

D : "Make yourself useful while I fetch the ingredients."

Hermione presses her lips together and a wave of emotions wash over her and she fights the urge to not cry.

Oh, fuck no, she would not shed a tear for the incorrigible wanker.

Hermione lights a fire under the cauldron and starts to add the few ingredients they already had.

She cuts the beans with more force than necessary and sneers.

H : "Stupid fucking Slytherin, who the hell does he think he is?

Draco is highly amused by her reaction to his indifference.

D : "Granger, you need to stir anti clockwise, it's right here in the bloody book."

Hermione jumps at the voice and almost cuts herself.

H : "Can you not sneak up on me."

Draco eyes her fingers to make sure shes still in one piece and then scolds.

D : "Can you please concentrate, the faster we finish this, the faster I can send my owl to Victoria."

Hermione's mouth drops open.

Who the fuck was Victoria? Definitely not a girl in their year.

She crosses her arms over her chest.

H : "Victoria?"

Draco looks away dreamy eyed and smitten.

D : "Yeah, a woman I'm seeing, she's an old family friend."

Hermione retorts sarcastically.

H : "How bloody marvellous for you, this is exactly why I wanted nothing to do with you."

D : "And you were right, Victoria is the most intelligent woman I've ever met, she's the one, Granger."

Hermione fumes at the stupid words coming out of Draco's ridiculously luscious mouth.

Fuck no, intelligence was her thing and no bloody bint was going to take that away.

She conveniently forgot that she had never met this Victoria person.

His words hurt, they hurt bad and Hermione couldn't remember when she had come to care about Malfoy.

Hermione turns away and returns to cutting the ingredients.

H : "Well, good for you."

Draco eyes the woman next to him intently.

D : "Thanks, Granger, shit, I forgot one more vile."

Hermione quickly wipes the angry tears before he returns.

Tears? Really? You pathetic fool.

Draco watches from the small crack in the enchanted supplies room and grins, she was definitely coming around.

Playing hard to get had definitely paid off.

He walks back to their shared table confidently and adds the vile to the other complicated ingredients.

Draco starts to skin the crocodile tail.

D : "You okay, Granger?"

Hermione mumbles.

H : "Yes, I'm fine."

Draco softens his tone and decides he's messed with her enough.

D : "Hermione?"

The way her name rolls off his tongue sends shivers down her spine.

She asks in frustration.

H : "What?"

Draco moves closer and leans over her small frame.

His hand slips under the table and grabs hold of her thigh, his fingers dig into the flesh and a gasp escapes her lips.

He whispers almost reverently.

D : "You. Are. All. I. Want."

Hermione looks up at him, her breathing elevates and she bites her lip.

H : "Draco..."

Draco removes his hand off her person and stares ahead, his expression has changed from loving to murderous.

D : "Not here, not now, your boyfriend is glaring a hole in my rather handsome head."

Draco calls out over the noise of other students chatting.

D : "What the fuck are you staring at, Weasley?"

Ron looks as if he's about to explode, his ears are the shade of rip tomatoes.

R : "I'm watching you, Malfoy."

Draco smirks triumphantly.

D : "Then watch closely."

Draco tenderly caresses Hermione's cheek.

Ron flexes and makes his way over.

Hermione steps away, glares at Draco and stands inbetween the tall men.

She places a hand on Ron's chest and the other on Draco's arm and pleads for them to calm down.

Gryffindor and Slytherin stare daggers at each other and everyone has stopped what they were doing to watch the scandalous scene that was unravelling before them.

Professor Slughorn's alarmed voice cuts through the tension.

PS : "What in Merlin's name is going on? Back to your seats."

Ron balls his hands into fists and threatens.

"R : This isn't over, Malfoy."

Draco sneers and stares the redhead dead in the eye.

D : "I look forward to it, Weasley."

Hermione looks at them and dreads the walk back to the Gryffindor common room.

Fuck, her life was going to become very complicated.

#dramione #draco and hermione #draco x hermione #hermione granger #draco lucius malfoy #dramionefandom #dramionefanart #dramione smut #dramione fanfic

[beatricethecat2]

"This is nice," Myka says, sipping her beer while surveying the bar.

"Consuming alcohol in a public house?" Helena asks.

"Yeah," Myka says, eyes angling down as she picks at her label. "Working with Pete...this wasn't a thing I could do much. Then Steve and I had a drink here, and I remembered what it was like. I used to go on my own in DC just to unwind. Feels like a lifetime ago."

“In many ways it was," Helena says, idly stiring the ice left in her drink. "Could you ever have imagined the company you now keep?"

"I don't think so," Myka says, shifting closer to Helena. "But I like it, a lot. Doing this with you feels...normal. Two people, spending time together, not a care in the world."

"You care for nought?" Helena says, fingers tracing a line from Myka's thumb to her wrist where her hand rests on her thigh.

"Ok, one care," Myka says, eyes flicking up to meet Helena's. "Hey, I know that look. We said we'd stay for the band tonight, not just hole up in our room."

"Is there not another band tomorrow?"

"Yeah, but we said we'd stay for this one." Myka slips her hand from Helena's.

"As you wish," Helena says, settling back on her stool, frustration evident in her tone.

"More drinks, ladies?" the bartender says. "The band's about to start."

"I shall need one," Helena grouses.

"Stop being dramatic," Myka snips.

"Fine," Helena snaps. "Bourbon. Neat. Top shelf, please," she instructs the bartender.

"Comin' right up." The bartender steps away to complete the order.

"Oh, we're getting drunk now, are we?" Myka quips.

"When in Rome..."

"I'd actually like to see that, a drunk H.G. Wells," Myka says, poking Helena in the arm.

Helena flinches. "You may very well if you keep behaving as such."

"Seriously though, when's the last time you drank enough to let your guard down, even a little."

"In the company of others? Not in recent memory. And you?"

"Same."

"Here you go," the bartender interrupts, setting the tumbler on a napkin in front of Helena. "Another beer?" she asks Myka.

"You know what? I'll have the same." Myka waves her bottle at Helena's drink.

"Cavalier, Ms. Bering."

"We'll keep each other in check. We deserve to get super tipsy, at least."

"Color me intrigued."

The band strikes its first cord just as Myka's drink arrives. She tugs Helena's arm, and they relocate to a table near the stage.

-----------------

The Adventures of Bering and Wells ("Warehouse 13" Season 5 replacement) Season 1: Episode 4 Title: New Orleans: Laissez les bon temps rouler!

Summary: Myka and Helena follow whim rather than duty, driving south, detouring around Washington DC, avoiding a second emotional rabbit hole so early on. After a wi-fi-free week in a cabin, deep in the Blue Ridge Mountains, they feel ready to tackle urban density again. ("The Rockies are better," Myka declares. "We'll go there, too.) Vowing to stay as touristy as possible, the pair head towards history-filled New Orleans. But far too soon their carefree trip hits a snag and they're in need of Warehouse help.

Previously: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3

-----------------

***BONUS SCENE***

"Exactly how touristy have you been?" Abigail asks.

"Pretty touristy," Myka answers.

"Practically flâneurs," Helena says, grinning as Myka looks up at her with sparkly eyes.

"Well, that narrows it down," Steve mutters, typing into the keyboard. "Let's start with your hotel. Why'd you pick the carriage house?"

"The lack of adjoining suite and the king-sized bed."

"Helena!" Myka smacks Helena on the arm. "Because it's cute and charming."

"So this ghost isn't listed on their website? Wedding dress woman, Civil War soldier, dancing patio woman?" Steve asks.

"No. And the manager hadn't recognized the description I gave," Helena explains.

"So not all ghosts," Abigail says.

"If seeing them is normal," Myka says.

"Let's say the ones on their website are but H.G.'s isn't," Steve says.

"Are we to assume I've been 'whammied' then?" Helena says.

"You freeze in place. I have to shake you out of it," Myka explains.

"Perhaps I'm studying the phenomenon."

"You're never that still. It's creepy."

"Then I think we should consider it," Abigail says.

"Where else have you been?" Steve asks.

"Um, everywhere?" Myka answers. "That blacksmith's bar you and I went to. And The Gas and Lights Museum--"

"Such memories. So many details wrong," Helena gibes.

"On a carriage ride--"

"Highway robbery! Sixty-five dollars for a turn around the park. And not in the least authentic."

"You said it was nice!"

"I said it was familiar. The sound of it took me back," Helena says.

"I thought you'd like it." Myka leans back and looks up at Helena questioningly.

"I enjoyed the company quite thoroughly," Helena says, laying her hands on Myka's shoulders and grinning down at her fondly.

"Aww," Steve coos.

"Did anything about the carriage ride scream 'lady ghost will now appear at will?" Abigail asks.

"Not to my knowledge," Helena says.

"We also went to the Pharmacy Museum. And on a steamboat ride," Myka adds.

"Not that I'd have stepped foot on that death trap without proof of modern safety precautions. In my day, they exploded frequently," Helena explains.

"Ok...let's start with the Pharmacy Museum," Abigail says as Steve types. "Could this woman have afforded a doctor?"

"She often appears in her Sunday best, but also in, shall we say...less. She didn't strike me as particularly monied."

"Did she look sort of vampire-ish?" Steve asks. "I'm reading that people with consumption were rumored to be vampires due to how the disease aged them."

"I'm familiar with that premise, and no, this woman was not withering away."

"Could she have died on a steamboat?" Abigail asks.

"She doesn't give off that sense. There's a calm about her. She's not in danger."

"Let's try another angle. The neighborhood you're staying in, Storyville, claims to be the birthplace of jazz," Abigail says, reading over Steve's shoulder. "Maybe she's related to that?"

"Myka took me to hear this 'jazz,' and I can't say I was at all impressed."

"I like it. Steve does, too. You really hated it?" Myka asks.

"The bleat of the saxophone evokes vaudeville for me."

"Play her some Charlie Parker. Or John Coltrane. That might change her mind," Steve suggests.

"Does this relate to our ghost?" Abigail presses.

"I don't see a connection," Helena answers. "Her dress is previous to that of jazz, of an age closer to my own."

"Storyville was once a legal bordello district," Steve explains. "The whole neighborhood was shut down in 1917. So maybe she's from then?"

"That makes sense," Myka says.

"Do you see her inside or outside?" Abigail asks.

"Thus far, outside."

"But," Myka protests, "last night, when we were...t-the blindfold, you said 'just in case.'"

"Did that not heighten our activities?"

"That's not the point. I can't believe you--"

"Punish me later, darling--"

"Why don't you two hash this out, and we'll get back to you," Abigail suggests.

"Wait, is this her?" Steve asks.

Steve shares a black and white photo of a woman, seated outdoors, in front of a makeshift white backdrop, her hair styled into a modest, shoulder-length coif. Her linen top, trimmed with lace, hangs off one shoulder, and a string of pearls adorns her neck. Her lipstick, rendered as a middle grey, matches the kohl lining her eyes, giving her a soft, silent movie-era look.

"Hm, possibly."

"Here's another."

Helena leans further over Myka's shoulder, looking closely at the image. "Yes, I believe that is her."

"That's, um, really off the shoulder. Shoulders..." Myka says. "Isn't that kind of racy for the time?"

"Quite tame compared to some. Her expression is unusual, contemplative almost, recalling solemn greek statues rather than the usual fodder meant to titillate men's desires."

"How would you know?"

"One encounters all sorts of materials as a Warehouse agent," Helena says with a smirk.

"As an agent. Uh-huh."

"Listen to this," Steve interrupts, "these prints were made from a stash of glass negatives found locked in a desk drawer years after the photographer died. Many are of Adele, the woman you're seeing, but there are other women, too. They were shot in the 1910s, but these prints were made in the '60s. If there were any original prints, they were never found."

"May I see the images again?"

Steve cycles through and adds a few more, one depicting a roll-down desk with a shrine of photos arranged above, all of women, vignetted portraits and romantic depictions of the female form more typical for the time.

"Not sure if that last one is related. But it says it's by the same photographer."

"Could you send that one over? I'd like to look more closely."

"Sure."

Myka trades places with Helena, and Helena clicks the link. She enlarges the photo and inspects the array of images.

"I vaguely recall flicking through a basket in a shop with ephemera such as this. Perhaps this ghost woman was amongst it, but printed in a manner such as the images depicted here."

"So you're saying the photo in the shop might be a photo from this photo?"

"That is what I'm hypothesizing."

"So when you see her, you freeze like you're her photograph trapped in this photograph."

"Or perhaps I am her, caught in the decisive moment of the image being captured."

"That's really meta," Steve says.

"No matter what, neutralizing that photo should do the trick," Abigail suggests. "Heck, neutralize everything in the basket, just in case."

"Do you remember which shop you were in?" Steve asks.

"My recollection is hazy at best due to the copious amount of drink someone encouraged me to consume the evening previously."

Helena looks at Myka and scowls. Myka looks back, endearingly.

"I don't get hangovers."

"Lucky you," Helena quips.

"I hope you find it soon," Steve says, "because being happy looks good on both of you. You should get back to that."

"Thank you, Steve. And thank you, Abigail, for all your help," Helena says.

"Anytime," Abigail says.

"Have a great trip. Send some postcards!" Steve says.

"What a marvelous idea," Helena replies.

"Isn't flicking through postcards how we got here?" Myka warns.

"Shall you pre-screen everything I touch from now on?"

"Maybe I should--"

"We're hanging up now," Abigail says.

The screen goes blank as Myka and Helena devlove further into playful bickering.

*End Scene*

-TBC-

NOTES: "Laissez les bon temps rouler!" is Cajun French for "Let the good times roll." In season four, Steve and Myka go New Orleans and both say they like jazz, so I'm not making that up. I see Myka as more of fan of popular tunes - Billy Holiday, Duke Ellington, Nat King Cole, etc., whereas Steve would know the genre through and through (and try as he might, never gets Claudia quite on board with it all). The photographer is E. J. Bellocq - I was going to incorporate that more, but the politics behind photos I mentioned is...complicated. I want this B&W show to focus on our ladies journey, artifacts are side-plot motivations. But if you're interested, look him up, and I suggest reading both Susan Sontag and Nan Goldin's essays for some clarity on why the images hold the status they do. From the research I've done, his images are plastered all over Storyville businesses, so if you've been there, you've seen at least one. Oh and I had a roommate once who could drink anything and never got a hangover. Some people are lucky like that.

#BERING AND WELLS #w13 #fanfiction #fan art #Myka Bering #Helena HG Wells #new orleans #road trip! #canon divergent au #it's nice using the characters you like and wish had more screen time in spin off shows #while others need not appear

[yourneighborbakugou]

A Weeks Adventure (Part 2)

Pairing:  Bakugou Katuski x Reader Warnings: mentions of smut Read Part One Word Count: ~4k A/N: Happy Birthday to our gremlin Bakugou! There’s so much birthday content out right now for Bakugou I can’t wait to read them all! I hope you all enjoy this because lowkey, sis stayed up super late to finish it and my eyes this morning felt like they were going to explode. It’s not perfect but I hope you like it. Thanks for reading 😊

“I will beat you, Bakugou Katsuki.”  You take your napkin and tuck it in your shirt and stare into the soul of your husband’s eyes.

“And I will enjoy every second of it.” Your eyes darken as the competitor in you takes over. 

“I’d like to see you try.” Bakugou tucks his napkin into his shirt as well, ready for the challenge. 

“Ladies and gentlemen.” A lady speaks through the intercom. “The competition for the most bowls of spicy tonkotsu ramen eaten in 5 minutes, begins….NOW!” 

5 minutes later, the whistle is blown and all competitors raise their hands. You gulp down the soup you’ve held in your cheeks and count your bowels--6. Six bowls, you think you’ve done a good job considering others next to you barely had 5. Turning to Bakugou your eyes widened as you recounted his bowls for a 3rd time--10 bowls!! 

Bakugou wipes his lips and if you could swipe the shit eating grin he had right now you would in a heartbeat. So how did you both end up here at an eating competition? Let’s rewind 5 days. 

Sunday

The sun rises on Sunday morning brighter than Bakugou remembers. Today was the first day of his week off. Snuggled next to him laid your figure, enclosed inside his arms. He takes a moment to snuggle his nose on your head before pulling you closer to him, as if you weren’t already close enough. 

“‘Suki, what are you doing?” You chuckle as you felt his hold tighten. 

“Should I stop?” He placed a kiss behind your ear. 

“Stay. 5 more minutes yeah?” You asked teasingly though you knew what the answer would be.

“How about the whole week?” 

You immediately open your eyes, turn to him in disbelief. 

“That’s not cool, Bakugou Katuski.” You pout which only makes him laugh. He knew you meant serious business when you called him by his full name. 

“Should I call Ei that I’m heading in then?” He perks a brow your way, challenging you to fight him if you felt he was lying. 

You both lay in silence for a few seconds as the fact that he had the whole week off sets in. Bakugou knew you were happy when your lips began to slowly curve before a full blown smile emerged. You threw your arms over him in excitement and snuggled your face on his neck. 

You wasted no time having your husband all to yourself the entire week. Today you chose to relax at home to binge watch your favorite show and plan activities for the week. Midway through the opening, your mind starts to wander. What exactly would you both do? You had only planned for 2 days of activities. 

“Earth to Y/N.” Bakugou flicks your forehead. “You missed half the show, woman. I thought you wanted to watch this?”

You apologize and explain your worries to him. Having him for the entire week, though you’re super happy about it, it feels wrong since you weren’t sure what you both would do with the extra time off. 

“You worry too much.” Is all he says before getting up to cook lunch for you both. You sit across the counter creating a list, mumbling like Deku would with his hero analysis, debating about things you both can do. You’ve looked at numerous websites online to get ideas but only a few ideas have really stood out.

Bakugou brings a plate of food over to you and takes a peak at what you’re doing--a fresh piece of paper with a list and a crumbled old note that looks like ideas you had for the 2 days you originally planned for. 

You stop writing to take a bite from your husband’s deliciously home cooked meal and Bakugou takes this opportunity to snatch your list to read. Reading down the list, he immediately read the last bullet again to make sure he read it right. 

Visit a temple? -- Absolutely 

Hiking - No, you do this regularly and you don’t want to be sore

Gym - Absolutely not. 

Beach -- A must

Skydiving -- Why pay for this when your husband can do this for free

Food adventure -- Yes!

Picnic -- yes yes yes! 

Watch a movie -- plan Z if all else fails

Make babies

You’ve been happily married for 3 years and the talk of having children comes from time to time. You both agreed that until you’re both ready, the other won’t push for it. 

He slowly moves the paper away from his face and you ready yourself with a big smile. This was one of the many surprises you had for him. You were ready to be the mother to his children. 

Seeing your expression he understood. His heart exploded at your confession and for a second, you swore you saw tears form in his beautiful red eyes, eyes you can’t wait for your children to have. 

“That’s not cool, Bakugou Y/N.” He teased with your famous line earlier that morning.

Monday

Locking the front door to your home, you excitedly walk over to your car where Bakugou was already in the front seat, ready to go. Opening the passenger door, you take a seat and the smile you carried from the front door to your car doesn’t cease. 

“Ready?” He placed his hand on your thigh. 

“Ready.” You hold his hand in yours and the excitement for the next few days of what you both planned was now in motion. 

First stop? Visiting a temple for offerings and prayers. 

The temple wasn’t crowded, thankfully. You drag Bakugou along, buying food from the stalls nearby for breakfast--everything from sweet to savory. You take a bit into your fresh taiyaki and hum in approval. Bakugou steals a bite from your taiyaki before nodding in agreement and walking away. 

“Hey, you thief!” You trail behind him laughing.

With a full stomach, you head to the temizuya (water pavilion) for cleansing. Together, you both gently toss a coin into the saisen-bako (offertory box) before making your way to the bell on the haiden to make your prayer. You bow twice to greet the kami-sama (deities), then clap twice to show appreciation, and end with a silent prayer. On cue, you both do your last departing bow. 

The air after prayer always gets you. It was a strange, calm feeling. What did you pray for? You both thought. Bakugou wears a faint smile as he holds your hand firmly in his.  Hand in hand, you descend the temple. 

With the sun setting in the distance, and the drive to your destination being a few hours away, you let yourself slowly drift to sleep. 

Tuesday - Birthday Boy

Today was the big day -- Bakugou’s birthday. Day 1 of your 2 day plan for your husband--watch the sunrise, picnic, make babies. 

Your face warms at the thought of the last activity. Stepping out of the bathroom, you watch Bakugou lay in bed shirtless. Yeah, you were so ready for the last activity. 

Bakugou stirs awake when a familiar figure lowers onto him. His instinctively holds you by your hips and gives you a gentle squeeze. You pepper his face with kisses which cause him to smile. 

“You’re up early.” He speaks in his morning voice--deep and so, so hot. 

“We have to leave soon before we miss the sunrise.” You give him one last kiss on his cheek. 

Bakugou opens an eye to look up at your figure. You’re already all dressed and ready to go. With the warm weather this week, even the early morning couldn’t escape the heat. It’s not a surprise to him that you opted for a tank and shorts. 

When you feel the tint in his boxers you know exactly what he was thinking. 

“Suki, no.” You protest, ready to get off him but his firm grip on you doesn’t allow you to. 

“Birthday boy calls the shots.” In an instant, he has you flipped and on your back. “And I say the sunrise I want to see is right here.” 

He’s fingers dance on your waist, kissing you by your ear, making his way back to your lips. Your resolve crumbles as he takes the lead. With your consent, he helps you out of your clothes and the desire in him fuels him to love every inch of your body. Bakugou made sweet love to you as the sun rose in the distance.  

~~~~

“What a beautiful day, don’t you think?” You raise your arms, soaking in the sun. You pack the baskets and blankets into the trunk of the car in a hurry. 

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going yet?” Bakugou walks out towards you putting in his orange tee. 

You’re too busy admiring your husband to let the annoyance in his tone bother you. 

“If you keep looking at me like that we might not go anywhere today, sweetheart. Unless…” Bakugou lowers himself to you and stops a breath away. 

You want to protest so bad but god, he looked so good and when you really think about how lucky you are to be his wife you can’t help but feel so much pride. You had the Bakugou Katsuki, aka Pro Hero Dynamight. 

You were his Bakugou Y/N. 

You knew he was teasing by stopping a mere breath away. Getting another kiss wouldn’t be so bad. You leaned in fast to steal a kiss. But not fast enough. Bakugou anticipated your steal. 

“Didn’t you say we were going to be late?” He leans back and walks past you. 

You’re left feeling embarrassed that he caught on. Even after all these years, you still get butterflies like the first day you met. 

The drive to the cliff you wanted to have a picnic at was not far. Better yet, you both had the place to yourselves. 

“Wear these.” You hand your husband a black silk eye mask who was leaning on the driver side door.

“It’ll only be for a minute, I promise.” You add, feeling the protest in his eyes. 

“Fine.” He says before he pulls the mask over his eyes and you get to work. 

Bakugou is focused on your movements since it’s the only thing ensuring him that you were okay. He hears your footsteps go to the trunk before hearing the trunk open. The car gently shakes as you remove something you’ve packed in the morning. 

Last night, he woke up sometime after midnight when he heard noises coming from the kitchen. Leaning against the bedroom door, he did his best to hide in the shadow of the darkness as he watched you prepare for today. 

All his life he’s always wondered if he was worthy of anyone’s love. He was grumpy, loud and brash and you were anything but that. He’s never wished time would stop until he met you--your gorgeous E/C eyes that twinkles in the light, beautiful smile that made his heart beat faster, and when you call him by his name he swears he can’t breath. 

Watching you from afar prepare what seems to be lunch, he’s reminded how special you are to him. Bakugou retreats from the door and back to bed to let you finish the surprise he knows you worked so hard to prepare. 

It’s been a few minutes since he’s heard you return to the car. He calls out to you but hears nothing. 

“Y/N!” He calls one more time. He doesn’t let another second pass after you don’t respond. Removing the mask and looking around, his eyes adjust to the blinding light. 

When the blinding light begins to color the world around him, the first thing he spots in the distance is you. You’re standing in front of a blanket with food all around and holding a cake with a sparkling candle. 

Bakugou is yet again, mesmerized by your spirit and love. He smiles making his way to you before stopping a few feet away. 

“Matcha flavored with whipped cream, just the way you like.” 

The candle fizzle out and the words you’ve written on the cake are now visible. 

To The Love of My Life. 

“Happy Birthday, Katsuki.” You say, grabbing his attention. “May this year bless you with good health and fortune.”

“I wish the world would stop for a second to let me appreciate you more.” Bakugou lowers his forehead to meet yours. A gentle kiss seals the birthday wish.

The next few hours were spent basking in each other's company away from the city noise. With only a few hours left til sunset, you both head back home.. You still had one more gift for him. 

Bakugou opens the sliding door in your shared bedroom to allow the ocean breeze in. He takes a seat on the sofa outside and waits for you to join him. 

“Hey.” You called out to him shly. When Bakugou turns to see you, he’s breathless. 

You wore a black and green bustier, matching black lace panties and to finish the look, an orange gartier. Bakugou loved seeing you in his colors. 

“Do you like it?” Though Bakugou has seen you bare many times, the intensity of his eyes still makes you feel shy. 

The tightness in his sweatpants further grows and the uncomfortable mess you got him in makes his growl. Bakugou motions you to walk over to him with two fingers, tapping his lap for where you need to sit. You follow his command and take a seat on his lap. His bulge teases you as he adjusts himself lower on the sofa. All day, he’s been a tease. But here in the bedroom, you know how to make him crumble just as much. 

“You know, they say men’s testosterone level increases at this hour.” You lower yourself to meet his lips. “Increasing the chances of pregnancy.” 

Bakugou growls in heat, hands finding its home on your hips, digging into your flesh to hold you still as he tries to release some pressure from his groin.  

“Daddy Bakugou.” You say in the sexiest way he’s ever heard you say. “Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think so ‘Suki?” 

Bakugou leans forward to kiss you but just as he teased you this morning, you do the same. You pull back before he can find any pleasure from your lips. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” Bakugou is growing frustrated at your teasing. With his strength and build, he can easily overpower you; but something about you taking the lead makes you so fucking sexy right now. He’s so turned on. 

You can’t deny that you are turned on right now either. The show you’ve put on so far took so much courage you were afraid you weren’t going to get through the first line. With the heat intensifying within, you can’t hold much longer either. 

Crossing your arms behind Bakugou’s neck, you cradle your face to his. 

“Please give me a baby, Katsuki.” 

Wednesday

“Ten more minutes of stomping folks. Your very own wine bottle from grapes you harvested and aroma’s you selected are minutes away from completion.” The wine instructor announces to the group. 

You can’t stop laughing at Bakugou’s expression as your feet stomp the purple grapes below into liquid. The thought of drinking the liquid afterwards horrifies Bakugou even more. The instructor had explained that the delicate balance of the acid, sugar and alcohol that is added to each batch means human pathogens can’t survive. You’re more likely to be stung by a bee than for your wine to taste like feet the instructor explained. 

“Congratulations! You’ve just made a one-of-a-kind wine. What would you like to name your wine?”

“Y/Nsuki” You both say at the same time, a nickname you’ve received from your friends. 

The worker processes the label and sticks it on 3 wine bottles. It’ll take 2-3 weeks before you can actually consume it but it’ll be worth the wait. Before heading out, you purchase another bottle of the favorite wine you both had that day for an evening drink. 

“My feet feel weird.” Bakugou complains on the ride home. “I can’t believe you made us do that.” 

“I thought it was rather fun making our own wine.” You snuggle the wine on your lap closer. Today was a success! The last two days were everything you planned it to be and Bakugou seemed to have enjoyed it as well. 

It’s now half way through the week which means your getaway was almost over. Getting home, you and Bakugou climb into the outdoor sofa to enjoy the sunset yet again. With a glass of wine in hand, you reminisce about the past. 

“Do you still remember when we met?”

“Of course.”

“Remember when you asked me out?”

“Is this a test or something?” He arched a brow. 

“Remember what you said to me?”

“It’s always been you.” He looks over his shoulder, reciting the memory to you. 

“And I will choose you everyday.” You respond, reciting the rest of the memory. 

The wine makes its way to your head and your feeling confident in your drunken state. Leaning an arm on the cushion, you face Bakugou who takes another sip of wine. 

“Remember when I challenged you to the Bamboo challenge?” you chuckled drunkenly. “And then you kissed me? I was so shocked. I think it was that moment I fell stupid hard for you.”

Bakugou was about to take a sip before you made your confession. You’ve never told him this before.

“It felt like yesterday when you proposed to me. I am the luckiest woman alive to be able to say the strongest, sexiest, and most powerful hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight is my husband.” You giggle, only to fall forward more than intended. Bakugou catches you before lifting your body to snuggle on him. 

“See, I knew my strong sexy husband will catch me.” The alcohol pushes your eyelids shut and the strength to fight against it was no more. “‘M lay r’e hr” You mumbled incoherently as sleep took over. 

The sun had finally set and the only noise left was the crashing of the waves on shore. For the fourth time this week, Baugou wished he could freeze time to appreciate you longer.

Thursday 

“The goal is to go shop for things that remind us of each other. We both have 30 minutes each to shop.” You explained to your husband who is more than thrilled for a challenge he knew he was going to win easily. 

An hour later you both are back at your home sitting across each other on the kitchen island. 

“Ready?” You both grab onto item #1 hidden underneath you. 

“Something that is their favorite color. 3...2...1!”

You place orange socks on the island while Bakugou pulls a F/C mug out. 

“A favorite snack 3...2...1!”

You pull a bag of wasabi flavored chips and Bakugou pulls out a box of cookies-n-cream pocky sticks. 

“A favorite drink 3...2...1!”

You both place a pack of yakult on the kitchen island. Bakugou is the first to chuckle. Seeing that you both knew to buy yakult, you drink one to celebrate. 

“Something they want 3...2...1!”

You pull out a red All-Might knock off tee and Bakugou pulls out a card shaped like a coupon. Inside the card read: Baku Coupon: Good for one request

“Only one?” You protest.

“Yeah so choose wisely, princess.”  Bakugou gives you a wink as he tries on the tee (he likes it but won't admit it). 

You set aside the card to reveal the last item in the challenge. 

“Something they need 3...2...1!”

You pull out a bag of assorted candy and Bakugou pulls out a box of condoms. 

What?! You laughed grabbing the box of condoms. Bakugou unwrapped a lollipop and stuck it in his mouth. You’re always teasing him that he needed more sweets in his life and he plans to add more than just sweets. 

His suggestive actions stirs naughty thoughts of what you could be sucking right now. Bakugou catches the lust in your eyes and grins. The condoms he bought were meant to be a message. You looked away in a feeble attempt to hide the dirty thoughts you were just having about your husband. 

Friday 

It was your last day at your coastal home before an early ride home tomorrow. Taking a stroll down the beach to relax, the commotion at the nearby hotel catches your attention and you’re pulling Bakugou along to check out what was going on. The banner hung above the balcony read “Spicy Tonkotsu Ramen Challenge”. 

“I will beat you, Bakugou Katuski.”  You take your napkin and tuck it in your shirt and stare into the soul of your husband’s eyes. 

“And I will enjoy every second of it.” Your eyes darken as the competitor in you takes over. You’ve volunteered for both of you to play since the event was free. 

“I’d like to see you try.” Bakugou tucks his napkin into his shirt as well, ready for the challenge. 

“Ladies and gentlemen.” A lady speaks through the intercom. “The competition for the most bowls of spicy tonkotsu ramen eaten in 5 minutes, begins….NOW!” 

5 minutes later, the whistle is blown and all competitors raise their hands. You gulp down the soup you’ve held in your cheeks and count your bowels--6. Six bowls, you think you’ve done a good job considering others next to you barely had 5. Turning to Bakugou your eyes widened as you recounted his bowls for a 3rd time--10 bowls!! 

Bakugou wipes his lips and if you could swipe the shit eating grin he had right now you would in a heartbeat. 

“We have a winner!” The MC raises Bakugou’s arm and the crowd cheers him on. “It’s been an honor hosting you Dynamight.” 

The crowd gathers to take photos with your husband and though he was not a man who enjoys fan service, winning a competition boosted his ego. You watched as he timidly posed for photos before eventually returning to the grumpy man you loved. He stalks over to you and grabs you by the waist. 

“Let’s go home.”

With a full stomach, it was no surprise you both took an afternoon nap. 

Waking in your slumber, the moonlight shines through your bedroom and onto your husband’s face. You lay motionless to appreciate your husband before your getaway ends tomorrow. Bakugou stirs from his sleep and opens his eyes to see you’ve already awakened. He shifts to move closer to you, arm around your waist. 

“Hi, beautiful.” He gives the softest smile, ones he saves only for you to see behind closed doors. Your heart is beating fast at the butterflies inside you. 

“I’ve been thinking.” You returned a smile. “I want to cash in my coupon.” 

Bakugou nods, prepared to do anything for you. You want him to take another week off? Done. Make love to you into the night? Done. Make food for you to eat? Done. 

“Love me forever.”

Bakugou wasn’t expecting you to request this but he can’t say he’s surprised either. You always chose him, day-after-day, night-after-night. Even on days he didn’t deserve it. To spend the rest of his life loving you was more than what he can ask for. 

“Til the day I die.” he says before crashing his lips with yours in a passionate kiss. The embers only grow within as your bodies mold together to match the desire in your eyes. 

#bakugou x reader #bakugouxreader #Bakugou Katuski #Bakugou's 2021 birthday celebration #bnha Bakugou #Bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou

[carboniteprincess]

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, Canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, character death, murder, you're literally a rebel sniper, it's enemies to lovers boba is not going to be nice to you yet, love at first fist fight, I cannot stress this enough, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, he's kind of arrogant? but he's young give him time

Pairing: Boba Fett x F! Reader | 2.0k words

You're arguably the best sniper in the entire rebel alliance, with hundreds of high ranking Imperial officials on your belt. When you're given the order to kill Boba Fett, you are under the impression that this would be like any other mission. Unfortunately, he seems to have great skill of getting out of situations that aren't in his favor. Now you're on Tatooine, where your comrade Orda has lured him into discussing business in a shady restaurant under the guise of being an Imperial Commander. His luck has to run out at some point, and you intend that to be today.

Crossposted on Ao3!

Being a rebel wasn't as glamorous as you thought. You weren't conducting high-level espionage or anything of the like. Instead, your penchant for sniping was homed in on, making you one of, if not the best in the entire squad. The only flaw you had, was arrogance. Never have you let a target walk away, never have you allowed yourself into a tight spot. 

You were always ahead of the enemy, so when your general gave you the order to kill Boba Fett. You assumed it would be an easy in and out job, perhaps he would've posed a threat to other members of your squad. But to you it would be simple, right? Unfortunately not. 

This is your third attempt at some kind of ambush, luring him into a perfect position. Mandalorian armor had few weak points, meaning you had to meticulously spend hours figuring out where would land a good, clean blow. His neck. If angled correctly, one tilt of his helmet and it would be over. Right through the jugular, no more bounty hunter. Another imperial dog to add to your list. 

If he would just turn his head, a little more to the right. Sweat beads on your forehead, eyes focused down the scope. Being a good assassin was all about your ability to linger, to wait. You're positioned on a balcony, a blind spot to the restaurant below. Your associate kept him talking under the guise of being an Imperial Commander, negotiating pay for the next rebel target. Boba Fett sits across from him, drink untouched. If you could see his face you'd swear he seemed bored. His legs wide open, leaning back nonchalantly. 

Fingers clenching on the trigger, you close your left eye. It wasn't like you enjoyed your job, when this war was over you'd swore to never lift a weapon again. The Empire made you, molding you like clay into a perfect killer. A painful truth, a driving force. Your parents. Both were medical professionals, caught smuggling medication to the galaxy's poorest. Promptly executed and then you, an orphan. A street urchin, nothing more. 

It wasn't long into your teens that you heard of the resistance, your heart burned with a want of revenge. So you got stronger, learned how to use a blaster, pilot and any skills that would make you useful to their cause. But you weren't a rebel, not really. You didn't care for politics, didn't even bother listening to the speeches about restoring the Republic. It didn't matter to you, but what did matter was taking out as many Imperials as you could before you die in battle or finally become numb to the anger. 

Self-preservation was no concern of yours, and that made you dangerous. A loose cannon, hot-tempered, and scarily a woman. You were used to being underestimated by your peers on gender, height, birth planet…. and you were the one who gets the high-profile missions. You were the one who has the highest accuracy, years of practice which left your trigger finger calloused, and every other emotion muted. 

Boba Fett had become a real thorn in your side. Threatening your record, career and possibly your sanity. His uncanny talent for escaping situations, even if all cards were against him, was exasperating. You would be lying if you didn't have some modicum of respect for him though, you were somewhat alike. Respect, no matter how great, does not destroy a death warrant. 

Someday soon his luck would run out, and it would be you at the other end of the blaster. That day was today. Lips twitching into a smirk, you watch his neck turn. Bingo. You steady your rifle, pulse pounding in your ears. At last, this mission would be over. You'd become a legend, the woman who killed Boba Fett. 

Bang. You take the shot, accurate as ever. A hum leaves your lips, watching him fall to the ground. Your calculations were correct, there was a weak point. Every armor has one, even Mandalorian. It was like a drug, the puzzle pieces clicking together with every fragility you discovered. 

The restaurant below descends into chaos, even the bartender is panicking. All guests rushing from their tables, abandoning their meals as your associate checks the man's pulse. You stare down your scope, watching the ordeal. He gives a thumbs-up, definitely dead. A buzz in your ear alerts you to a comlink.

"He's dead. But I think you'll want to come down here." Orda replies through static. Your brow creases, what the hell could've gone wrong. Muscles twitching with irritation, you make your way through the currently uninhabited building. You were ordered to avoid collateral damage by all means necessary, a false fire alarm did the job well. 

Your feet tap against the stairs as you make quick work of assessing your surroundings— if something is wrong, then it's always better safe than sorry. It seemed to be all clear, so you proceeded out the door and onto the street. This area of Mos Eisley was pretty habitable, aside from the abundance of criminal undertakings. Dust kicks as you march into the restaurant, pushing through various guests who were piling out at lightspeed. 

With a gruff, you finally make it to the rooftop, an exclusive VIP spot which proved difficult to doctor identity necessary to enter. You're about to start asking what the hell could've been so important that he dragged you down here, but your eyes meet Orda's now slumped body, face down with all color residing. A frustrated sigh leaves you, he was a good man. Even worse, he was a great rebel. His heart was in it, unlike yours. He shouldn't have been the casualty here. You reach down, pulling out his identichip and stashing it in your pocket. An action that you've taken with far too many of your comrades. 

Painfully you pull yourself from Orda's body, standing upright. Lingering would be a deathwish, whoever killed Orda was skilled. An impressive marksman, obviously one of Boba's accomplices who mistakenly thought he was the one that shot him. You could go over what-ifs later, right now you were going to finish the fucking job. 

The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in crimson constellations as the wind settled. Inspecting Boba's body was your primary concern, whatever Orda discovered, it cost him his life. You were determined to find out what exactly it was, from a glance it seemed like Boba Fett. With a grimace, you move his drooping head around. Concerningly heavier than expected, beskar is light and durable. 

You hook your fingertips under the helmet, pulling it off and coming face to face with…. not your target. Fuck. You'd be deceived, spectacularly. Knuckles white, feeling bile in your throat threatening to explode in a cocktail of frustration and admiration. The crudely made edges of the helmet abrasive against your palm, a reminder of your failure. 

Without a second thought, your balled fist comes into contact with the wall, encasing the helmet and sending tendrils of pain, a shock wave through your arm as you verbalize your confliction with a strangled scream. Orda died for nothing, you were a joke. Everything you had built, buried and locked away was floating to the surface. 

But you haven't felt this alive in years. Being outsmarted, so cunningly sent a morbid thrill up your spine. You could almost laugh, had you not heard footsteps approaching. Impulsively your hand fell to your blaster, making a mental note to thank your teacher for always carrying more than one. 

"Surely you didn't believe it was that easy to kill me." Before he can finish you turn, firing your blaster in his direction. Of course, his armor deflects it with ease. "I must admit, I'm impressed. Not everyone could distinguish beskar through weight alone." A snort leaves him at your feeble attempt to hold ground, looking over your pathetic secondary weapon that could barely injure an Ewok. 

"Go thing I'm not everyone then." You stand, keeping your right arm extended, blaster aimed at his inner thigh. It wouldn't kill him, however it would allow ample time for escape. "You killed my friend." He's circling you now. "Who's your Intel? How did you know I'd be here?" 

"You are hardly in the position to be making demands, little rebel." Another chuckle, you'd heard of him toying with his advisories before, but this was different. A teacher disciplining a student. 

"You're going to kill me anyway, what's the harm." You huff, shrugging. He stops pacing, chewing over your words. 

"Killing you would be a waste." That bastard. "Of my time and resources." He adds matter-of-factly. 

"Orda wasn't?" You spit, voice cracking in frustration. Figuring out what made others tick was your specialty, but the lack of motivation and reason within Boba's actions is what baffled you. 

"That was a favor." He sounds like you should be grateful, almost insulted that you hadn't figured it out yet even with him practically dangling the answer in front of you. Perhaps you weren't as clever as he thought. 

"A—favor? How would killing my comrade benefit me!" You reply astounded, cheeks burning red, hand shaking on your blaster. 

You think for a second, taking your eyes off him. Why did it take until after the kill for Orda to realize what was wrong with the body… He isn't… wouldn't…could've of… you've been double-crossed. "He wouldn't— I've spent months with him—" 

"And every little thing you did, he told me." His admission is calm, you look over Orda's body, no longer do you feel remorse. Just shame. You couldn't even see betrayal under your nose. 

You walk closer to him, the barrel of your blaster getting dangerously close. Nothing could stop you from finishing your mission right now, but he's letting you. Knowledge is far more appealing than rewards in the resistance. 

With your grip around the handle tight, you slam it down across his helmet, your knee reaching his groin. "You're very easy to fool." A smirk replaces the look of misery on your face, it was a dangerous game to pretend to let your guard down. Your risk paid off, managing to get a shot at his thigh. 

Swiftly, you press all your weight on him, knocking him back just enough to make a run for the edge of the balcony. He groans in pain, you're so close to the edge, escape almost in your grasp— when a grappling hook wraps around your ankle. 

You struggle against the cold floor, doing anything you can to wriggle free from his grasp.

It's fruitless, as soon as he's in reach you're kicking him, hurtling all kinds of abuse. Your attempts to wrestle him are almost comical and in a frenzy, you grip the only thing that seems viable. His Helmet. You manage to free it, your fingers hooking under and pulling it off his head, sending it on the floor beside you. For a moment you're the one stunned, not him. 

Dark curls frame his face, a beautiful border to tanned skin. His nose is prominent but compliments his features. Scars pepper his face, but he's young. Younger than you thought. You watch as his forehead crinkles in anger, hands pinning yours beside your head. 

Wasting no time, you bring your head to crack his, sending him back with a kick to the stomach. Your nose pours from impact, dripping onto the floor as you clamber to your feet. 

"This isn't over." You hear his voice, unmodified. You rush to the edge, peering over and assessing if you can land in one of the speeders below. He stands, trying to rush over to stop you. "Don't!" 

With a wink, you throw yourself over the side. In seconds you're hurtling onto the street, watching a bare-faced Boba Fett grow smaller with each passing second. His eyes are widened in either admiration or shock for your bravery. 

He eventually dares to look over and finds that you're gone. Whoever you were, he finally had a worthy opponent. He would find you again. His little rebel. 

#boba fett x reader #boba fett #boba fett x female reader #the mandalorian #star wars #fic #mine #this fic is lowkey my baby #and there def will be a chapter 2 I'm just stupid and can't work ao3 #anyway #enjoy💖 #I know I know I'm bad at proof reading #I try

[basicjetsetter]

Part III

♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader

▹ Warnings: Mild Language, Small mention of suicide attempt, Start of the Slow Burn

▹ Words: 3.1k

▹ A/N: Get ready for the slowest slow burn of your life.

Peter Parker is your Soulmate.

Peter Parker is also Spider-Man.

Your bewildered brain tries to rapidly absorb this news as he swings you back onto your apartment’s roof and nimbly sets you down on your feet, safely away from the ledge.

Well, that explains all the times he went missing during school trips. Those days are like a distant memory now, but you hazily remember the day Spider-Man rescued your classmates from a collapsing elevator in the Washington Monument. It was all anyone in Midtown talked about for weeks.

The boy-next-door was your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man all this time. Shock lags in your system. For some weird reason, you aren’t that surprised by the sight of Peter in the Spider-Man suit or by the idea of him being an Avenger, and as you stand on this roof mere feet from him, all you're concerned about is what he might possibly say.

Your heart races as you skeptically watch him spin around to face you. 

He rubs a quick, nervous hand against the back of his neck and then, in a split second, pulls off his mask.

Time’s barely touched him, but then again, you long pieced together that your Soulmate must have suffered from the blip. His slightly disheveled hair is still the same chestnut brown, and his cute, boyish features remain intact. The only thing different is his eyes. Nothing extremely drastic changed about them, but even in the dark of night, you spot that they’re somehow more mature than you remember, older in a way that oddly aches a small place in your heart.

All while you scrutinize Peter’s exposed face and apprehensively stare into his eyes, part of you braces for the fireworks to explode and all the stars in the universe to align. This is it, isn’t it? The fated moment your childhood stories preached to be an epically magical experience? Aren’t you supposed to feel something? Anything?

A cricket chirps nearby.

Peter clears his throat, extends a hand to you, and sheepishly says, “Um, h-hi.”

You stare at his hand until it drops down to his side.

“Oh, geez!” he smacks a hand to his forehead. “Sorry, sorry. That was dumb. You probably aren’t thinking about that right now. Are you okay?”

It takes a while to part your lips, and once they’re open, all that comes out is, “Huh?”

“Are—are you okay? You just fell off that ledge over there,” he adds the last part with a gesture to the ledge, as if he’s trying to jog your memory.

You glance at the edge of the roof behind you, then slowly drag your gaze back to him. “Yeah.” Shaking your head, you repeat louder, “Yeah, I’m fine. It was… it was an accident.”

He blows out a relieved breath. “That’s great. Glad I got to you in time cause that would have been a nasty fall.”

You try to hide your flinch, but you’re sure he catches it because he immediately casts his eyes downward, mumbling more apologies while shuffling from one foot to another.

Sobering silence clouds the air around you as the last five minutes replay in your mind. You nearly died. You were seconds away from ending your life. Peter Parker saved you.

Gulping past the enormous lump in your throat, you whisper, “Thank you.”

Both sides of Peter’s mouth quirk up into a soft smile. “You’re welcome.” He pauses for a few beats, appearing to choose his next words carefully, then says, “So… you’re my Soulmate.”

Hearing him speak the words aloud thickens the obstruction in your throat, and all you offer back is an acknowledging nod, which expands Peter’s smile into a grin so bright it trips up your galloping heart.

“I was beginning to think I’d never meet you. I kept, you know, hearing you say my name in my head, so I kinda guessed you were still out there somewhere. Just never thought you’d be in my neighborhood.” He holds out his hand again, and this time you grudgingly shake it. “We had Spanish together, right?”

Once again, you’re stunned into silence. How the hell does Peter even know you? Back in your high school days, you don’t ever remember speaking a word to him, let alone doing something memorable enough for him to know which class you took together. As far as you can recall, Spanish was the only class you shared, and half the time, he was too busy waiting for class to end to notice you.

While you search your memory's repressed files to trace back any time you may have interacted with Peter, he says your name, causing your eyes to flash to his. 

“You know my name?”

“Yeah…” he answers like it’d be strange if he didn’t. “We were in the same class for a while, and you painted that really awesome Starry Night with my friend, Ned.”

Something faintly warm and fluttery pitches around in your chest, but you’re quick to stow away the feeling into a locked box. It’s just a compliment—nothing more, nothing less. He seems like a nice guy and all, but there is clearly nothing between you two. No sparks. No deep gazes. No instant connections. Nothing.

Disappointment stings like a cut in your chest as you hurry over to the ledge and gather up your art supplies. When you turn back around, Peter’s staring at you with disheartened confusion, furrowing his brows.

Words haphazardly spill out of your mouth. “It was nice meeting you, Peter, and um, thanks for saving me, but I gotta go cause I have work early in the morning, and it’s super late—” 

“Wait, wait, wait!” he rushes, marginally lunging forward as you take a few steps toward the exit, hand outstretched to stop you. “I just—can you tell me where you work? Maybe I can come by, and we can, y’know, talk a little bit. Get to know each other?” he ends with a hopeful, lop-sided smile.

The “No, I don’t think that would be a good idea” sits right on the edge of your tongue, armed and ready for dispatch, but Peter’s anxious little smile stalls it in its tracks. Instead, you shockingly find yourself replying, “Hal’s Diner.”

Peter perks up. “Oh, cool. I know that place. It’s got good pie. So… um, guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, trying hard not to kick yourself for giving in so easily. Out of courtesy, you force a small smile onto your lips and say, “Goodnight, Peter.”

He returns your smile ten-fold. “Goodnight.”

As the exit door shuts behind you, you hear the slightest Thwip.

Why couldn’t you just say no?

✦ ✧✦ ✧

Bright and early, you show up at Hal’s Diner thirty-five minutes before you’re scheduled to be there, currently helping Hal prep for the Sunday breakfast crowd. To say your boss was astonished to see you at the front door nearly an hour before opening would be an understatement, but he thankfully didn’t question you.

After everything that transpired last night, from the fall to meeting Peter, the last thing you expected was a restful night’s sleep, but you were zonked the moment your head touched the pillow. For the first time in forever, those words didn’t plague your dreams and your every conscious thought. Your mind is now gloriously quiet.

You finally met your fated person, and now, you can eventually move on.

Except, not really… because Peter thinks it’s necessary to get to know you. Not if you can avoid it.

With that thought looming over your head from the second you woke up, you zoomed through your morning routine and made it out of your apartment in record time. You didn’t really have a game plan or destination in the works when you left, but you knew that your hands and mind needed to be busy to keep the more pressing thought at bay. Hence, your reason for prepping with Hal. At the moment, he’s droning on and on about what a mess last night’s shift turned out to be while you peel potatoes.

“And that new hire, the Dennis kid, screwed up three orders. Three consecutive orders! Two of ‘em from the same couple. If the boy weren’t so good at cleanup, he’d be out the door,” Hal swears, eyeing his inventory list. “Looks like we’re gonna have to stock up on eggs again.”

You hum to show you were listening, but it didn't really matter. Hal could go on like this for days, with or without an audience.

He leans his heavy body against the gigantic industrial refrigerator, then perches his thick-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his bulbous nose. “Alright, now you mind telling me what’s got you here so early?”

“Nothing,” you lie breezily, taking your bowl full of naked potatoes to the sink to rinse them off. The hot water runs freezing cold but gradually warms as you painstakingly rinse the whole surface of every potato, struggling to keep your hands and mind busy. “Just thought I’d be a good employee and help out my boss.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffs with a laugh, “If that’s true, then there must be pigs flying in Central Park.”

You counter, “Are you insinuating I’m not a good employee?”

“No. Good help like you is hard to come by these days, and everyone in Queens knows I’d be the first in line to praise your workmanship. I’m actually just expressing a nagging concern I have with you notoriously being late and then, in the blink of an eye, turning up here before I can even fit the key in the door. Now, either something’s real wrong or something’s real right. Which one is it?”

Experience with Hal and his prying questions over the last three years taught you how to lie tactfully. Always start with a full lie, then go with a half-truth to throw him off your trail. “I finally got more than four hours of sleep.”

“Great!” Hal beams, clapping his hands together. “Now, why’s that?”

You sigh exasperatedly, “For the love of—Can’t good news just be good news, Hal? Must there be an explanation?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll back off.” He pushes his glasses back up, harrumphing, “Just know that truth is too damn narcissistic to be kept in the dark. It always finds a way to be seen.”

With that, Hal grabs a tattered dishrag and a bottle of cleaning solution off the nearest counter and leaves you in the kitchen, heading out to the dining area to give the booth tables one more wipe down, grumbling about buying new upholstery for the seats.

Try as he might, Hal doesn't have a hope of scaring you into telling him the whole truth. You’re not rolling over that easily. No one in this diner is ever going to find out that you met your Soulmate, and if you’re lucky, it’ll stay a secret until literal pigs are flying in Central Park.

Somehow, someway, you’re going to figure out how to escape whatever this connection is because there must be some cosmic loophole for those who simply don’t want their destiny. There’s no way you’re the only person on this planet who’s ever decided to break from their Soulmate.

If there is any sliver of a connection between you and Peter, he’d understand why you can’t stay. He’d understand, and he’d move on.

You hold onto this hope throughout the rest of the workday. Hal doesn’t badger you again as the diner opens and the Sunday crowd comes bustling in, hungry for syrup-saturated French toast sticks and freshly brewed coffee.

Every time the welcoming bell at the entrance jangled, your eyes fearfully snapped to the door, expecting chestnut hair and a boyishly thousand-watt smile. And every time it wasn’t him, an obnoxious pebble of dismay sank to the pit of your stomach. Between serving customer after customer and watching the door, time slipped away from you, and before you even registered the difference, the warm afternoon sun streamed directly into the diner, and the last ten minutes of your shift approached.

Chris is dragging out a goodbye with a dazzled mother and her teenage son, inadvertently milking more tips out of them with a hilarious story about his favorite ketchup stain on his apron, while Wendy mops over the same black and white tiles for the seventh time, blinking in and out and stifling yawns. You set down two plates of grilled cheeses and steak fries for a young couple, smiling with your plastic smile and brightly telling them to enjoy their meals and to call for you if they need anything else.

As soon as you turn around to check up on the regulars sitting at the stools, the bell jingles, and there in the entrance stands Peter, cheerfully greeted with a perfectly timed, “Welcome to Hal’s, dude!” from Chris.

Your heart stutter-stops, then bursts into a full-on sprint, and before you even understand what you’re doing, you duck down, scurrying behind the bar. Two regulars on the stools, a middle-aged biker nicknamed Spikes and his buddy Garrick, lean over the counter with querying stares. Hastily, you mouth, I’m not here, and they curtly nod in unison, sitting back down.

On the other side of the bar, you hear Chris seat Peter in a booth that sounds dangerously close to your hiding spot, so you squinch down as far as you can go, balling yourself up in a position your knees and back will hate you for later.

“My name’s Chris, and I shall be your server this fine afternoon. Anything I can start you off with…?”

“Peter,” Peter fills in, then answers, “And a slice of Banana Cream Pie would be great.”

You intently listen to the scratch of pen against paper as Chris scribbles down the order. “Sweet, dude. I’ll bring that out to you as soon as possible.”

“Thanks. And, hey, um… does a girl named Y/N work here?”

Your eyes bulge.

“Yeah! Do you want me to get her?” asks Chris helpfully while you internally scream, adding, “I think she might be in the back. Could have sworn she was out here a second ago.”

The best scenario out of this situation would be if Chris miraculously misses your hiding spot, walks into the back and sees you’re not there, then comes back out, missing you again, and informs Peter that you must’ve gone home early. The absolute worst being Chris trips over you and nearly breaks his neck.

By the way things are shaping up, you might as well give yourself away.

“Y’all talking about the little miss with the bun in her hair?” Spikes gruffly interjects. “Cause you just missed her.”

You almost puff out a sigh as relief washes over you like a tidal wave. Spikes has got free burgers and milkshakes coming his way for a month.

“Huh… thought she was here.” Chris stays quiet only for a second, probably questioning the efficacy of his eyesight, before speaking to Peter again. “Sorry about that, man. Still want that pie?”

Just like that, your heart kicks into high gear. Please don’t say yes. Please don’t say yes. Please don’t say yes.

Again, to your utter relief, Peter says, “No, thanks, I actually gotta get going. Mind if I borrow your pen and paper real fast?” You hold in a tense breath as Chris rips off a piece of pad paper and hands it to him. More pen scratches against paper, then Peter speaks up, “Can you make sure this reaches her?”

“Definitely. Have a good rest of your day, and come back anytime, dude.”

You don’t uncoil yourself from behind the bar until the door jingles again and a good five minutes pass. Your muscles and joints achingly cry out from the mistreatment as you warily stand to your full height, and Spikes and Garrick give you a confirmational thumbs-up when you smile at them gratefully.

Chris, spotting you out of the corner of his eye, swivels around and gapes, “Where’d you just come from?”

“The back.” Not entirely a lie.

Chris frowns, “But Spikes just said—”

“I was leaving,” you hurriedly cut in. “But I—I, um, I forgot to…” Your eyes rove around the diner and land on the couple you recently served. You hit your head with your palm in an oops manner and nervously chuckle, “I forgot to give those guys their check. So, I’m just… gonna go and… do that.”

You skirt around Chris’s inquisitively raised eyebrow and head over to the cash register to tabulate the couple’s bill. That was a way too close call. And by the way Chris is still staring at you, it looks as if you’re far from being out of the woods.

Once you hand the couple their check, rush to the back and clock out for the day, and come back out in the dining area to leave, Chris is waiting by the door, holding up the triangled piece of paper Peter left for you.

“Some guy named Peter came by to see you. You know him?” A flash in his eyes dares you to deny it, as if he caught onto your game.

You defiantly square your jaw. “I might. Did he leave that for me?”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, “Wanna tell me who he is?”

“No, I don’t think I will,” you winningly grin as you snatch the paper from his hand.

Chris wears the same winning smile. “Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll ask him when he comes back tomorrow.”

You blanch, “Wh-what—what makes you think he’s coming back tomorrow?”

“All my customers come back. Always,” he promises. Chris never seemed like the type to issue positive threats, but here he is, threatening you with that friendly smile lighting his jovial face.

The promising threat rings in your ears as you walk out the door and head to your apartment. Halfway there, you remember the crumpled piece of paper grasped in your balled-up fist. You move out of the flow of pedestrian traffic, lean against the brick façade of a mini-mart, and unfold the paper.

Peter’s straight-forward scrawl reads: Sorry I missed you. Be back earlier tomorrow :) – Peter P., and at the bottom of the note is a phone number with an arrow pointing to it, saying, My cell #.

A small, itty-bitty smile flits across your lips as your eyes linger on Peter’s smiley face, and for the briefest moment, you’re transported back to the roof, losing your breath all over again as he smiles that innocently beautiful smile.

Avoiding him is going to be tougher than you thought.

...

Part IV

#peter parker #peter parker au #peter parker x reader #peter parker x black!reader #spider-man x reader #spider-man x black!reader #soulmate au #marvel fanfic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker angst #post endgame #post infinity war #peter parker soulmate au #pre far from home #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker slow burn #slow burn #black!reader #how to trust a heart

[wwilloww]

cliff diving pt. 1 | kth

CLIFF DIVING | KTH 1 of 3

genre: fluff. smut. nonidol!au. camping!au.

pairings: Taehyung | Reader

rating: 18+. NSFW. Explicit.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: cursing. talk of sex. undressing. pining. minor jealousy. mxm makeout. handholding ? (this list will get longer as I add more chapters)

summary: Every year as soon as the weather warms up, your friends haul ass out of the city to the mountains where you camp and hike in the shadow of giant rocks and ancient evergreens—and now apparently jump off of cliffs for fun. This time, an innocent round of truth or dare inspires you and Tae to play a mischievous game without getting caught by your friends.

a/n: Wow, okay, this is not what I expected. This is part 1 of 3, meaning the other chapters are written, I’m just spicin’ them up for you 😉

So many thanks to @spicykoreantatertots for beta reading this at LITERALLY the last minute and for her incredible support. If you like this, please let me know! And if you want to be added to the tag list, leave a comment and you’ll be notified as soon as part 2 is up! Okay okay, enough chitterchatter, lets get it.

moodboard

masterlist || series masterlist || ao3 || next chapter ->

WWILLOWW©️ DO NOT TRANSLATE, REPOST, OR COPY MY WORK.

CHAPTER ONE

Fifty feet beneath you, the deep blue swimming hole awaits, dark and cold from mountain snowmelt. The evening sun beats down gloriously on your back, teasing freckles to the surface of your skin.

This is not your idea of fun.

The five of you sit on the top of a large piece of natural red rock, panting from the climb and sipping on luke-warm beers while you admire the stark beauty of the mountains rising up around you, singing in late summer glory. Every year as soon as the weather warms up, your friends take a couple of days off of work, haul ass out of the city to the mountains to camp in the shadow of giant rocks and ancient evergreens—and now apparently jump off of cliffs for fun.

As much as you love your friends and would probably follow them anywhere, you can’t deny how dizzy you feel peeking over the stark red rock and into the waiting waters below. Even sitting several feet away from the edge does nothing to quell the feeling of tipping over the edge of the rock and into the open air.

While you all cool down from the hike and enjoy the image of the mountains sprawled out around you, Jin has convinced you all into a classic game of truth or dare—something you haven’t done since college. But with the combination of the height swirling in your body and the fact that it seems your friends have some kind of secret pact to pass along every intimate truth and absurd dare to you, you are feeling oddly tense. They had steadily extracted secrets you had no intention of ever sharing, like all the gory, embarrassing details of your last hookup (the toe guy). Meanwhile, the boys seemed to skate by with harmless dares and less-than entertaining truths.

Jin nudges you. “It’s your turn,” he winks.

“Alright,” you let out a shaky breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Truth.”

Groans rise up from the four boys around you.

“You always pick truth,” Jungkook complains. “You’re so booring.” He draws the last word out, slumping against your shoulder in a dramatic show of his disappointment.

“Okay, okay, fine, dare,” you shoot back.

“Nope! You already picked truth,” a grinning Jimin pipes from across the circle. “So you get a truth.” You groan. By the look in his eyes, he’s going to make this painful for you. Jimin has proven himself to an expert at extracting the most devilish truths.

The question that springs to his lips seems almost preconceived.

“If you were to pick any of us to have a friends-with-benefits thing wit—, no, wait—”

“To fuck, who would you fuck?” Jin finishes.

“Fwa—?!” you sputter, spitting beer. “What the hell kind of question is that?!”

The four boys around you crack up, Jin slaps his knees as his signature bray echoes off the rocks. Jimin giggles, Jungkook snorts, and Tae—well, Tae is oddly quiet. You wonder if he disapproves of the question.  

To be honest, it’s not as if you had never thought of it before. You had undeniably attractive friends. You had seen the way Jimin’s hips moved when he practiced his dance routines. You’d watched Jungkook grow from a scrappy boy to a strong and kind young man. And Jin was an expert at balancing the dynamic of the group, always so gentle and hilarious—and undeniably the most handsome of your friends. And Tae, well, then there was Tae.

He had started on the outskirts of your small group of childhood friends as one of Jungkook’s besties, but because he lived several towns over you rarely saw him. However, after all of you ended up at the same university, Tae’s boxy smile and gentle humor became a constant as he gradually wove his way into your hangouts and your heart. While you had initially written him off for his ridiculously good looks, he proved himself to be more than just a pretty face. You quickly learned that his sharp gaze was trained--not to judge--but to make sure everyone had what they needed. He became a shoulder to lean on and someone to look up to and when he spoke about the things he was most passionate about, a soft smile would take over his features and his voice would deepen with a unique kind of magic.

Over the years you had found yourself lingering on the idea of Tae. It crept into your life naturally, starting with an urge to text or see him popping into your thoughts. And you gave that no mind. But it soon developed into something that tasted almost like a craving. You would find yourself glancing at the door when you knew he was on his way over. He started invading your dreams at night, leaving you to wake clammy and confused in the mornings. When he was busy finalizing a case at work while you were out with the rest of your friend group, you felt as if there was a piece missing. During movie nights, it was his form that you wanted to curl into--and you were always thrilled when he obliged, wrapping himself around you on the couch.

There were even moments when you thought your craving for him might be reciprocated, only to find the moment halted and stalled, never progressing past friendship. So you never pushed. You never pursued him.  

And now his eyes are locking on yours, intense and searching.

If Tae is honest, he hasn’t considered it before. At least really, seriously considered it. He had always found you attractive, that was true, but since the moment he met you, the knowledge that you were the closest friend of his closest friends had him shoving down any thought of you in more than a platonic way. Even then, he couldn’t help ruminating on the little things you’d do—repeatedly tucking the same piece of stray hair behind your ear, or the way you swing your heels over your shoulder after a long night out and skip down the city concrete, or how you’d try to claim objects by licking them. He would find himself grinning from ear to ear at your smallest moments of delight. But that’s normal for friends, right? Especially one as delightful as you.

But now now that the thought is out there, the idea of you with Jin or Jungkook or Jimin—your legs wrapped around their waist as they kiss slowly down your neck, your hands pressed against their cheeks, holding them so tenderly—you with anyone else, really, doing any of that. It sets off something tight and painful in his stomach. He hates it.

His eyes narrow with the thought, and you catch it, confused by the sallow expression on his face.

“Tae—?” you blurt out before you realize what you’re saying. You had meant to simply call his name, not answer with it.

“TAE!” Jungkook hollers. The boys explode into hoots of laughter. “I can’t even imagine that!”

You’re in shock.

“I mean… I mean all of you,” you add, trying to diffuse the situation.

“ALL OF US!” Jungkook screams.

The laughter only escalates.

Your friends are cackling around you and all you can do is crack a weak smile.

“Well, I guess you know where to go when your next hookup falls through,” Jungkook tosses another beer can at Tae.

Tae chuckles.

“Could be worse, eh?”

He brings himself out of the mess of emotions swirling within and back to the present moment. To where you’re sitting across from him, beet red and looking wildly disappointed. Are you disappointed with the options for a FWB set in front of you? Are you disappointed in his response?

Still, the slight pout resting on your lips has him wondering how anyone could ever make sulking look cute.

“Well, Taetae, as entertaining as that was, it’s now your turn.” Jin claps his hands, rubbing his palms together in the same manner as when he’s getting ready to prepare one of his famous five-course meals.

“Uh, it’s definitely not m—”

“Truth or dare,” Jin orders.

“Fine. Dare,” Tae says, thinking he dodged the bullet unlike you.

“Okay. Kiss.”

It’s now Tae’s turn to spit his beer out. It feels like your heart stops in your chest.

“Uh, no—what? That’s not fair—that’s not—what?”

“Definitely fair,” Jungkook intercepts Tae’s fumbling. “It’s truth or dare. It’s not truth or dare without someone kissing someone.”

“True. You can kiss anyone. It’s up to you. Does that make it fairer?” Jimin adds.

Tae purses his lips. Then, answers, “Fine. I, uh—” his eyes flicker to yours, and excitement sparks in your belly. Is this it? Is it really that easy? You feel a smile spread across your lips. But then his eyes dart away and he grins, “Jimin, my friend, smoochy, smoochy.” He makes grabby hands in the air.

Jimin’s mouth falls open and he looks between the two of you.

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

The young men lean into the circle and reach for each other. Jimin’s hand comes to gently cup Tae’s cheek as they press together, their features softening as their lips move in sync. You can’t deny they look beautiful like this. When they pull away from the lingering kiss, a rosey wash has started to creep up Jimin’s neck and Tae is grinning from ear to ear.

“A round of applause!” Jin cheers.

You clap as Tae grabs his beer to polish off the rest of it, before rubbing at your red cheeks, hoping that those pesky tell-tales will fade into nothingness. You feel surprised at the disappointment that bubbles up in you. Had you expected that his kind gaze meant he wanted to kiss you?

You don’t want it. You don’t want to be disappointed over such an inconsequential game, you don’t want to deal with the confusing and unnamable desire that you’ve been pushing down for years—and you definitely don’t want to be stuck replaying an unending reel of the delightful blush that crept up Teahyung’s neck when you called his name.

But that seems to be exactly where you are: disappointed and stuck. There’s really only one way out.

“I’m jumping,” you state as you stand.

Earlier in the day, Jimin had promised to hold your hand when you finally jumped off the cliff, knowing how much it terrified you. But now, with your face burning and your hands balled into tiny fists, there was no ounce of fear left in your body.

“Wha—” Jin floundered. “Now?”

“Yep, now,” you said as you peel off the little remaining clothes you’re wearing. There’s half a thought in your mind to be sexy while undressing, but instead, your shirt gets stuck on your head.

The noise of the men jostling and joking behind you fades as you stride over to the cliff edge. You look over your toes gripping the edge into the dark water below you. There was something about that kind of darkness—unseeable, unknowable—just waiting for you to dive straight into it. A pulse of adrenaline shoots through your body, raising goosebumps on your skin despite the mid-summer heat.

In a second, body and mind align. Yes, there’s fear. And there’s also something else, some kind of song, a call to tip yourself off the edge and into the unknown. It sings up to you, it sings you forward. You push through the fear. You push through and—

Jump.

It feels like you’re flying, your heart expanding into every corner of your body. The world becomes sharper. The wind around you feels like a blanket, the fading sun like a caress.

Deep breath in. Hold it.

It’s effortless.

The next thing you know you’re hitting the sublime coolness of the water, plunging into the darkness that waits.

It’s consuming, this darkness, this coldness.

It wraps heavy around your limbs, sparking energy, delight, life in you. You could exist here, weightless, suspended in between the feeling of being consumed by something larger than you and the sense of absolute presence.

It’s not long before your lungs start to ache and you resentfully kick to the surface.

As the water parts around your face, you are hit with the warmth of the sun and you can’t help but smile, endorphins pulsing through your body. You paddle away from the center just in time to hear the echoing whoops above you and look up to see, one by one, the rest of the group plummeting into the swimming hole. The water becomes turbulent and choppy around you, lifting your body and swaying you in the small waves.

As you watch each of your friends pop up from the dark water, shaking the water from their hair and eyes,  a second thrill zaps through you.

“You did it!” Jimin exclaims, swimming over to you to hug you from behind. Jimin rocks you back and forth in excitement and you giggle at the awkwardness of his movements. “I’m so proud of you. You didn’t even look scared when you jumped!”

Taehyung is the last to dive off the cliff and the last to pop up out of the water. When he does, the first thing he is met with is the sight of Jimin wrapped around you, your head thrown back in laughter as he praises you. His eyes narrow at the sight, that same fiery discomfort from before burning in his gut.

Jimin lifts his face from where he’d buried it in your hair to glance over at Taehyung to ask him if--but the words turn cold in his mouth at the sight before him. His friend is gaping at you, eyebrows furrowed, and some emotion between anger and desire simmering in his eyes.

“Tae?” Jimin calls unsurely.

Tae’s eyes snap into focus and the tension on his face begins to melt. He opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted by Jungkook’s dark head popping up between the three of you, a pair of goggles strapped too tightly to his face--so tightly that they pull his eyes down comically.

“Guys! I found a GoPro!” he gasps, flipping the goggles up to reveal the red suction rings around his eyes. He must have somehow managed to dive down to the floor of the swimming hole because indeed, he’s holding an expensive and dripping camera in his hands.

The five of you spend the next half-hour diving, swimming, and floating in the cool water. Jungkook continues to dive, each time bringing up his finds to show you all. He finds two more GoPros, a water-logged watch, and an old flip phone and proudly displays his growing collection of treasures on a boulder in the middle of the water. Taehyung seems a little reserved to you, surprisingly quieter than his usual collected but boisterous self.

“Who’s going to bring our shit down from the cliff?” Jimin asks as you all are getting ready to head back to the lake to set up camp.

“I’ll get it!” Jungkook, ever the energizer bunny, yells from the water. He immediately starts paddling to the shore before leaping out and sprinting up the steep trail barefoot.

The rest of you start to make your way to shore where a precarious stack of towels is waiting for you. You glance behind you to see Tae still floating on his back in the middle of the swimming hole, lost in thought. Just as you are turning around to swim back to him, the sun dips below the mountains, casting him and the water in a dusky gold film. You pause for a moment, admiring the way the light reflects off the water droplets on his face, seemingly covering him in specks of gold.  

“Tae—are you coming?”

“Hm?” He lifts his head, effectively moving his body into an upright position again.

“We’re going,” you say softly.

Taehyung watches as you swim towards him. Your hair, darkened by the water and floating like silk strands around your shoulders,  falls in your eyes and around your shoulders. You can’t help but grin at him as you near him and reach out to grab his hand. With his fingers intertwined in yours, he automatically stretches out with his free hand to tug on a strand of hair that has gotten stuck in your mouth. His gaze glides along the slight pout of your lips, the lovely dip of your cupid’s bow, the gentle shadow beneath your lower lip.

As Taehyung meets your eyes, your cheeks fill with the prettiest blush he has ever seen, like a dusty rose. You’ve noticed his lingering stare. Despite your blooming cheeks, you hold his gaze, tilt your head, and let the smallest smile play across your lips.

That’s the moment he knows.

He wants you, unapologetically.

tag list (let me know if you’d like to be added): @dontaskshhhhh​ @myimaginationsrunningwild​

masterlist || ao3 || next chapter ->

#ksmutclub #btsgoldnet #btswriterscollective #tae smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #bts fic #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x reader #fluff #bts fluff #kim taehyung #v #bts

[thecrimsonjaguar]

A Short List of Adventure Time AUs

So I got a google doc of adventure time aus I’ve made over the past two or three years. Here are some of my favorites (and also the ones I came back to and edited)

If you’ve got ideas for an au or ideas to add onto the preexisting ones I’ve got here, please tell me! I’m always up for some au discussion. 

1.) Jermaine AU: Jermaine comes to live at the treehouse after his house blows up. This, unlike canon, happens rather early in season 3. The rest of the series mainly stays the same, except this time there's three brothers instead of two. He's a kinda anxious dude with demon hunting expertise and a painting hobby. He sometimes wonders if he made Dad disappointed by letting all his work explode. Finn and Jake help him out, and he helps them. Despite this, Jermaine is the only one with a brain, and Finn and Jake share exactly one (1) braincell that they trade every so often. Jermaine is tired. (Jermaine is the only one who tries to clean regularly, and he's also the one to keep Neptr, Ancient Psychic Tandem War Elephant, and a few others company. He's a bit of real wisdom the early series Finn and Jake needed.

2.) Melted Ice AU: Mid season two, IK is hit with something that de-ages him. He turns six. Maybe this mystery de-aging thing blows up the top of the ice mountain, who knows. Maybe he wakes up in the snow, with no memory of how he got there or why. No memory of the last one thousand years. Finn and Jake don't know about his backstory since that happens in season three. Simon is carried by a snowman out of the ice kingdom where he breaks down in the plains. Finn, of course, finds him and is ecstatic to meet another human. Completely missing the fact that this small child is, in fact, the Ice King, Finn declares to help this boy no matter what. That promise soon becomes difficult when people hear about the second human in Ooo, and whatever effect that's keeping him young starts to wear off. (Marceline comes to visit and has a heart attack)

3.) Adventure Falls AU: AT x GF baybee!! Seventeen year old Stanley Pines hops on the Stan O' War and sets sail when he's kicked out. Unfortunately, that boat is nowhere near sea worthy, and all it takes for him to go overboard is one sudden (magical) storm. But, miraculously, Stan doesn't die. He washes up on Ooo, the island of misfits. Where there's daddy issues galore and punching things and getting gold is a legitimate career. He's found on the shore by none other than Finn, who asks if he's okay and if a dungeon adventure would soothe his worries. Stan accepts, because that sounds awesome, and they maybe date. For the next ten years, Stanley is a professional hero. He travels with Finn, he lives in a tower with tons of gold, he's respected, adored, and has made a family for himself. Ooo has a habit of forcing traumatic therapy onto to people, so Stan gets (read: is forced) to work his issues out. And then, somehow, he gets a postcard from his brother.

4.) Young Pups AU: Jake's kids grow up fast- but not that fast. He stays with lady for a few episodes being Dad and when the Pups are old enough, go visit Finn and Jermaine. Also Jermaine is there when the pups are born that always bothered me in canon like what the fuck. This whole AU results in Jake the Dad being a better father than in canon, because he actually has time to make mistakes and learn from them. He sometimes shapeshifts into one of those baby carriers but suited for five kids instead of one. Finn and Jermaine fight for best uncle privileges. Finn is considerably more awesome but Jermaine's got magic junk and juicy stories about Jake. So far the votes are: FINN: Jake Jr, T.V.  JERMAINE: Kim Kil Whan, Charlie. Viola remains undecided.

4.) Evilgreen AU: Evergreen was evil. His idea to make the crown to stop the comet was actually a cover story to take control of all the elements and freeze everything. Of course the same thing happens here as it did in canon, Gunther gets the crown and wishes to *be* evergreen. This is bad. Very bad, so bad in fact, that things get FUnKy. A couple eons later, Simon gets the crown as per canon, and then things start to slide downhill. Since the crown is significantly worse, Simon tries to get rid of it. No amount of magic pull is going to get him to put on the eldritch hat. It teleports back. When things go to shit, the crown tells him he's got two options: He can either live, or he can live unwillingly. This all coalesces in super angst and mild horror as Simon has to fight off evil urges and somehow keep both he and Marceline safe. Things start looking up, though, when he summons Hunson Abadeer.

5.) Nightmare Therapy AU: Simon, now himself post canon, has some funky nightmares. Problem is: he's due for a visit from the cosmic owl due to some mystical bureaucratic bs. If that were to happen, Simon's dreams of Golb and Orgalorg and the world ending and everyone dying and maze would come true, without the veil of metaphoric junk dreams are known for (also due to bureaucratic bs). So, Simon gets a dream therapist. An OC, probably, that would fight off his nightmares when they came and talk to him about his issues.

6.) High School AU: Except they're all still magic and crap. Finn's a jock that's part of the LDnD club(Literally Dungeons and Dragons), Jake's got a job at a pancake place and hosts the Card Wars clubs on Wednesdays, Jermaine's in college and their parents were still detectives/demon hunters. PB is preppy/nerdy girl with weird fucking family and is absolutely a mad scientist. Marceline is still a demon/vamp (vampire biker gang, they all died, deaths pending) and her uncle is Simon. Simon is a history teacher whose ex wife might be an eldritch abomination (the students wonder, but there are no answers)((simon says cryptic things every so often that are the subject of much ridicule, but he's a nice guy)). Ooo High has all of the AT characters in some shape or form. Tree trunks is the lunchlady, Mr Pig is a janitor. Lemongrab is just there. LSP(Q?) is a teacher because that's hilarious. Hunson is dead along with Marceline's mom because fuck hunson. Magic Man is a hobo that snuck onto campus and can't be chased off (his brother is the superintendent, Glob). there's a lot more but that's for a different word doc.

7.) Back to the Future AU: So PB fucks around with time travel, right? For science. She gets sent back in time a thousand years, before the war. Now, she's a pink lady who can shoot jelly beans from her hands, of course needs to lay low. And of course she needs to get home, but she's in a Futurama situation where she only has one type of time machine; the one that can go into the past. Not to mention her own time machine got busted on her way there, so she's double screwed. But, she remembers something. There is an individual (two, actually) that knows about time travel in this time period. She knows him, and he's likely to help her if she plays her card right. She needs to find Simon and get back to her own time, preferably without dooming herself in the process. (perhaps she tries to steal the notes Simon has, and Simon's completely oblivious, except Betty can smell trouble from a mile away and immediately notices some pink woman trying to steal books and she goes ham. Perhaps she goes ham in such a way that Simon doesn't notice. Perhaps this goes on for seven acts.)

8.) Bread and Butter AU: Bella Noche during the episode Betty creates a huge black cube that engulfs all of Wizard City. This box acts as a cage and prevents Wizards from escaping the magic purge. Simon is unable to bring Betty back from the past, and he's fading fast. In a desperate attempt to stop things from escalating, Simon chugs a bottle of anti-magic like a fucking god. He gets through the cube that surrounds Bella Noche and knocks their lights out. He passes out, and when he comes to, the anti-magic he consumed as merged with him. This is because of a simple rule: Magic sticks to magic, anti-magic sticks to anti-magic. And since humans have always had just a little bit of anti -magic present within them, humans and anti-magic go together like bread and butter (badumtish) ((I have actually written a fanfic about this, you can find it here))

9.) Swapped AU: Through various shenanigans Ice King's and Magic Man's powers gets swapped. These shenanigans somehow land them in space as well. This happens before Magic Man's trial. The swapping of their powers results in Simon getting his memory back. It also gives Magic Man the Ice Crown, unfortunately for him though, it seems to hate him. Simon's glad to back, but quickly realizes one issue: He's still crazy. So the pair try to make it back to Ooo. MM needs his powers to swap himself with some other shmuck so he doesn't croak when his trial comes, but Simon's made it clear he isn't giving his powers up without a fight. The pair starts off rocky, neither trusting the other, but space trouble forces them to work together. Simon's a nice enough guy he wouldn't leave someone to die and MM really needs Simon alive so it works out. A weird friendship forms, and they learn get along. Just a couple of crazy space wizards. Then the crown is destroyed. MM is freed from the crown's control, and he's freed from magic. He gets his sanity back, just in time for his trial.

that’s all I’ve got for now!

#at #adventure time #adventure time au #adventure time aus #Finn the Human #finn #jake the dog #jake #marceline #princess bubblegum #pb #simon petrikov #betty grof #ice king #magic man #au #aus

[harrypotter-imaginess]

A/N: I just want to say, for my OG readers that have been reading this since I first posted the headcanon list last year, I love and appreciate y’all so much!! If you want, since this is a long term project, I can add you to the tag list if you like :)

Also Letter commission’s are open until 3/10, so if your interested, price and info are here. 

Based on this Headcanon list (x) : Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! <This is Part 4!>

You sigh, eyes glancing back at your watch.

Maybe it’s off?

You wouldn’t put it past Fred to screw up the time on your watch just so you would show up an hour early to your class, wondering if it was always this dark at eight in the morning.

But if Fred did mess with your watch, how does that explain everyone else? You turn to your right and look at a group of third and fourth years scattered around the room. Surely he couldn’t have changed the time in everyone’s watch.

Though at this point you know better than to assume anything is impossible for Fred Weasley, especially if he’s able to get George on board with his pranks.

You sigh, eyes sweeping over the room again. The chatting has long died down, now it looks like all those late nights in the common room playing exploding snap are finally beginning catching up.

Especially when the class was missing the particularly loud and somewhat entertaining antics of the one and only, Gilderoy Lockhart. It wasn’t that it was particularly fun to watch his nonsensical lessons or anything- but at least it was something to watch. And as long as you were barley competent, you could get by just fine on the “pop quizzes” he had. Though they were really more like magazine quizzes about how well you knew him.

Plus he was pretty good looking, though you would rather die than admit that to Fred or George.

Speaking of your favorite pair of doppelgängers-

You turn to look at your side, the two chair next to you on the long bench are vacant. Well, it’s not like it’s totally unusual for them to skip class. You can count on one hand how many times they’ve been excited to come to defense against the dark arts this year. But-

But... they usually invite you when they do decide to play hooky.

Maybe they didn’t invite you because you’re always persuading them to come to class instead. ‘You don’t want a howler from your Mum now do you?’ You would say, pushing them towards the class.

Maybe they just don’t think you’re fun to be around anymore. No, no, they’re your friends- you can’t start thinking like that, there must be a good reason why-

“Hey (Y/N/N)” George squeezes past you, plopping into the chair next to you with a soft rattle.

His hair’s sticking every which way, his robe is crooked, and his tie isn’t even tied, just hanging limply along his neck. 

“You don’t even have your bag George” you hiss, did he finally get into a fist fight with Draco Malfoy? You’ve told them both not to think too hard about how he called you-

“Wait where’s Fred?” You look to the door, expecting to see a messy head of fire red hair walk through the door, sporting bruises and maybe a grin like his black eye is a gold medal.

But instead, there’s a familiar head of golden hair standing in the doorway. It’s Gilderoy Lockhart. There’s no doubt about it, the image of him is perfect. Of course it’s your professor.

Of course it is.

But there’s something about the way he carries himself? Like he’s still getting used to having legs so short. The way his smile seems a little more...mischievous than usual, that twinkle of absolute delight in those strangely familiar eyes.

“Oh no” you mumble, but George grins from beside you.

“I’m not going to be needing my bag, and neither are you” George whispers in your ear, and you turn to look at him.

They didn’t.

“Good afternoon class, sorry I’m late! I was admiring myself in one of my thirty mirrors and the time just...got away from me.” ‘Professor Lockhart’ says flashing his class the most condescending smile you have ever seen.

“That’s not a lie you know, we did find him admiring himself in the mirror” George whispers, your face is in your hands but you don’t need to look at him to know he’s got a pleased grin on his face.

“It’s why it was so easy to knock him out and shove him into the teachers lounge- he never even saw it coming”

Well at least they didn’t shove him into a broom closet.

“Now class, I would like you to write a list of things you love about me-“ there’s a collective groan and the rustle of parchment but neither you and George don’t move a muscle.

“Four feet at least!” Fred, in his Lockhart-skin-suit bellows, which earns another collective groan from the rest of the class.

“So what, did you draw the short stick, why aren’t you up there?” You ask jerking your head towards Fred, it looks like the more fun part of the prank honestly. It also seems like the sweetest m form of revenge after old Gildy gave you three detention last week for showing up late to class, but you won’t mention that.

George only shrugs.

Honestly ninety percent of this situation was Fred’s poor impulse control. One second they were running late to class, and George was worrying about getting detention because if he has to scrub all those awards for Filch again he won’t be able to hold a quil - and the next thing he knows he’s carrying Lockhart by his feet into the teachers lounge.

“He’s the showman, I’m just the side kick.” George shrugs, it’s been that way since they were kids. Fred would come up with an idea and George would follow his lead.

Not that he’s upset about it. It’s always interesting, he’s hasn’t been bored in years. Still, he can’t help but wonder if they didn’t share the same face, would he and Fred be as close as they are now?

Or would he be just as easily replaced, most likely by Lee Jordan. Well Ron might make a more susceptible accomplice, would anyone do-

“And where would our fearless leader be without his trustworthy sidekicks?” You say, a hint of a smile twitching at the corner of your lips. Your voice drawing George out of his thoughts.

“Probably in detention” You muse, that or jail, because technically they assaulted their professor, and that’s got to be a serious offense.

George laughs next to you, well you’ve got a point. If it wasn’t for you and him, you three would have been expelled long ago. He’s about to lean over and whisper something in your ear when some interrupts him mid motion.

“Weasley and (L/N), less flirting and more quil movement, yes?” He really sounds like Fred right there, a hint of an accent peaking through. Not that anyone other than you and George seem to notice. They’re all too busy contemplating how embarrassing it must be to get called out for not paying attention by Gilderoy Lockhart of all people.

You manage to not roll your eyes, sifting through your bag until you pull out some parchment.

“Geez four feet? That’s kind of excessive” you mumble while George is holding back laughter so violent he’s actually shaking.

“You know he’s just teasin’ right? It’s not like Lockhart’s actually going to grade these-“ and then a horrible realization dawns on him.

Half of the reason they thought this plan would work is because someone as pompous as Gilderoy Lockhart would never admit that two teenage boys hit him over the head with one of his books, and shoved him on a sofa (after tying his shoe laces together).

No, good old Gildy would go along like nothing had even happened, perhaps he’d even believe that nothing had really happened. Not enough sleep and too much caffeine do result in memory loss. And who can sleep with ‘the heir of Slytherin’ on the loose?

Ordering-sorry, assigning them to write four feet worth of parchment about what they admire about their professor sounds exactly like something he would do.

“Fucking Fred.” George hisses, why did he bloody have to pick four feet? Wouldn’t just one foot have sufficed? But no, the great Fred could never- ‘it adds enthusiasm, it’s all about the drama’ he would say.

Well where’s your god damn drama now that your best friend and brother are about to fail this god forksaken class, all because you couldn’t say one foot instead of f*cking four, George wants to scream.

You sigh, cutting your parchment in half, handing one half to George. You’ve only got four feet on you, you didn’t think you would need any more than that, so the both of you are just going to have to turn in two feet each.

“Sure would be a shame if Fred came back to the dorm and found, oh I don’t know, fifty spiders in his bed” you muse as you pull out two quills, and a bottle of ink. You’ve only got the one bottle, you’ll have to share.

But George isn’t paying any mind to the ink and parchment situation, instead he’s grinning at your suggestion. He always knew you had a wicked streak.

“Yeah it would be a real shame if say, two people were to go down to Hagrid’s hut, collect some drool from Fang, and smear it all over Fred’s robes” You peer at George from the corner of your eye, trying to hide your smile behind your hand.

“Oh well now wouldn’t that just be awful, hypothetically of course” You say, looking down to your parchment

“Truly a tragedy” He responds with a grin.

#harry potter imagine #harry potter #fred and goerge weasley #Fred and George Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley imagine #george weasley imagine #Fred Weasley x reader #george weasley headcanon #george and fred weasley #george weasley x reader

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “Christmas.”

 wrote this based on a request for fluff, so I have delivered the fluff. There is a certain group of you who will probably be a little bit made at me when you finish :)

But here is the token Christmas episode, and I hope you all like it 

“Alright, try it now.”

“But Commander, I'll have to pull power from the reactor core.”

“I said do it airmen, did it sound like a question?”

“Yes, sir.”

A sudden eruption of lights exploded about the mess hall, and down the hallways of the ship, thousands of tiny twinkling lights. Krill, having been walking to speak with the Commander paused at the entrance to the room and spun around in wonder. Lines upon lines of lights had appeared out of nowhere to be projected around the walls of the room and down the hallways of the ship. They weren’t  bright or anything, instead an almost delicate yellow in color gently twinkling like the light of distant stars.

“Get those overhead lights off,”

With a loud thud, the lights switched off, casting the room into the warm ambient glow of those thousand twinkling lights. He spun in a circle staring up at the ceiling, shocked to find a mosaic of falling snowflakes, which faded and vanished before hitting the floor,

“Give me more fall-off on that snow airman. Tomorrow better be magical or someone is getting their ass fired.”

He turned his head again eyes widening in geater wonder as they fell on the center of the room. The flickering, projected hologram of a massive tree. It was one of those furry looking earth plants that could reach higher than thirty feet tall, though this one only nearly brushed the ceiling. It stood in the middle of the room decorated by hundreds more twinkling lights, yards of red ribbon and shiny glass balls. Atop the tree, there was projected the human caricature of a star glittering with firelight.

Tongues of phantom fire licked against the far wall, under a mantle of stone and brick.

Krill turned in another wide circle as the strange lights flickered around him, reminding him strangely of the space walk he had gone on with the commander so long ago, stepping out into the darkness surrounded by stars, alone in the vastness of space, but where that had been cold and distant, this was a close warmness that filled him up from the inside and made him feel oddly warm.

Soft footsteps behind him and then a  pause.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“What is it?’

“Realistically, more than four thousand years of pagan-christian and corporate tradition.” Krill looked up to find the array of glittering lights reflected against the human’s bright green iris. His voice grew soft, though it stayed warm, “More romanticized…. This is…. Home. This is childhood and imagination, and family wrapped in a box and tied with a bow. This is being warm when its cold and loved when you’re alone. This is comfort on the edges of space when earth is a trillion lightyears away and you may never go back.”

“Feeling a bit poetic today I see?’

The Commander shrugged, “Maybe a little…. Kind of homesick too.” he sighed, “This is the first year I won’t be celebrating Christmas with my family.” 

“Christmas?”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly sure what it meant to other people, but when I was a kid, it was mostly just a day to celebrate our family…. Mom loves Christmas, she goes all out every year, even when things were tight…. She always managed to make things special. One year dad snuck out in the middle of the night and left reindeer tracks in the snow to convince us they had been there.”

“Er, Reindeer?”

“Ah, never mind. I’ll tell you about it later. Important thing is getting everything ready for tonight. If you want to see the real magic.”

Krill stared at the commander as he walked away not entirely sure what the hell that was supposed to mean. He was trailed by a rather grumpy looking Glados. In the past few months the adaptid had grown to the size of a medium sized dog, and the Commander was, more and more, forcing her to walk on her own, Which she didn’t much like.

Krill glanced around at the lights one last time before returning down the hall and towards the medical bay. All across the ship crew members were busy putting up decorations, stringing strange fluffy streamers over the exposed piping. 

One crew-member, in a red and a green hat with a bell on top was hanging strange plants from the tops of doorways. He looked on in confusion before stepping into the medical bay greeted by Dr. Katie, who was wearing a red and white dress with a matching hat and striped leggings. She looked like a peppermint stick...

“Good evening krlll, are you ready for christmas?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Other than it's some sort of human holiday.”

“Yeah, it’s the one day of year where people get together and give each other gifts and stuff. To some people it means different things, simply a family day or to celebrate religious figures. Just sort of depends. Some people don’t celebrate it at all, but the Commander seems pretty big on christmas, so why not.”

“Why are you dressed up like that?”

She winked at him, “Because I’m an elf silly.”

“You know this is almost the first time in half a year in which I have no understood a single word coming out of your mouth. She simply winked and continued on her way whistling happily.” 

Of course the night came, and out of Character Dr. katie curled up on one of the hospital beds and fell asleep leaving Krill alone in the half darkness. He spent the rest of his time on the internet looking up information on the so-called holiday. What he found was a tangled mess of pagan-cristian-and corporate traditions just like the Commander had suggested. A lot to do with saints and demons and more information than he was willing to read all the way through at this moment. He wasn’t a xeno historian after all.

The night wore on, and he sensed a strange stillness in the air around him caused by the ambient light leaking in from the hallway, warm and fiery.

It was close to two in the morning when a knock came on the door to the medical bay. Dr. Katie stirred and sat up adjusting her dress as she ran over motioning Krill after her. Curiously he followed after her, stepping into the hall to find….. More than a strange sight. There was Conn, draped all over in glittering tinsel to add to his flowing ribbons. A couple other humans were dressed in the strange red and green costumes with pointy hats and bells on their shoes. Waffles, the dog, was sitting just before the door wearing a fake pair of antlers, her tongue lolling happily from one side of her mouth. Sitting with her were the three adaptids in similar states of dress glados looking cowed but a little more than miffed to be there. Both of them were covered in bells as well, and all of that strangeness arrayed around the weirdest thing of all,  a very large fat man in a blindingly red suit, and big white beard.

He moved forward ad Dr. Katie hopped over to join the strange party grinning and giggling as she patted waffle’s head. The dog licked her hand, “You make such adorable reindeer.” She reached down to pat Glados next, and the adaptid sulked, but didn’t try to bite her as she might have done with someone else.

“HO HO HO, Merry Christmas!” Said the big fat man, and looking up into his eyes, Krill suddenly grew very suspicious. He had only ever seen a shade of green like that on one human.

“What the hell have you done to yourself.” he demanded.

Adam raised an eyebrow, though most of his face was covered by a beard, “I have no idea what you’re on about.”

Krill was horrified, “Look at you…. How…. how do you gain that much weight in such a short amount of time. Are you mad? Are you ok? Are you going to die of a heart attack in the next fifteen minutes because something tells me this can’t be healthy.” He glared at the human, “When were you going to tell me that humans could just spontaneously gain an enormous amount of weight. Whatever this is, it is an immediate medical emergency. Plus the beard, some serious hormonal dis-regulation I can’t even begin to imagine what sort of-”

“KRILL! Its a suit, a costume, I didn’t just spontaneously gain weight.” The human adjusted his beard voice sounding more normal now that he wasn’t trying to make it deeper, “I’m Santa Claus? 

“And who is that supposed to be?”

“Well, he is the physical embodiment of the spirit of Christmas. Legend says, he lives at the north pole, and works with the elves making toys all year round. He keeps to lists, and on one list appears the name of all the well behaved children, and on the other list appears the names of the naughty children, he will check both lists twice, and there is no point trying to trick him because he sees everything. And then on the night of Christmas, he gathers all the presents into the back of his sleigh, which is pulled by nine magical flying reindeer. Then, he takes all night to to fly all around the world delivering presents to kids. Most of the time he comes down the chimney, if you have one. He will fill stockings (socks) hung over the fireplace with small toys and then put the big presents under the Christmas tree. If you were a bad kid than he wouldn’t leave a present, but a lump of coal instead. Generally it is recommended that one leaves some cookies and a glass of milk out as a thank you, oh, and carrots for the reindeer.”

….

There was silence for a long moment, “What  in the name of beelzebub's balls kind of story is that.”

Even through the beard he could tell that Adam was frowning, “Stop being such a Grinch. It’s a great story, to help kids behave, and keep the magic alive for a little while before you become and old cantankerous adult that doesn’t believe in anyone or anything anymore.”

“And what is a grinch.”

“A grinch is an angry green person who hates to see other people happy….. Arguably they also hate corporate Christmas, but I digress. Scrooge is also someone who doesn't get the point of Christmas, and both are definitely insults, now come on. You are joining me and my elves while we go deliver presents.”

Before he could protest, he was presented with pointy hat with a bell on it, and forced to follow as they wandered silently off down the halls.

Adam pulled out a clipboard, “Alright everyone, our list here says that approximately 85% of the crew celebrates Christmas, but we will still be delivering presents to everyone because we are nice and that is what we do. Nobody is expected to join in tomorrow but everyone is invited because we aren't trash humans.” Glados and Waffles walked at his heels as the rest of the humans followed behind lugging large bags over their shoulders, “Alright Katie, you’re with me in filling the stockings, the rest of you are charged with leaving a trail to the mess hall where the actual presents will be, one for everyone at least, no one is left out. Corporal, you get the people who don’t celebrate Christmas, and just leave the gifts outside their doors. Make sure to leave the notes for them as well so  they know they are invited if they want to come.” 

“Yes s…. Ur Mr. Claus?” 

“Damn Straight.”

“What about the Drev?”

“I am including them in the list of people who celebrate simply because I want them to have the experience once before they decide whether they like it or not. Everyone should get the chance to at least choose.”

It too nearly the next few hours to get things done. Krill Accompanied the Commander, Conn, waffles, and the Adaptids as they jingled quietly up the halls slipping into rooms where crew members had been instructed to leave socks hanging from their bed frames. 

On more than one occasion Krill watched as a very confused human, light sleeper, sat up and watched blearily as they exited the room with a confused look on their faces. Some seeming even amused. The heavier sleepers didn’t notice a thing.

They reached the Drev and Marine quarters at some point towards the end of the night, making it through one relatively quickly, but just as he was about to step into the last room, Glados growled and snapped at his boot. 

Commander…. Santa? Looked down and harrumphed, “Someone here is going on the naughty list.” Katie and Krill leaned forward as a light shined down on the delicate silver trip wire cut across the door.

Katie snorted, “Coal.”

Quietly, he stepped over the line and into the room Glados leaping behind him. “Alright which one of the naughty children is trying to capture St. Nick?”

Krill turned on his thermal vision and could see the vast majority of the marines were not sleeping.”

He turned to look over at Krill and Conn, who motioned in the direction of one of the beds. He walked quietly over leaning next to the ear of the ‘supposedly” Sleeping marine, “I see you when you’re sleeping Ramiez .”

There was an eruption of uncontained giggling around the room, which was rather strange coming from the large, muscular humans.

“Oh…. kinky.” A muffled voice whispered from somewhere.

More giggling.

“Is that you Santa?” 

“Guess who's getting coal for Christmas.” 

He turned towards the door.

“Wait, wait, Santa, wait! I have a question. “ 

He paused in the doorway raising his eyebrows at the marines who were sitting up, “What?”

“How did you get here without reindeer?”

He wagged a finger at them, “Very carefully. You better thank my elves, they had to get degrees in engineering, physics and rocket science to get me here. And what is worse, my Star-sleigh was pulled by a bunch of snarky starborn led by that one.” He pointed towards Conn, “he almost guided us into a black hole, so you better be nice and leave me out some cookies next year.” 

He stepped over the tripwire and back out into the hallway allowing the door to shut closed behind them.

Outside there was a trail of tinsel and strange footprints leading away from the doors and down the halls. He left the bag just outside the door with the rest of the stocking stuffers in it, not ever having intended to leave the marines with just coal.

They took one last jingling run up and down the halls for effect before retreating to the mess hall where they promptly passed out on bean bags by the holographic tree in front of the holographic fire. 

Glados crawled up onto the fake belly and curled up there glowering at anyone who got to close. Waffles and the other adaptids curled up just to the side.

***

Sunny woke up early the next morning thinking how odd it was, that strange tinkling sound in the middle of the night. She sat up looking over at the sock she had been asked to place in her room. She had been forced to borrow it from someone considering she didn’t wear socks, and was surprised to find something sticking out of it.

She wandered over and tipped the contents into her hands surprised to find an earth flower, and some miscellaneous items of use for her work down in engineering.

Curiously, she opened the door into the hallway idly munching on the flower, and found a trail leading from her door and down the hall. The scene surprised her, and she wasn’t entirely sure what to think. It clearly had the intention of being followed, and curious, she followed finishing off the flower as she came around the corner dropping the stem in surprise when she saw the room before her.

Hundreds of holographic lights, a tree, fire, piles of blankets and beanbags and lounging humans half asleep. Conn was floating up near the ceiling trailing tinsel. Krill was hovering beside the tree looking more than a little confused. Dr. Katie was moving wrapped gifts below the tree dressed like a peppermint stick.

Adam….. Well Adam was peeling off a suit that added about two hundred pounds to his frame. It seemed as if there had also been a fake beard and massive coat, as far as she could see. Took him a few seconds to wriggle out of the boots and oversized pants dumping them on a chair close by leaving him in a white shirt and military issue olive green pants.

He looked up from where he had dumped his costume and grinned at her.

She walked closer.

“Merry Christmas.”  

“Erm…. Merry Christmas?.... What’s a Christmas.”

“Apparently it’s a human holiday perpetrated on the idea that a magical fat man in a red suit, flies around the world on a magical sleigh pulled by magical non-flying flying mammal to deliver presents to children who were good…. Oh also he watches you when you sleep.” Sunny stared at Krill  in confusion.

Overhead Conn was mimicking voiceless laughter.

“Don’t mind him, he's being a little grinch as usual. Come on, we’re just waiting to give people time to show up, and then we are gonna open presents.”

“How did you manage to get something for everyone?

“Well I asked for help number one, but number two, what else am I supposed to do with my money. I mean I have a place to live, a place to sleep, entertainment, food, anything a guy could as for, so I just threw a paycheck or two at it. Otherwise its just sitting in my bank account collecting dust until I can find something dumb and nerdy to spend it on…. I thought…. Well I thought this would mean more than getting myself a light-saber or something.”

She stared at him for a long moment, “You are such a…. Sap.”

He smiled, “Maybe a little. I mean it's not much, anyway, but it made me feel good.”

She paused, tilted her head, and then hugged him. He seemed a little surprised one eye peering up at her from a four- arm embrace. He didn’t say anything until she let him go and he stepped back to look at her, “What was that for?”

“You…. well. You… deserve it. And I don’t think you get reminded enough.” 

She thought she saw a little bit of red creeping up his neck and he looked down at his feet, waving it off, “Nah, if you knew what went on inside my head, you wouldn’t say that.”

She decided not to argue with him, humans were horrible with accepting compliments sometimes. Instead she found herself sharing music with him as they lay on one of the beanbags waiting for the others to arrive.

He had his eyes closed appearing as if he was sleeping through she knew he probably wasn't . At some point he adjusted himself so that his head was resting on one of her arms, using her like a pillow. A few more people started to trickle in, including the marines, one of which, Ramirez, was wearing bright red footie pajamas and walked over to claim a bean bag just to the wide.

Adam opened an eye and looked over at him, “What the hell are you wearing.” 

“My footie pajamas.”

“Yeah I got that…..”

“Don’t diss the footies..” 

“ Yeah sure, anyway what would have happened if I stepped on the trip-wire?” Sunny lifted her head at the mention of a trip wire.

Ramirez grinned, “it would have been pretty glorious, that’s what, but guess you will never know.”

“Rude.”

A few of the other marines wandered in blearily, CJ, Davis, and maverick who took a seat cross-legged on the floor her short blond hair sticking up in all directions like the open wings of a bird.

Finally The commander determined it was time and began handing out the presents, first to the more introverted people, who he figured could take their present and head off if they really wanted. A few of the non-Christmas-people showed up just to hang out causing a sort of slow trickle in and out of the room almost constantly. 

Krill and Conn were both presented with gifts, Krill who just happened to get a little cube that was advertised as holding about a million different puzzles of all different types and at varying levels He seemed pleased, though he insisted on his patrol through the room to make sure the humans weren’t doing anything stupid.

Conn was presented with some sort of hand-held gaming system, actually relatively cheap compared to what they used to be. 

He loved it.

ANd based on Commander Vir’s smug expression, he had done it on purpose, probably to keep the starborn out of his head.

Sunny was standing at the back of the room watching the humans rather fondly, as well as the other Drev, who seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as the humans. Her brother and Maverick were causing trouble across the room and nearly giving krill a conniption. Watching all of this, she still noticed Adam approaching from the side holding one last box.

He held it up, “One more present left.”

She turned to face him, “For you.”

He held it out, “Well you, obviously….. I sort of waited till last because…. Well you technically got more than everyone else. My Mom sent a few things up, and I just added her gift to mine.”

Sunny took the box and looked up in surprise, “Your mom…. But she…. She hates me.”

A small smile, “I think she's come around. It’s just taken her a while. I think this is supposed to be an apology. It's pretty cute, I think you should wear it.” 

Out of curiosity, she opened the box and looked inside to find a piece of fabric neatly folded on top. With her upper hands she reached to unfold it, whatever it was it was made out of very warm material, “What is it?”

“I guess it's called a cowl. She thought it would be something she could make that wouldn't get in the way of you wearing armor, and, since you guys sometimes wear capes, it would also go with that. Here try it on.” He took it from her hands standing on his tip-toes to pull it over her head and shoulders. Turned out it was pretty much just a hood, unattached to anything and that really only covered the head and shoulders.

She peered out form inside, to see him grinning. 

It was a funny picture, though she could see out, really the only think everyone else saw was the end of her snout/beak peeping out from under the hood. She lifted her head, and the hood fell a little further over her eyes.

He laughed, and helped her pull it back a bit, “She thought since you guys are more… warm weather creatures, that you could probably use one of these on our expeditions.”

“You should tell her thanks, from me.” 

“I will.”

She looked back down inside the box and was surprised to find it was full of different kinds of flowers. She looked back up at him in surprise, “How did you get these out here.”

“Wasn’t easy, tell you that.”

She leaned down snapping one of them up rewarded with a very light fragrant flavor. It was pretty nice, but then she looked back at Adam to see him smiling nearly dropping the box when she realized, “You! Where is your present. Didn’t you get anything?”

He just broke into a smile, “Sunny, I’m friends with like seven different kinds of aliens, I Command an entire FLEET of spaceships, and have like 300+ friends. I got my childhood dream, so what else do I need?”

She paused sure he was right, but also feeling bad.

They stood there together, looking out at the room when Ramirez glided past still in his footie pajamas. As he did his eyes widened a bit and he paused a slow grin spreading over his face. Adam gave him a very confused expression, but Ramirez just shook his head and pointed up before gliding away.

In confusion both Sunny and Adam looked up. 

Sunny tilted her head.

“What is that?”

She turned her head down to look at Adam and found the man’s skin changing color again. “Er….. it’s…. That appears to be…. mistletoe .” 

She lifted her head again to stare at the strange plant, “Oh….. like in that Christmas movie….”

“Yeah…. Like in that…. Christmas movie.” 

“Oh.”

They both looked down at about the same time. The way the Christmas lights interacted with the UV patterns on his skin, turned the usually blue, turquoise pattern on his skin almost electric lightning blue. The green in his eyes was more potent with the way the light refracted in them. Little twinkling lights danced over the polished surface of her bright-blue carapace.

He didn’t look away.

Neither did she.

And then a small brown shape came screaming from nowhere cutting between them. They both stepped back in shock, and Krill roared past grabbing the plant from where it hung, “Reeeeeeeeeeeeeee! NO, NO, NO, NO STUPID IDIOTIC HUMANS HANGING POISONOUS THINGS WHERE ANY OTHER STUPID HUMAN MIGHT EAT THEM! I WILL NOT HAVE IT YOU HEAR ME. I WILL NOT”  and then he went roaring away trailing laughter in his wake. Slowly Sunny and Adam turned to look at each other before doubling over racked with fits of laughter. Adam ended up on the floor leaning against the wall, just below where Sunny propped herself.

Just when they thought they'd stop laughing, they started up again.

“Damn…. Crazy…. Bastard.” Adam  Wheezed crawling to his feet

“Did you hear that sound he made?”

“Yeah, classic Krill….. Anyway.” He paused shuffling his feet, “Wanna go, push Ramirez over or something?”

“Sounds fun, I’m in.”

“Sweet.”

By the end of the hour, Ramirez was upside down in a pile of bean bags everyone laughing at his expense.

All in all, it was a pretty good Christmas