i just sort of sit around hoping for something good to magically appear

Imagine you tried to rob a wizard's tower

The cold stone walls close in on you. There’s fresh, clean straw under you and an empty bucket in one corner. A torch burns resolutely in the hallway. You knew this was a stupid idea. One of the boys in your village convinced you that the wizard is a fraud, that his potions are sugar water and his magical talismans are useless bits of junk. The boy dared you to sneak into the wizard’s tower, steal something, and bring it back. You agreed, but mostly to shut him up. You’re not afraid of the wizard or his alleged power. There’s no such thing as magic, after all.

The wizard’s tower was just outside of the village, at the edge of the forest. If it had any kind of guards or defenders, you’d never seen them. You snuck in through a crack in the wall and looked through shelves of bones and crystals and things you couldn’t even identify, searching for something small enough to slip into your pocket. You were startled by a noise behind you, and even more startled when you turned to look at the source. A little humanlike figure, about the size of a pigeon, sat perched on a shelf and grinned at you. It spread out its batlike wings and said something in a language you’d never heard, a few syllables that echoed strangely in the small room. Everything went black, and when you woke up, you were in a cell.

So here you are, imprisoned. There’s a man looking at you through the barred door. He’s a short and slight, with a neatly trimmed beard. You’ve seen him before, hawking the wizard’s wares in the village market, all smiles and lofty promises as he peddled healing potions and fertility charms. He is not smiling now.

“Why did you invade my tower?” he asks. “Go on, let’s hear it.”

You’ve always assumed that he was actually the wizard’s assistant, or just a hireling. He looks nothing like you’ve always pictured wizards. He’s wearing a look of extreme annoyance and the kind of tunic and trousers that wouldn’t look out of place on the village innkeeper. You don’t know what you expected. Elaborate robes and a long gray beard. For some unknowable reason, you’re unwise enough to say so.

“The robes are only for ceremonial use,” he says. “They are dreadfully uncomfortable. I can’t be bothered to wear them all the time. You break into my home, and now you expect me to walk around draped in all that nonsense just to meet your expectations?”

Lost for words, you can only shake your head.

“And what about you?” he asks, crossing his arms. “Why are you here? I warn you, I won’t take pity on you no matter how heartrending your story is. Your mother’s dying from some horrible disease the healers have never seen before? Is it your sister? Are your crops failing? I rather liked the thief who said he needed a lucky charm so he could win enough gold to pay off his gambling debts. I can imagine how he got into trouble in the first place.”

“A boy in the village dared me,” you admit, and your voice comes out as little more than a whisper. It sounds pathetic even to you. Your heart is pounding and if you weren’t still on the ground, you’d probably collapse anyway. “I only said yes so he’d shut up. I didn’t even take anything. I swear, I’ll never come here again-” You trail off as the words die in your throat.

The wizard closes his eyes and sighs deeply. “Those charms I sell in the market? Those are mere trinkets,” he says. “Little things to keep the villagers happy. You have no idea what I can really do. If you ran off with something really dangerous, you could unleash horrors you can’t even imagine. I mean hellfire raining from the skies, cattle transforming into ravenous beasts. And that would be the least of it. You could end the world.”

“I’m sorry,” you try to say, but it just comes out as a squeaking noise.

He’s still glaring at you, but something in his expression actually seems to soften a little. “Still, you’re honest,” he says. “That’s a rare trait.”

“Are you going to let me go?” you ask.

The little winged creature is sitting on his shoulder. It chitters at you and draws one slender finger across its throat.

The wizard smiles coldly. “Eventually,” he says. “I can’t let intruders just run off on their merry way. You might decide to pay me a return visit. Or tell someone that I’m soft on thievery.” He pulls a bottle out of his pocket and holds it up to the bars. It’s clear glass, with a cork trapping some clear reddish liquid inside. “Here’s the deal. Drink this, endure what’s going to happen to you, and then you can go. Don’t drink it, and you’ll stay locked in this cell forever or until I find another use for you and all those delightful organs of yours. You would not believe what you can do with a human spleen.”

You hesitate. “Endure” is a very scary word, considering your current situation. But he did promise to let you go, and whatever that potion does can’t be worse than staying locked up forever. At least, you hope not.

The potion bottle clinks against cold iron as you pull it through the bars.. It’s heavier than it looks. “What is it?” you ask, studying the contents. “What’s going to happen to me if I drink this?”

“And ruin the surprise? It will hurt,” he says. “It won’t kill you. If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have bothered with the cell or dangling the thought of freedom out in front of you. I’m not that sadistic. Well, I am. But only sometimes.”

It’s still not very reassuring, but what he’s saying makes sense. He hasn’t hurt you so far, besides locking you up. And to be honest, taking his offer is the best option you have available. “Okay,” you say. “I’ll drink it. And then do you swear by the Light that you’ll let me go?”

The wizard is quiet for a moment. “The Light and I are not on particularly good terms,” he says. “But if it puts you more at ease, I swear by the Light that I’ll release you alive and unharmed.”

Somehow, it doesn’t put you at ease at all. But you believe him.

You try to open the potion bottle. The cork’s wedged in tightly and your hands are shaking too hard to pull it out. The little winged creature flutters off the wizard’s shoulder, flies right through the door, and lands beside you. Its agile fingers work the cork out easily, and the creature holds the bottle out to you expectantly. The potion smells like herbs and something you can’t quite identify.

“My familiar will have to stay here to keep you company,” says the wizard. “I can see through its eyes, and it is rather stronger than it appears. I’d advise against trying anything. Now, drink that so I can get back to work.”

Closing your eyes, you swallow the bottle’s contents. It tastes overly sweet and your throat tingles afterwards. You’re tingling all over, actually, and you can feel something shifting deep inside of you. There’s a twinge of pain deep in your belly. “What did I just drink?” you ask, trying to fight off a feeling of impending doom. “What’s happening to me?”

The wizard’s already setting off down the hallway. “You’ll see,” is all he says.


The familiar can’t seem to sit still. It paces up and down the length of your cell, occasionally flying out through the walls and back again. Whenever you try the walls they’re solid rock; the familiar must be able to pass through them magically. Once, you get up to try the door but the familiar just chitters at you menacingly. You sit back down and try to ignore the growing ache in your belly.

It started out as a mild annoyance, so slight you thought you were imagining it. Now it feels like someone’s punched you in the belly; not hard, but it hurts enough to be distracting. It feels like hours have passed but aside from the stomachache, nothing else seems to be happening to you. Maybe the potion really was sugar water after all. Or maybe it just didn’t work. You hope it didn’t work. Then the wizard’ll have to let you go just like he promised, right?

Your clothes are getting tighter around your middle. That’s odd. As you reach down to put a hand on your stomach, an icy rush of panic fills you. Your belly’s growing. It’s slow at first, but it soon starts growing faster. Eventually you have to strip out of your clothes just to make room for your new bulk. Once, a woman in the village gave birth to twins, and you’re bigger now than she ever was. You sit with your back against the cold stone wall and watch as you grow bigger and bigger, pinned beneath your own growing belly. Whatever’s inside you, it’s so heavy that you’re not sure you could stand up if you tried to. You run your hands over your belly, oddly fascinated by the feeling of it under your fingers. Your curiosity almost overcomes the fear.

Something slick is running out of you and down your legs to pool in the straw bedding. You wonder what’s inside you, and if it’s close to being born. Some kind of creature? You’ve heard that pregnant women can feel their babies moving, but you don’t feel anything besides a steadily growing weight. So maybe it’s not a creature.

That’s almost comforting. You’ve been imagining all kinds of horrible scenarios. Now you don’t need to worry that there’s some sort of demon beast about to claw its way out of you. Well, you weren’t worried about that before. You’re a little worried now.

All at once you feel a rush of fluid and some immense weight slipping into your passage. All your other thoughts vanish. There’s something inside you and you need to get it out, that’s all you know. You push, but you feel like the thing inside you is barely moving at all. You whimper in pain as you push harder, and you think you can feel it just barely inching its way down your passage.

You can feel your skin bulge outwards as the thing moves downwards one agonizing push at a time. The wizard said it would hurt, but this is so much worse than you feared. You feel tears streaming down your face as you try to force the thing out. You can feel it straining for release at your entrance. It’s barely half out and it’s already stretching you impossibly wide. By the Light, it feels like you’re going to split open. But you don’t, and you watch dumbfounded as an egg slides out of you.

An egg. You’re being held prisoner by a sadistic wizard, and he’s forcing you to lay eggs. It would be almost funny if you weren’t in so much pain right now. You let out a groan as another one enters your passage, begging you to squeeze it out. Again, you start to push, and again, you feel like the egg is barely moving at all. You scream, but it dissolves into helpless sobbing.

This is impossible. That first egg felt bigger than anything you could possibly squeeze out, and who knows how many more you have inside you? The wizard said he’d release you “eventually”. What does that even mean? How long does he expect to keep you here? Hours? Days? Weeks?

The familiar picks up your egg and flies out of the cell with it, apparently having no trouble carrying an object bigger than itself. You wonder where they’re going, what the wizard intends for these eggs. But then you need to push again and the effort drives everything else out of your mind.

The second doesn’t come much easier, but after another exhausting ordeal an egg drops out of you and onto the straw below. And, again, the familiar scoops it up and flies off with it to who knows where. You feel a third egg enter your passage. Then a fourth, a fifth. You’re losing count. All you can do is keep laying eggs and pray that there’s an end in sight.

They start coming faster and faster. After you birth each egg you barely have time to catch your breath before the next one starts working its way out. You barely noticed it through the haze of pain but now you realize that your belly hasn’t been shrinking. In fact, it’s growing. New eggs are forming inside you faster than you can push them out.

A horrible thought occurs to you.

“When I lay them all, that’s it?” you ask the familiar, between gasps. “He’ll let me go?”

The familiar nods excitedly.

“But-” You thought you were out of tears but now you can feel more welling up. You just keep growing more. You’ve been tricked. The wizard lied. He’s never going to let you go. You’ll just stay here in this cell forever, spewing out eggs until you die, wondering when the tide will finally stop. Your throat’s already hoarse, but you scream as another egg starts to slide down your passage.


You cry in relief when you notice that your belly is finally shrinking. By the end, the eggs just slide out of you with no resistance; you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to. Your hole is stretched beyond recognition and every part of you hurts. You lie there in the straw, too spent to move. “Please, let it be over,” you whisper. You’ll never steal anything ever again. You’ll go to the Chapel of the Light every Sun’s Day and pray for forgiveness. You’ll kill the bastard who dared you to come here in the first place.

The wizard steps into view in the hallway as his familiar carries the last egg away. “Normally I give my guests a second or third dose of the ovigenesis potion,” he says, by way of greeting. “But, well, you were honest with me. If you like, you can have this instead.”

The potion in his hands now is one you recognize. It’s one of the milky-pink healing potions he sells in the marketplace. He offers it to you and you drink it down without an argument. It takes effect almost instantly. Your pain fades and you can feel your poor, abused muscles repairing themselves. In a few minutes you feel almost as good as new. Almost.

You were too exhausted to realize that you’re still naked. Naked in front of a strange man who has you locked in a cell. Reflexively, you cover yourself.

The wizard chuckles a little. “I can see through my familiar’s eyes, remember? I’ve seen all you have to offer and I have no prurient interest in your body. To me, you’re just a source of raw materials.”

You really don’t like the way he says that. Your hands stay where they are and you look over at your discarded clothing. Your discarded, wet clothing. Ugh.

“I can clean the…assorted fluids out of your clothes. You know, with magic.” He mutters something and waves his hands. The familiar neatly folds your clothes and lays them on a dry patch of straw. “There we go. Do you have any other pressing needs? A glass of water, perhaps?”

You answer no. Actually, you’d love a cold drink of water right now but besides the healing potion, you’re not sure you’d feel safe drinking anything he might offer you.

The wizard shrugs. “As I promised, you’re alive and unharmed. Mostly unharmed, at least. My healing potion will take care of that. I’m sure you can feel it working already. When you’ve recovered, you can leave.” He turns and walks off into the darkened hallways.

Strength returns to your body and your poor, abused hole even starts to close up. When you feel confident that you can stand without falling over, you dress yourself and follow the chittering familiar out through the wizard’s dungeons. You head out through the tower’s front doors and into the night. Outside, the breeze smells sweeter than the finest perfume. You stagger home and collapse into your bed, sleeping soundly until well into the afternoon.


You never go near the tower again. The village boy shows up at your house the next day and asks what happened. You’re tempted to punch him, but you don’t have the strength. Instead, you tell him to fuck off as viciously as you can manage. He doesn’t bother you again.

But it doesn’t quite end there. You try to avoid the wizard’s stall on market days but somehow he’s always right in your path, and he always greets you with a wide smile and a cheerful “Well, if it isn’t my favorite customer!” Sometimes, he tries to offer you a very familiar red potion. Your heart stops when you see it, but then he gives you a wink and slips the bottle back into some hidden pocket.

Lately he’s been selling “dragon’s egg” potions and carved amulets. Whenever you see them set out and glinting in the sunlight, you ache somewhere deep inside. You’re sure those eggs didn’t come out of any dragon, but you can never work up the nerve to ask.

You develop a profound sense of appreciation for chickens and egg-laying creatures of all kinds. You can never look at an omelette the same way again.

And it turns out that the potion never truly wore off. Once every few months, you’re awakened in the middle of the night by a sharp pain in your abdomen. The wizard’s familiar swoops in as you push a giant egg out of yourself, cackling to itself as it watches you strain. Laying the egg is always worse than you remember; every push feels useless, like the egg’s trying to cling to your insides out of sheer spite. Eventually it crowns and then slides out, leaving a void where your insides were stretched around it.

Every time, you wonder if this egg will really be the last one. Every time, you ask the familiar to tell the wizard you’re sorry, you never meant any harm, and can he fix what the potion did to you?

The familiar just grins at you and flies off into the night, holding your newborn egg in its arms.

(Hi! I’m deepoceanblue and when I sat down at my computer, this happened. Thanks for reading <3)

anonymous asked:

yuuri is a witch in training and viktor is a prince!

guys. which one of you failed to inform me that yesterday was @beanpots‘s bday? this is dedicated to them now

The bell above the door tinkles merrily as it opens. Viktor steps in nervously, pulling his hood about him and closing the door quickly, before peering out the little window in the door to make sure he hadn’t been tailed.

After ascertaining that no one had, he steps out into the main part of this shop, looking around him at the dried herbs tied to the ceiling and gathered in baskets all around. A book lies open on the counter, next to a mortar and pestle and a small linen bag. 

A bengal cat comes leaping down from the rafters, landing onto the counter before flicking its tail and turning to survey Viktor with piercing green eyes. Viktor stands rooted to the floor, hardly daring to breathe. He only moves when the cat does; it leaps off the counter and pads away silently through a set of black curtains behind the counter.

Viktor returns to his examination of the room. Minako is taking such a long time to get out here, and he didn’t remember seeing a bengal cat familiar the last time he was here to be checked up by her. He sighs, finger skimming across a deer antler and a rabbit’s foot before coming to rest on a fox pelt. It feels unbelievably soft.

“Hey! I’m sorry it took me so long to get out here!” A voice startles Viktor from his reverie and he turns to see a young dark-haired man at the counter, wiping his hands on his apron. Viktor’s chest does an unpleasant-feeling lurch, and he heaves, caught off-guard by the sudden motion. The young man’s eyes widen, and he scrambles around the counter to catch Viktor just as he stumbles.

The young man smells like petrichor, Viktor muses, before he’s being guided to a stool and instructed to sit. The young man vanishes behind the curtains again, and reappears momentarily with a cup of some sort of hot beverage.

“It’s tea,” he explains, when Viktor clutches the cup and stares at it. 

“…Thank you,” mumbles Viktor, before he sips. It is scalding, but it is tea, indeed.

“You gave me a bit of a fright,” admits the young man. “What can I do for you?”

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Midnight Luxe {Part 4}

Originally posted by nnochu

(Part 1)  (Part 2) (Part 3(Part 5)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: angst, fashion designer Jungkook AU, 

Summary:  Your life was nothing but a drag until you met Jeon Jungkook, the alluringly beautiful fashion design student who asked you to model for his upcoming runway show. Soon you find yourself pulled into his eccentric group of friends and their enticing world of fashion, sex and music, a world that may ultimately leave your heart in pieces.

Inspired by the anime/manga Paradise Kiss ♥

The day after your accidental meeting with Jungkook in the library, your brain was swamped with thoughts of him,  of that beautiful black velvet dress and the dim and dusty ex-bar that the four of them so passionately made clothes in day and night.

You could still feel the way the soft material of the dress felt against your sensitive skin, you could still remember how it had hung so luxuriously off your frame. It clung to you in all the right places giving you a flawless silhouette. 

The dress was all that was present in your mind as you had listened to the monotonous droning of your mother when she had gotten home. You don’t know why she’d been particularly bitter on this occasion, perhaps one of her friends had been boasting about all that their children had achieved. That always seemed to set her off.

You’re throwing your life away.

I pay so much for you to get a good education and you don’t appreciate it at all.

Ungrateful brat.

Those words had so frequently left your mother’s lips that they didn’t even sting anymore. The knife had been so overused, causing the silver blade to become blunt and painless. 

You thought back to the other night when you’d missed your curfew. She hadn’t cared that at least you were home safe after returning home late. In fact, the idea of your mother telling you off because she was worried about your safety seemed like a luxury to you.  But, of course, the only thing she paid mind to were your grades, what your chances of getting into a prestigious university were and whether you would do the family proud or bring them shame.

Then there was Jungkook and his friends. People that stood for the exact opposite of what you’d been taught since you were a child. They seemed so liberated compared to you, they knew what their dreams were and they fought to achieve them every day. The only dreams you had to speak of were the ones that had been pushed upon you.

But when you’d stood in front of that mirror with that flattering new haircut and that gorgeous dress wrapped around your body, you’d felt more yourself than ever. You’d felt powerful, beautiful, and most crucially, you’d felt so free.

That night, despite your mother’s obvious disappointment in you, you’d fallen asleep with a faint smile fixed upon your lips.

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Sorcerer Tutor - Loki x Reader

Originally posted by inlovewithacriminals

Summary: In which (Y/N) is a sorcerer of some sort, and she really needs help controlling her powers. She originally asked Loki, and he declined harshly, but she had other plans. While on a search for the infamous Doctor Strange for help, Loki stops her dead in her tracks.

PROMPT (bolded in the story) BY @oopsprompts

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Word count: 1.3k

{{ Check Out My Masterlist }}

A/N: This was made like legit an hour b4 I watched Thor: Ragnarok, so I can finally post and avoid spoilers!!

Request information is in my bio!

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anonymous asked:

How about sin prompt #9

“9. Going commando” 

This was … probably not exactly what you wanted. I apologize for that. It was amusing to write though. Ao3.

“Do you think Ladybug and Chat Noir wear underwear under their suits?”

Marinette couldn’t get Alya’s question out of her head. It was meant to just be a silly question, Marinette was sure. Alya spent most of her time wondering about the superhero duo and frequently she came up with some pretty strange questions.

But the question about the underwear stayed with her. Mainly because she didn’t know the answer. She had been Ladybug for three years and she had no idea.

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La Vie en Rose

Originally posted by mybabyoppa

Words: 5,008.

Pairing: Yoo Kihyun x Reader.

Genre: Fluff (the kind of fluff that comes from love at first sight in the city of lights).

Summary: “Things you said under the stars and in the grass,” “I dreamt about you last night,” and “Can I kiss you?”

A/N: This is my first ever fic for Monsta x so I hope you all enjoy it! It may or may not also be largely inspired by the lovely song, “La Vie en Rose” by Edith Piaf.

Keep reading


A thing that I like to imagine is Neil and Andrew moving into an apartment on the fifth floor or something (it’s good for cardio, andrew) (shut the fuck up, neil), and they only have one other neighbor on their floor and its a smol 80 year old woman 

- and Andrew and Neil keep to themselves because they’re both anti-human humans (same, bros, so much same)  
- And on their first night there’s a knock on the door, and Andrew and Neil look at each other and are really suspicious because they purposefully didn’t tell any of the foxes that they were moving in together?? because they didn’t want to deal with the looks back and forth and the giggles and the satisfied sighs and the general giddiness of the team
- Andrew doesn’t move so Neil sighs and goes to the door, opens it already braced for confetti to get thrown into his face or for a unified and undoubtedly startling shout of jubilation from the crew
- and he’s v confused when, neck already craned upwards expecting his very tall friends, he has to look down to see his visitor
- It’s a very very old, Andrew-sized woman, with crinkly warm eyes and a face made of 98% wrinkle
- And she’s wearing a yellow cardigan and smiling encouragingly, holding a pan covered in aluminum foil and Neil’s mouth waters immediately because the smell of cheesymeatysaucydelicious lasagna is wafting towards him
- Neil says “hi?” literally as a question because he’s so fucking awkward
- so she introduces herself as Jeong-sook and welcomes them to the apartment. “if you and your cute young man ever need anything don’t be afraid to mosey on over and knock!” and then she leans in conspiratorially and stage whispers with a wink “I take my hearing aids out around 7:30, just so you know” and then thrusts the lasagna into Neil’s hands and cheerily waves goodbye
- Neil stands in the open doorway for a minute, mouth hanging open at the woman’s salacious implication and mentally resigning himself to the fact that now that they’re introduced he won’t be able to slip past her in the hallway without some sort of small talk or genial greeting 
- He’s frozen there, pondering this, for enough time that Andrew comes up behind him and peeks around his shoulder, lifts the corner of the foil to see what it is
- “Grandma seemed nice. What do you think the chances are that she poisoned this?”

- It’s just the two of them so the lasagna lasts for the better part of a week. After its gone, they both open the fridge doors at least once in hopes that a second one will have magically appeared (sorry boys no such luck)
- Eventually, Neil washes the dish and goes to return it. 
- Neil, the babe that he is, doesn’t know that when someone makes you food it’s polite to return their dish filled with food that you’ve made for them
- Andrew raises an eyebrow when Neil comes back from his trip with the red pan still in his hands
- “She told me she wouldn’t take it back unless it had something good in it. She marked pages with her favorites.” He sounds a little dazed as holds up a battered, worn looking dessert cookbook with bright and colorful sticky notes poking out between the pages
- Andrew likes this woman.

- So anyway shortly after moving in Andrew gets a minor injury and has to sit out for six to eight weeks
- Neil is super grateful that this happened after they moved in together because now he can make sure that Andrew is recovering safely and properly
- Andrew spends most of this time at home, reading and playing with the cats and smoking out on the balcony or roof
- Jeong-sook always happens to be out on her own balcony watering her plants or sweeping or some other suspicious activity when he goes out to smoke
- Andrew has an inkling that she’s lonely, and that she sneaks out there when she hears Andrew telling the cats that they have to behave when they go outside
- (does Andrew Minyard talk to his cats? abso-fucking-lutely) 
- Andrew tolerates her chattering and she ignores his silence, continues to ask (unanswered) questions and tell him stories of her kids and grand-kids and late husband 
- This happens almost every single day for the first week and a half
- And then Andrew is just having an all around bad day and he finally snaps.  Neil had left that morning for a week and a half days of flights, press conferences, and friendlies, and Andrew was low-key missing him already. He hadn’t been able to get through the entire hour of physical therapy because the pain had been too excruciating, and then he’d returned home to find that King had thrown up all over the floor. THEN, as he was filling up a bowl with soap and water to CLEAN said throw up, the sink faucet had burst and soaked EVERYTHING.  
- He just wants to sit by himself on his own balcony, at his own house, in his own SILENCE and smoke a fucking cigarette. 
- So he gets out there and the damn thing isn’t even lit yet and Jeong-sook is already going off on one of her variations of how smoking is bad/is going to kill him
- And Andrew is so done. Just so done. He doesn’t care that this woman is in her eighties and could be blown over by a mild wind, he just wants some peace and fucking quiet, so he whips his head over and says something like “grandma if you don’t shut up about it i’m not going to be the only one that this cigarette harms”
- There’s an awful silence and Jeong-sook just stares at him
- and then she’s laughing so hard that she has to grab onto the handrail for support

Long story short, it’s the beginning of a beautiful friendship

+ Jeong-sook had realized that she was going to have to break Andrew to get him to open up to her, so the prattling on and prodding him with a million questions had been calculated and purposeful  
+ Andrew is impressed when she tells him this, so when they part ways and he goes back inside he decides to flip through the cookbook she gave Neil a few weeks back 
+ He finds the page with the most stickies, studies it for a minute, then heads out to the farmers market 
+ son of a bitch whips up a Blackberry Cobbler in an hour and a half and presents it to Joeng-sook like he didn’t just consider hauling her over the railing and throwing her five-stories down 
+ from this point on she gets better at knowing when Andrew needs to be left alone and when he wants company
+ And Andrew learns that she isn’t as fragile as she seems
+ (honestly she’s quiet the whippersnapper) 

Andrew still has at least a month left of recovery, and so they spend a lot of time together

• Andrew fixes things around the house for her when they break 
• They watch their soap opera at the same time every day. Neil comes home to surprise Andrew for lunch one day and Andrew is next door, so Neil texts him asking where he is. Andrew says ‘watching soaps with Jeong-sook’ and it’s so outrageous that Neil laughs and thinks its a joke, replies ‘no but rlly?’
Andrew doesn’t respond because he already answered and good things are happening
• She bakes him his favorite desserts and sometimes they’ll even cook together (though they’re both very particular about the kitchen so this occurs only on days when they’re on their best behavior)
• She always asks about that ‘nice young man of yours’ and tries to give Andrew advice on how to woo Neil (honestly, some of it works)
• they gossip about the other tenants together
• Andrew buys her groceries when she’s having particularly painful days, cleans up around her apartment and brings the cats over to keep her company 
• Andrew hounds the landlord almost to the point of stalking until the elevator gets fixed so that she can actually go places now
•He takes her to doctors appointments and she always bribes him into lunch afterwards 
• I’m JUST going to throw it out there that they’re the same height and both have short blonde hair 
• She tells him about her childhood in South Korea, teaches him Korean words and phrases.  She knows he would be too uncomfortable to outright ask (as Andrew refuses to acknowledge any connection to his birth parents and so doesn’t like to show interest in the related culture/heritage), so she never pushes but plays it off like its all for her
• She was a boxer for most of her life, and so they compare fight stories and watch matches together (she yells at the TV a lot)
• There’s some sort of red-carpet team event and Neil is busy, so Andrew takes Jeong-sook instead. She’s so excited that she makes Andrew take her to the mall so that she can buy a new yellow dress-set. Reporters ask Andrew if this is his grandmother, and Andrew, instead of explaining, just says yes. Andrew has an arm looped around her for support and she’s fucking glowing and the photographer snaps a picture of it and it gets posted online and sports reporters and fans alike are amazed that Andrew Minyard Has a Soft Side. Neil prints out two copies and frames them, puts one in the apartment over the fireplace (figHT ME THEY HAVE A FIREPLACE) and gives one to Jeong-sook, who puts it proudly on the table next to her bed
• Her shitty ass children and grand-children never come around, but when they do Andrew makes a point of going over and glaring at them, making sure that they see how well she’s doing without them 
• When he’s finally allowed to play again she goes to all of his home games and watches the rest on TV. He calls her almost everyday while he’s away to make sure she’s not lonely and that she’s doing okay
• Andrew gives her a Minyard jersey that she wears whenever they go out together, because she thinks its funny when people do a double-take or whisper “that’s andrew and aaron” before they actually get a look at her face
• Neil is still a little unsure around her a lot because he doesn’t have that much experience with older ladies and she’s unpredictable, but she becomes a really important part of Andrew’s life and he - in that andrew way of his - tells Neil that moving into this apartment was one of the best decisions they’ve ever made

Run (Suga x Reader)

You just have a natural tendency to run away from your problems. Including your eon-long crush on Yoongi.

fluff + comedy, 2.6k words, yoongi/reader, college au

You vaguely register that Taehyung is asking you a question about some date he’s planning for his girlfriend, but you can’t be bothered to listen. There are more important and immediate issues at hand for you right now. “Yeah, sure,” you say distractedly, not even knowing what you’ve just agreed to. Yoongi’s just sent you a Tumblr post of cute animals and you’re too busy squealing over the adorableness and also the fact that oh my god Yoongi is texting me.

You’ve only been crushing on him for like two years. Maybe more. He’s also probably the only reason why you still try to remain relevant in the world instead of fully accepting the void with open arms.

“You’re not really paying attention to me, are you?”

You finally look up from your phone. Taehyung’s pouting at you over his own burger; the kid barged into your dorm twenty minutes ago with food and about a million questions. “Uh, sorta? Ish?” You give him a nervous smile. He sighs.

“Whatever, it’s okay. I’ll just ask someone else.”

“I don’t understand why you’re freaking out so much about this though,” you say, picking up your burger. “It’s not like it’s your first date with her anything; you guys have been dating for a few months. It doesn’t have to be all that perfect right?”

Taehyung regards you for a minute. “It’s my one year anniversary with her.”

Okay, so maybe you don’t do a very good job at staying relevant and connected to the social world. You stare at him in utter shock. “Wh-Uh, yeah. I know. O-Of course.”

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smallandsundry  asked:

trimberly harry potter au, kim takes trini home for spring break and tells her parents they're dating. this is news to trini.

“I might as well have placed a full body-bind you.”

Trini jerks out of thought, rubbing her hands on her slacks and looking up at Kim, who’s wearing a look that might be called ‘concerned’ if not for the slight quirk of the right corner of her lips.


“You don’t need to be nervous. My parents are pricks, but they’re not going to say anything uncivilized. To your face,” she adds after a moment’s pause. 

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Conversation with a Lake/ Spring Spirit

*this was several months ago, but I’m just sharing info on her now*

Sorta-kinda disclaimer: I communicated with the spirits mentioned here via thoughts and feelings, not really in words. It’s hard to capture that via text, so I tried to translate it into a more understandable format. I don’t know if that makes sense.

Now to the good stuff!

location: a lake/ spring/ body of water near my house. It was originally meant to be a reservoir, but the diggers hit a natural spring. It’s also full of plants and algae and its levels are highly affected by the rainfall… I don’t know what you call that.

appearance: n/a. I just got feelings.

energy/ feel: BIG. DEEP. OLD. Businesslike, but also with a healing/ nurturing side.

gender: I say “she”, but I have no idea why. so, ehh?

I walked around the lake as I do frequently, just getting attuned to nature. I left pieces of shells and seaglass by the water’s edge as gifts. There were a couple shy “thank you”s as I did so. 

I found a place to sit, and I waited there until some small water spirits came up to me. I greeted them and asked if they had a leader (for lack of a better word).

“Yes, she’s right over there.” the spirits told me in unison, planting the thought in my mind of where to go (a bit further down the shore). They said that she had been waiting for me, and that I should hurry up and talk to her before she got annoyed. 

“You have to meet her halfway.” they said as I got up. (They meant she wanted me to be touching the water, as a sort of symbol of respect. Like standing up when someone enters the room– you put in a little more effort, if that makes sense.)

I headed down and took off my shoes and dipped my toes in the water. It was cool and soft.

“What do you want?” A presence in the water. A pair of discerning eyes on me.

“I… came here to talk?” I tried to sound confident, failing. I tried to look at her, to picture her in my head, but I couldn’t. She may have been stopping me from doing so, or she may not have had an appearance at all.

She didn’t respond.

“And I brought gifts!” I added, slightly desperate. I gently tossed the shiny items into the water. 

I hope you like them.”

“What do you wish to talk about?” she asked curtly. Noticing my offerings, she added, 

“These are nice. Thank you.” She relaxed. I said,

“I wanted to tell you that you have a wonderful place here. The water is beautiful. And the flowers are nice. …I was also wondering if you would be interested in working with me. In a magical sense. I’m a witch.”

“Working with you… how?”

“Well, you could teach me any magical uses for the plants here, or the spring water, if you want. You could lend your strength or energy to a spell I work, for example.”

“I could certainly do that. Though, I am not interested in a close relationship; I’d rather be an acquaintance. When you need me, come find me. Anything else?”

“Ah, yes, one more thing. Is it alright if I take a small jar of the water here? To use for magic?”

“Yes. Also, to thank you for your gifts, I will give you something in return.”

“May I inquire as to what that will be?”

“You will find out in time.”

(In retrospect, I’m pretty sure that her gift was infusing the waters with healing properties– emotional, spiritual, and physical. Or at least opening my mind to use it for that.)

Hold Me Tight - Prologue

Group & Member(s): BTS’ Jungkook 

Genre: Bodyguard!au, angst/fluff

Word Count: 1.4k 

Summary: After a frightening experience, Jungkook vows to make himself your unofficial protector. When his job suddenly becomes much more permanent, he finds the lines between professional and personal feelings blurring.

Jungkook sat on the couch, watching his mother. She was serving tea to the couple that had hired her so many years ago.

Her hands were shaking as she poured the scalding liquid into white china cups, the porcelain clinking as she set it down in front of the distraught woman.

He brought his legs up to his chest, a chill skirting through his small frame. He was inside yet he could still feel the brittle bite of winter that was raging outside. He tugged at his scarf, willing it to warm his body.

“What…what if they hurt her?!” The woman sobbed out. Her husband leaned into her, pressing one palm against her back soothingly. He looked around to the  room full of people - police officers, investigators, and then set his eyes back on his wife.

“They won’t. We’ll get her back” He reassured her, although his voice was shaky and Jungkook could hear the doubt and see it written all over his face.

“It’s been hours since they called…what if they’ve taken her away for good?!” She cried out and at this, one of the investigators stepped in.

“This is how kidnap situations normally work. We expect to hear from them within a few hours. They’ll most likely call to demand some sort of ransom” He explained, his voice stern and absolute as if he’s done this before.

Jungkooks eyes flickered all around the room and then back to his mother. She was busy serving the others, she had no time to feel worried although deep within the pit of her stomach she was grateful that he wasn’t taken, too.

But who would take the housekeepers son?

All they wanted was the daughter of one of the wealthiest couples in the city.

And now they had her.

Jungkook squeezed his palms around his legs, frustration and fear building within him. Of all the people…why you?

He didn’t realize he was crying until he heard a voice call out to him.


He looked up to see her, the wife, your mother. She had always been so kind to him and now she was staring right at him.

“Come here, sweetie” She beckoned and he went, wanting nothing more than to just be held and told everything was going to be alright.

He reached her, and his tears started falling faster, his small voice creaking out

“I’m sorry. I should have done something. I should have ran faster” he cried. She engulfs him, bringing him up onto her lap so that she can hold him tighter.

He let the guilt seep out of him, hoping that if he apologized enough, you would magically appear.

“No, Jungkook you did all you could. You got help right away and I am so proud of you for that” She said, her voice a lot more soothing now that she had to be the strong one.

Your father looks around to the others in the room “This is Jungkook. He was with her when she was taken. They were playing in the yard and their ball bounced over the gate. She went and got it and that’s when she was taken. He chased after the van but then ran back and got help”

The main investigator knelt down, peering at Jungkook who was still clutched in your mother’s arms.

“You did a good job, son. Not many 12 year olds would be that brave” He said, offering him a small smile.

Except Jungkook didn’t feel proud. He felt terrible.

“No. I should have went to get the ball. If I had gone. She would still be here by now” He sobbed, the tears finding him even more.


He hears his mother’s soft voice call out to him. Your mother released him and he travelled from one woman to the next, his feet feeling as if they were made of lead.

She held him, casting a tearful glance to your mother as she took her sons feeble frame and lifted him up to take him to the small house in the back of the yard in which they resided.

He didn’t fight her on it. Instead, he kept mumbling to himself how terrible he felt, unable to get the sound of your shrill screams as you were whisked away out of his head.


5 days later

His mother found him waiting on the porch steps again. She clutched the warm cup of cocoa in her palms and let out a sigh as she opened the large double doors to see him.

“You’re going to catch a cold out here, Jungkook” She said, worry etched in her voice although she knew there was no sense in trying to get him to come inside.

“I don’t care. As long as she’s still gone, I’m going to sit out here and wait for her” He managed, his jaw locked as a shiver skirted through him.

She handed him the mug and he took it, the warmth soothing his nearly frozen skin the instant he felt it through his worn wool gloves.

“Thank you” he murmured, his eyes not leaving the street. He felt her pull at his scarf, tightening it around his neck

“Come inside when it gets dark” She ordered and he nodded, taking a long sip. He winced as the heat came in contact with his tongue, slightly burning it. But it was a welcome sensation.

He was so cold. But this was his way of punishing himself. There was no way you were alright. So he wouldn’t be alright, either.

He finished the cup within two large gulps, his eyelids suddenly feeling heavier as his gaze scanned the yard again.

He could see little in between the iron gate and the stone fence. But he took what he could get.

He stood up, trying to shake away some of the cold when he heard a car approaching. Looking up, he twisted his face in curiosity. His eyes focused on the gate.

His cheeks flared up when he saw the familiar van approach and come to a screeching halt. The door slid open and some figure he couldn’t see threw a body out of it.

He heard a yelp and watched as the van skidded away, leaving tire tracks and you in its wake.

He bolted, running down the long driveway, slamming the button to the gate and he nearly jumped out of his skin while waiting for it move open.

You twitched a bit, struggling against the ties on your wrists and feet. The cold pavement was unforgiving against your skin that was exposed through large tears in your clothes. The fresh air and light of the day was something you hadn’t seen since you were taken. You squinted your eyes as you looked up at the sky, wondering where you were until you saw him.

Tears filled up Jungkooks eyes as he leaned over you

“Y/N! You’re alright!” he exclaims, his eyes running across your body to see if you were seriously hurt.

“Kookie” you whispered to him through the growing sob as you realized that you were back home and safe again.

“I thought you were gone forver” He said, breathless as he reached to bring you into him. You shivered against him and he immediately shed his scarf his jacket, wrapping them around you as best as he could.

He yelled out as loud as he could, hoping that someone in the house would hear him. He tried to get up to lift you, but he was too weak and so he sat there, screaming until he saw the front door creak open.

You called out to him again and he looked down at you, a smile on his face but a warm stream of tears seeped down his flushed cheeks.

He had prayed for this moment the past 5 days. He didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to see you again, to hear your voice, or to hear your laugh. You were his best friend and he would die inside if you ended up hurt or dead.

But now there you were in his arms and he realized as he held you that this was the first time he ever held you like that and while it was something new, it was something that set his heart on fire. 

He clutched you tighter as he heard everyone from inside approaching with an onslaught of cries and exclamations of joy that you were back home somehow.

He leaned in, his warm breath soothing your cheeks as he whispered.  

“You’re safe now. I’m here. I’m never leaving you, from now on I’ll keep you safe, I promise”

Part 1


Sorting (Peter Parker x Reader) Hogwarts AU

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Part one of the Improper series

*Please don’t plagiarize my work, thank you :3* 

Summary: The Sorting is, as of now, one of the most stressful things you have been through in your entire life. It becomes even more problematic when you’re sorted into a house your parents specifically told you not to be in. 

Warnings: Cursing. Wizard racism, ‘cuz that’s a thing. 

Words: 2,038

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You stood in the crowd of first years, legs actually shaking from fear. Most of the kids here were probably feeling the same, equally scared. It wasn’t even real fear, but a crippling sense anxiety that whatever house you will be put into will disappoint your parents.

Don’t be a Hufflepuff. Your father said sternly. Refuse to be in that house if you must. Don’t be a Gryffindor either. They’re a bunch of idiots going into dangerous situations just waiting to be killed. He grew silent for half a minute before continuing. In fact- only accept being in Ravenclaw. Slytherins are just a group of creepy little bastards that practice dark magic. You had frowned and crossed your arms, defending the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors and Slytherins as best you could.

Hufflepuffs are NOT useless morons, Gryffindors are NOT attention hogging idiots and Slytherins are definitely NOT creepy! Those are just stereotypes! And yes, Ravenclaws are very smart, but that doesn’t mean I want to be one! You had said, voice steadily rising from anger. Of course, you had still lost the argument. Parents were meant to be obeyed no matter what, at least that’s what yours said. So now as you were nudged and pushed by your fellow first years as they chatted and laughed, waiting for introduction, you tried to compress your body in a way that would help avoid all the contact, keeping your shoulders at an odd angle so people would get the hint and just stop touching you. Peter appeared by your side, stumbling over another kid’s feet and grabbed the sleeve of your robe to steady himself.

“Klutz.” You whispered in his ear. He stuck out his tongue and squished his face in a teasing expression. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall stepped up and placed the Sorting Hat on the old stool. She tapped her wand on the edge of her podium, signalling for everyone to quiet down. When the talking stopped, she took a long look around the Great Hall, seizing everyone up.

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The New Girl

Request: Maybe you can write like a fic about “being the new girl and Draco can’t keep his eyes off of you” but like she comes from ilvermorny and both are in like 4 or 5th year??<3
Warning(s): probably some swearing idfk


Being an American in a British school sucked.    

But wanna know what made it even more sucky? The fact that you were a witch and you were now going to Hogwarts.     

Well, maybe you shouldn’t be complaining. Hogwarts was supposed to be one of the best wizarding schools in the world, so maybe you should be glad that you switched to Hogwarts from Ilvermorny. Even the house system was kind of the same too, so maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought it was.

     Oh well, you were a complainer.

     Another thing that was that there were a lot of cute boys here, that was another real thing in your life, your social skills were important to you even if you wouldn’t admit it. British boys were just your type.     

You had been sorted into their house Sytherin, you heard some people saying that Slytherin was supposed to be the evil house. You didn’t mind though, you only had two more years here after this anyway. It was your fifth year, you were fifteen, all you had was two years until you were done with your education forever.    

“Hey, check it out. Draco Malfoy is staring right at you,” your friend Astoria said. She was a year younger than you but you had befriended her. One friend was better than no friends, right? The two of you got along anyway.    

"Freaking amazing,” you replied. “Maybe he should take a picture, it lasts longer.” You didn’t care about Draco in the slightest bit, he was a stuck up brat that always had his head up his ass. You looked over at where him and his friends were sitting and he looked away, not before making eye contact for maybe three seconds. His friends looked over at you and then looked at him, patting him on the back.    

Gross, you thought, now I’m a trophy.   

“How could you not like that beautiful boy looking at you?” Astoria asked.    Shaking your head, you gathered your bag and your books, biting the last bite of your cherry pie dessert and stood up.   

 "Whatever, I’m gonna head to the library and get a head start on this paper, I’ll see you later,“ you replied bluntly. 

-  This paper was seemingly more hard than you were willing to admit. And it was just too goddamn boring for you to just power through and get done with as fast as you could. The history of the magic camera, really? How could anyone read these articles without wanting to sleep eternally?    

You needed to do something to pass the time, it would be no fun returning to the dorm room to do nothing. May as well stay out until curfew.    

Duh, it was a library. You could just look around at the books. Sounded like so much fun.   

 As you scanned through the endless arrays of books that filled the many, many bookshelves of the big library, none seemed to catch your eye. You turned the corner and unexpectedly almost was sent toppling down to the floor from crashing into someone. You would’ve landed painfully in a stack of books but the person caught you before you had a chance to fall off your feet. Their hands were still on your arms as you steadied yourself, looking down and closing your eyes to stop your vision from turning around and around.   

 "Are you alright there?” A British accent said through a couple minutes of silence. The boy was taller than you and obviously was a Slytherin, you could see his tie from your view of still looking down. Now you were beginning to catch your breath and you weren’t as dizzy anymore, so you looked up at the person to thank you.   

Lord behold, there stood Draco Malfoy looking down at you with what was that? Concern in his beautiful blue-grey eyes? You pushed his hands off of your arms and brushing yourself off, leaning down to take your bag that had dropped to the floor. But before you could he spoke again, “you didn’t answer my question.”    You stood up abruptly, looking at him straight in the eyes as he smirked a tiny bit. You wanted to smack it off, it made you mad.    

“I’m fine,” you muttered bluntly to the platinum blonde haired boy. “Just a little surprised that Draco Malfoy is asking if I’m alright.”   

 "Why? What have you heard?“ He asked innocently, as if he didn’t know about his reputation around here in this school. You rolled your eyes, leaning back steadily on the bookshelf behind you.    

"Just that you have a pretty bad mean streak, Malfoy,” you replied.    Draco laughed, looking down and back up at you with a half smile on his face, “so you’ve heard.” He almost seemed proud.  

 You looked at the time, seeing it was five minutes until the students needed to be in their common rooms for curfew. You needed to start heading back now if you wanted to make it.    

“Yeah. Shouldn’t you be heading to the common room, Malfoy?” You asked. He flashed the badge on his robes, revealing the prefect crest. Of course. The cheeky bastard.   

 "I think the real question is, shouldn’t you? It would be a shame to see you running in the corridors after curfew. Those are two no-no’s,“ he smirked yet again.    

"I don’t like you. I hope you know this,” you said to the boy, starting to walk out of the row of bookshelves before you heard a clearing of Dracos throat from behind you. You didn’t turn around, you were hoping he was done speaking to you and would leave you alone forever. You didn’t want anything to do with Draco Malfoy.

“I get that. But it would be a shame if you couldn’t find your bag before classes tomorrow, now wouldn’t it?”    

You turned around to see Draco dangling your brown bag in his left hand in front of him. He outstretched his arm in front of both of you and gave it to you as you snatched it from his hand, storming away from the boy. 


The next day you were walking to Potions alone, you were pretty early because you needed to ask Snape about the homework over Christmas break.   

 It was seemingly quiet on the way there until you heard someone walk up next to you and you knew too well who it was.   

“Killed a few puppies today Malfoy?” You asked, a grin appearing on your lips as the male walked beside you. You two were almost walking in sync it made you want to vomit slugs.   

 "Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine today?“ He retorted, causing you to laugh a small bit.    

Draco suddenly walked closer to you, making your skin tingle and goosebumps arrive on your arm. Good thing you were wearing long sleeves or else he would totally see it. Stupid British boys, they were getting you all worked up. It didnt help that you were american either, all the boys wanted to hear your american accent or wanted to ‘ask you about what america was like’. 

“Only when I’m with you, Malfoy,” you muttered. “What is your deal with me anyway? If you want to just try to make a move or something, just do it already.”

The boy beside you chuckled halfheartedly, he leaned his body and began pushing you into another corridor. You had no choice but to just follow what he was doing, it was like something in the back of your mind was telling you to just go with him.

In almost a split second your back was slammed to the wall behind you and Draco’s body was pushed up against yours dangerously close. You could feel his breath on your neck, his body heat radiating onto your making you start to sweat. that wasn’t the only reason you were sweating, though. 

Was it getting hot in that small space or was that just you?

“Is this enough of a move?” Draco asked, his eyes looking into yours, almost as if they were staring right into your very mind, knowing what you were thinking. You couldn’t speak, all you could think about how incredibly close he was and how incredibly hot he was.

And suddenly it was lips against lips, neither of you knew which one of you started it and neither of you didn’t want to be the one to end it. It was searing, hot, and passionate. It would’ve taken all of your breath away if it wasn’t for Draco pulling away for about two seconds before reattaching his lips again. You two were like you were hungry for each other, desperate to get every single last piece before it was gone. 

Draco pulled away and right after, he took your hand and pulled you to a room that seemed to be vacant and said, “do you hate me that much now?” 

And pulled you right into the room to finish what you two had started.

@agentas Don’t be sorry! That’s a really neat idea! I love magic, and this could lead to some real shenanigans. I changed it so that the S/o does end up passing out in Tracer’s and Reaper’s, I hope that’s okay! And, Reaper’s ended up being a bit sad, whoops.


• Is weary at first.
• What if something goes wrong and she can’t blink anymore?
• Has butterflies throughout the process of the spell.
• Can’t sit still either.
• After it’s all said and done they both take off her Crono-accelerator; but, Tracer’s hands are shaky.
• Once it’s fully off, her S/o tries to calm her down before encouraging her to try blinking.
• And she does.
• She squeals in delight and thanks her S/o a thousand times through a bone crushing hug.
• For years, the only times Lena took off her chest piece was to change her clothes, so being without it for so long was wild and freeing.
• There’s so many new kinds of outfits she can wear!!?? She can sleep on her back now??!!
• She’s extremely cuddly now that she doesn’t have a big clunky piece of metal on her chest.
• For a few days she doesn’t tell Winston; she was so grateful to him for basically saving her life and didn’t wanted him to feel like, in the end, his work was for nothing.
• It takes about three weeks for her to notice that her S/o is becoming sluggish.
• It takes one week more for her S/o pass out from exhaustion.
• Tracer FLIPS OUT.
• S/o wakes up a few hours later, feeling better, but still slightly tired.
• Since then, she outright refuses any attempts that her S/o makes to do it again.
• Tracer has always been the kind of person to be grateful for the cards she’s been dealt, and though she misses the freedom sometimes, being able to do what she can do with someone she loves, is enough for her.

• He doesn’t believe his S/o at first.
• It’s not that he doesn’t trust in their abilities; it’s just that, he thinks he’s too far gone to be brought back.
• He goes along anyway, thinking that nothing will happen.
• After S/o performs the spell, the first thing he feels, is uncomfortable.
• He feels how hot his suit really is. He feels thirsty for the first time since he became Reaper.
• S/o quickly picks up a pocket mirror, and Reaper takes off his mask.
• He sees the face of a man who had been dead to him for years.
• He touches his face, forgetting to remove his talons, and he bleeds.
• He bleeds real blood.
• It’s all too overwhelming.
• His body starts to disperse, but he catches himself before completely becoming smoke.
• Once he’s back together, he gags, then throws up.
• They go back to his room, shed his uncomfortable coat and leather, and he rests.
• He rests for a whole day.
• His S/o brings him food and water, apologizing profusely.
• Taking the food and drink greedily, he doesn’t speak.
• They do end up talking, but it’s hours later.
• He confesses that he doesn’t know how to feel being this, about being Gabriel again.
• S/o sleeps in his room that night.
• When he wakes up in the morning, he feels chilly, yet, his skin was still warm to the touch.
• Going to the bathroom again was something that he never thought would feel foreign.
• After his first shower in literal years, he spends an hour just inspecting himself in the mirror.
• He didn’t look like a grotesque monster, he didn’t look dead. He looked and felt soft, alive. He felt like a person.
• He wasn’t a monster, he wasn’t in a state of constant death; he was normal, and that, in itself, was enough to make him emotional.
• Gabriel cried, like a real person, like he used to before he was Reaper; and when his S/o found him, he didn’t shoo them away.
• After that, he decided that he was willing to try to be human again.
• For two weeks, S/o tried to reintroduce Gabriel to living again, and all that it initials.
• Shortly after those two weeks, S/o collapsed while they were taking a walk around the base.
• And, just like that, Gabriel stopped feeling.
• It takes two days for S/o to wake up again, and when they do, they’re in an empty room.
• They sit up and sort their thoughts.
• They call for Gabriel, and he appears, within a minute, fully clothed in his combat gear.
• He hugs them, softly.
• S/o is near tears, telling how sorry they were that they didn’t tell him, that they couldn’t hold on for longer.
• He didn’t speak, he just holds them tighter.
• He knew that in the end, he was meant to be this way. That he was meant to be Reaper, not Gabriel Reyes.

• When they told him that that was something that they could do, he believed them wholly.
• Their magic was some kind of celestial spirit magic, similar to his, so he had full faith in it.
• The first thing he was told to do was put on some clothes (since he technically is naked), then, after, to met them in their spell room.
• He felt giddy and nervous.
• What would he look like? He was fairly young when he “died,” so what would he look like as a man? It was hard to tell due to the scars and metal plating he had now.
• So, there he sat, eyes closed (per request), in his old Blackwatch uniform.
• He felt a tingle, then old, corse fabric all around him.
• Genji opened his eyes and looked at his hands.
• Skin! There was skin!
• He felt his face, it was smooth, soft.
• S/o makes a joke about how good looking he is, and he lets out a deep, hardy laugh, still in a bit of disbelief.
• He runs to the nearest bathroom, and looks in the large mirror.
• He laughs again.
• He looks just like his old man did!
• When his S/o comes in he hugs them tightly, spinning them.
• It was then when he realized that 1) He wasn’t wearing underwear 2) He didn’t own any underwear 3) He really should of washed his uniform before wearing it again.
• There were so many people he wanted to show himself to.
• He made a whole day of it.
• Zenyatta found it to be exciting, Angela found it to be a near miracle, and McCree didn’t even recognize him at first.
• But, there was one person that Genji would not dare show, and that was Hanzo.
• He knew that that encounter would most likely end poorly, so he avoided him as best he could.
• Training was awkward at first; he didn’t really have a place to hold all of his weapons and he didn’t want to make the new Overwatch buy him some.
• It would be a week before Hanzo and Genji had their first meeting with his body like this.
• It was shocking to both of them.
• Hanzo did think that Genji was their father at first glance.
• No words were spoken between them, and Hanzo was the first to turn around and leave.
• Genji immediately felt guilty.
• He went to his S/o asking them to change him back.
• He had excepted himself as a cyborg and had no real problem with going back.
• Genji noticed how much trouble they were having staying awake, and felt even more guilty, thinking their exhaustion was his fault.
• They reassure him that they did Tia of their own accord, and that he shouldn’t feel that way.
• When he’s back to the way he was, the first thing he does is demand that his S/o goes to sleep.


I had fun writing that one! It’s always cool to think about this stuff!

anonymous asked:

Langst prompt ☆The team gets hit by Haggars spell which makes them forget how to speak anything but first language (like Galras are smart and know many) so everyone except maybe Hunk and Lance don't know. Hunk stays quiet and withdrawn but Lance is trying to tell them. Nobody knows Spanish or Hawaiian(?) So they get angry thinking lance is just messing around

Thanks for asking, dear anon! I had some fun with this idea (lol I just realized it’s like 10 pages XD) And I hope you like it! I changed a few things, like making the team a bit angry with Hunk as well (since it makes no sense to me why they would only be angry at Lance), but other than that it’s pretty much the same. This happens after Shiro’s gone (and I didn’t make it clear who the Black paladin is so you can decide XD) I tried to make it nice but I’m not quite satisfied, but I hope you are! 

It should have been an ordinary mission.

It was simple really, when you thought about it. Just get in, get the information Pidge needed, and get out. They didn’t expect for Haggar to appear, druids behind her, white hair crackling with what could only be described as ethereal magic as she snarled at the paladins. They didn’t expect to have a confrontation with her so soon.

But in the end, it seems like everyone made it out okay. Haggar had managed to blast them with some sort of spell, the druids cackling behind her as her eyes glowed in the darkness of her hood, but there seemed to be no lasting effects.

Well, none that Coran could find.

“Step out of the pod, please.” Coran asked, pulling up the finished log of data with one hand, the other smoothly pressing the ejection for the pod. Stumbling out, Lance took a moment to glance tiredly at the orange-haired Altean before resuming his earlier position by Hunk.

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Hi Anon! I know you were feeling super down lately and you wanted a quick Starco thing. I had my friend @elladoodles pick the prompt, which was “Marco braiding and playing with Star’s hair” and “Marco sneaking in to her room in Mewni for wholesome movie time.”


Star peers at him from behind her bedroom door she’s opened only partially to stick her head out of. It’s late and she’s tired between wand practice with her mother and fighting with him. She’s still pretty annoyed – their argument in the back of her head practically all day, thereby making training difficult. She really just wants to sulk in bed for the rest of the night, but he’s standing at her doorway and she really can’t bring herself to tell him to leave.

He smiles down at her, sheepish and nervous, the laptop he’s brought along with him tucked under his arm and a movie in the other. She raises an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

“I…uh,” Marco brings the movie he holds up as a sort of peace offering, looking around at the castle hall to avoid her gaze. “I was thinking, um, maybe if you weren’t busy that – uh,” Star’s head tilts a bit, confused, because he’s not usually so uneasy around her, even after a fight (Though, my crush on him may have changed that a bit, she thinks sadly). He hesitates, taking a deep breath, finally meeting her eyes. “Would you wanna watch a movie with me? It is Friendship Thursday, so maybe you and I could…” He trails off, hopeful, as Star pulls the door open further.  

She takes the DVD from his outstretched hand. “What’s it about?”

“It’s about a dumb guy that screws up and wants to make it up to his best friend.”

Star stares at the cover. “That’s what happens in Captain America?”

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Heyo! It’s been a while, I know, but I’m back now. Got a lot planned this summer - learning to drive, writing, coding projects - but I’m determined to make some serious progress on this fic too don’t you worry. It’s not a huge chapter to return with but hopefully it’s still good. Enjoy, my darlings!

I’m really curious about what’s gonna happen in the next part of Tower!

‘The Tower’ (Part 5)

Part 4

The only sounds to fill the silence after Loki left were the crackle and spit of the fire. In retrospect, burning the man’s property for a little water might not have been the best idea but it was a necessary evil.

You stomped out the burning books and sighed. Such a waste. From the ashes, smoke began to fill the room, making your eyes water, so you retreated to the bedroom. With all other doors closed, the smoke was free to make its escape through the various windows. Meanwhile, you positioned yourself as comfortably as possible on the “mattress” and begged for sleep.

And, boy, did it come…

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october lies [ bill x reader ]

summary: bill confesses his feelings and get’s rejected :(

words: 1 181

a/n: this is written for @superwolfiestar ‘s “Beauty and the Beast Halloween prompt challenge”! this is day 4 and prompt autumn. also, this is partly a request from @weallhaveadestiny :  Hello again! I absolutely love your work :D could you write something where reader has a boyfriend and bill is her best friend. Things start to get complicated when bill finally admits he has REAL feelings for her. Hope this inspires you! Much love xx


Summer died and autumn came in a blink of an eyelash. With a cup of warm drink you find yourself sitting in your apartment with a brand new book in your lap and a warm quilt hugging your shoulders, dotted with roses and daisies and butterflies of various colors. The light tapping of rain draws your attention from the mildly interesting read to the window: bleak skies, harsh wind and cold rain greet you. Together they blur the world into one grey indistinguishable mass. Somehow, it appears eerie to you at first glance and restless you try to find a comfortable position. When you finally do, however, the doorbell rings and you nearly spill the hot drink in surprise. You do not expect any visitors, your phone doesn’t inform of any unseen messages or missed calls and your boyfriend has the key to your flat. So, who is it?

Lazily you roll out and throw the constraints of the blanket onto the couch, approaching the door. The bell chimes again and annoyance spikes in you, “Coming! Jeez…” You finish voiceless, in one swift motion unlocking the main entrance and prying it open, “Oh.” You blink, eyes meeting familiar blue ones, “Hey, Bill.” You finish with a smile, opening the door wider for him to step in. He gives you only a faint grin back, running a cold hand through his wet hair.

Once the two of you are inside you hand him a towel, offer to fix him a drink but he simply refuses, “Feel free to make yourself one if you change your mind.” You tell him, throwing the blanket over your shoulders and jumping on the couch to the spot you sat before he had showed up. You and Bill are friends, good friends, you met when you and your boyfriend had just started dating – Bill is a part of his massive group of friends, and out of all the ‘best mates’ you bothered to remember his only name. “What’s up?” You inquire, finding your mug of warm drink and blowing on its scorching surface.

There is something about Bill. Something odd you have noticed since the first time seeing him. Your boyfriend had said he is a tad antisocial, but you doubt that is true: Bill, just like many of your boyfriend’s friends, loves a good party or a night out with the boys and he’s fairly talkative, does funny faces and cracks jokes at moments that are appropriate and not. No, it is something else. Even looking at him now, he appears strangely distant – he looks at you, but through you, as if there is some kind of interesting object behind your back when in reality it’s only a pillow. Wistful, perhaps that’s how you best would dub him. Brooding, maybe, when he thinks no one can see him.

The rain continues to pour, casting a ghostly glow on yours and his faces, “I wanted to talk to you, (Name).” He states simply, no note of seriousness or playfulness – it almost seems like he isn’t that sure how to feel or react, either – “But” His eyes sharpen, “I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

You would be lying if you said you aren’t intrigued. You lean forward, just a bit, enough to hold eye contact with him and shorten the distance between the two of you, even if there’s a coffee table separating you. You try to lighten the mood, pull a lopsided smile on your face and say, “Dude, come on, you can tell me everything.”

He appreciates your enthusiasm, but something in him refuses to even pretend to be happy. He appears cold and unreachable, almost like a marble statue with those bleak mirages from outside playing on his face. Perhaps he knows that his confession will lose you once and for all; perhaps it’s the sting of past heart-breaks that confine him to the façade of indifference, boredom even.

He looks at you and he sees a person that is treated kindly, though unfairly at times. He looks at you and sees a person that’s not the prettiest in the world, but in his eyes – most definitely. He looks at you and he sees a person that loves someone else, while he, in turn, the shadows of cold autumn rain, harbors love for you and you only.

It takes a moment for him to get his thoughts in line; though he had pondered long and hard what he will say should he chose to say it, it all came out as a jumbled mess of words and misunderstood feelings. In his mind he either spoke too quick or too slow, said little or too much, danced around the subject or was harshly straightforward. He chose to walk to your apartment complex despite the rain, despite the cold weather. He figured that perhaps a splash of water will clear his head, magically offer some sort of a solution. He could not stay quiet any longer. It was impossible to see you with someone else and not even having the courage to say how he feels.

“I like you.” He finally says. The world freezes for a moment; reality melts away from a few vowels and constants, the only thing left is the ever darkening sky, his words and the tickle in your palm. You fail to understand, you try to reboot your brain a couple of times but each is futile. I like you. How? As a person? As a friend? No. the realization slowly dawns to you once you meet the look in his eyes: the cold blue irises portray certain vulnerability. His face doesn’t show anything. “I like you, (Name).” Your name hits a cord in him, as if it is almost painful to say.

Like a dear caught in headlights you shy away, press your back to the pillow and gulp; the lump in your throat forbids you to take a deep breath, “I-I…” You glance down, “I don’t understand…”

“You’re different.” Bill’s voice loses the robotic touch, seeps with genuine emotion. “So different from the rest. He doesn’t know how lucky he is…” He trails off with a faint smile, “I don’t expect anything, if you are to wonder. I just…needed to tell you.”

“Get out.” You whisper with an inhale.


“Get. Out.” You repeat through gritted teeth, shutting your eyes tightly as if that would help delete him entirely, “You can’t just…Can’t just walk in and-and…” There is turmoil inside you, an unruly storm of feelings and confusion and you let it get to your head.

“I understand.” Comes his hollow reply. He doesn’t say goodbye. Simply leaves you to your misery and silence, doesn’t try to change your mind because he knows that he can’t. He thinks you love your boyfriend, not him, never him.

That night, when your boyfriend does finally return to you, you have long calmed and said nothing of his friend’s visit. Said nothing about the confession or how it made you feel. But couldn’t bear to look him in the eye, either.


Stop Lying

Pairing: Newt Scamander X Reader 

Requested: No

A/N: Just something that I thought would be fun to write, thanks for reading!


“You’re fired.”

Your eyes widen, processing what was just said. You blink a couple times and smile, your boss was clearly joking. Oh that funny, funny man…

“Ahahaha, that a good one,” you cry, laughing and patting your boss on the back. He stood there, standing stiff with a firm look on his face. You wipe tears of laughter from your eyes. “You almost got me there, for a second, I-”

“(Y/N).” he says sternly.

You look at him properly and see that his face hasn’t changed, his lips in a solid straight line, unwavering. You finally realize that he wasn’t kidding. A heavy weight drops in your chest.

“Wait, you’re serious?” you start to feel light headed and very, very worried. “Why? What did I do?”

Your boss sighs, shaking his head.

“You are a phenomenally dedicated worker but I don’t think that your, umm, personality matches with the all seriousness of the office.” he pauses before continuing. “You do get your assignments done but not without causing ruckus and chaos around your co-workers. You are happy and bubbly but some would even go so far to call you annoying and uncoordinated. Heck, you were just laughing because you thought I was joking.”

Your heart sinks, did everyone really think of you that way?

“I think…that you have the potential to do amazing things, it’s just that here isn’t where you will find it.”

“But, I need this job. I need the money.” you sniffle, tears dangerously threatening to fall. You could barely get along with the money you earned working for the lower class of the Daily Prophet, what were you going to do now?

“I’m sorry and I wish you good luck in the next chapter of your life.”


You mutter profanities under your breath as you wave your wand around your small office, the last of your belongings floating into a cardboard box.

Hesitantly, you force down the lid of the box, sealing it shut. You look around the now empty office room, the first and only place you’ve ever worked.

“Lighten up,” you murmur to yourself as you pick up the box to leave the room for the final time. “I’m an optimistic person. Maybe the boss is right, maybe this is a new start. I will find a new job.”

On the way out of the building you spit a board covered in random posters and advertisements. You eyes scan them quickly, there were no new job opportunities at all.
Losing hope for the day you start to walk away when something catches your eye.

The corner of a small blue poster was peeping out underneath a couple of the larger ones. You gently dig past them until you get to the one you wanted.

“Help wanted.” you read, starting to get excited. “Magizoologist in need of assistance.”

You frown, knitting your eyebrows together. A Magizoologist was a person who worked with creatures. Magical creatures. You shudder.
You were never fond of animals and you weren’t sure if a job revolving around them would be ideal for you. But you had no choice, this was the only option for now.
You jot down the important information and decide that you would go for an interview the following day.


You nervously straighten your shirt, waiting on a bench outside of an office in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

“Come in.” a friendly voice beckons from within.

You take a deep breathe and enter.

Sitting in the middle of the office was a young man, probably around your age, with curly, messy red-brown hair.

“Hello!” you say cheerfully. “I’m here for the opportunity to be an assistant, I hope that I am not too late.”

“No, not at all! Please, sit.” the man answers with a cute lopsided smile. You sit and take a closer look at him, really admiring his features. Freckles decorated his face and his green eyes shone with curiosity. He was good looking. Very good looking. You mentally traced the curve of his beautiful cheek bones, defined jaw line…

“I’m sorry Miss, is there something on my face?” he awkwardly clears his throat, signalling that things were getting weird.

“No!” you say a little too loudly, snapping out of your trance and sitting up straighter, fighting hard to cool down the blush that was threatening to bloom.

“Alrighty then. I’m Newt Scamander, and you are?” he asks, going to straight to business.

“(Y/N) (L/N).”

“So tell me (Y/N), have you had any experience with magical creatures?”

You twiddle your fingers, fidgeting in your seat. No, you hadn’t and to be frank, you never wanted to. But this was your only shot, you had to get this job.
Hesitantly, you nod, trying to look as calm and confident as possible.

Newt doesn’t question anything and continues.

“Have you worked with Thunderbirds, Erumpents, Occamies…”

He goes on and your head swirls with information and images of these creatures, each sounding even worse and more horrific than the last.

Again, you nod, becoming more uncomfortable with lying with each passing second.

“Congratulations, you’re hired! We will get started right away!” he seemed excited, and you smiled, trying not to let it fall or waver.

You’d be fine right? Besides, they were just simple lies?…


So far your experience had been great, you and Newt had grown very close. You never really had to go near any of the creatures and mostly took notes for Newt. Although you did scream a couple of times when the Swooping Evil came flying out of no where, thankfully, Newt wasn’t around at the time. On the bright side you hadn’t died yet. You had also grown accustomed to the creatures and started to feel a connection to them…sort of. However, you still not so subtly refused to go near them. Newt definitely didn’t suspect anything…yet. Hopefully.

Today was like no other, inside of Newt’s suitcase with your notebook, jotting down everything Newt was muttering under his breath about Mooncalves. Your hand started to cramp from all the writing and you accidentally dropped your pencil.

“Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been working hard, you deserve it.” he drops down to pick up his pencil and you can’t help but admire how his hair flawlessly fell over his face.

Oh yeah, you were crushing hard on your boss that was basically the same age as you. Not weird at all.

“Is there something on my face again, (Y/N)?” he asks, you were probably gazing at his beautiful face again. You become stiff, preparing to die of embarrassment, this happened wayyyyyy too often.

“Damn, it! Snap out of it!” you mutter quietly to yourself.

“Excuse me?” he blinks a couple of times, a small smile appearing on his face.

“Umm, nothing! I’ll, uh, be on my way!” you let out super quickly, your words stumbling over each other, making it sound as though you were saying one super long word.

He chuckles as he watched your stiff figure shuffle away.

“Oh, (Y/N)!” he calls urgently, making your heart flutter. You turn to face him, he wasn’t looking at you in the eyes. Maybe he was about to confess his feelings and prove that the feelings you had were mutual? TAKE THAT HATERS.

“Can you feed Frank afterwards? He’s feelings cranky with me and I think that some other social contact would be good for him.”

You panic, trying not to hyperventilate right there and then.
Crap, you were afraid. Crap, you didn’t know how. Crap, you were screwed. Crap, you were going to die. Crap, you couldn’t refuse. Crap, this is your job. Crap, Newt is so attractive.

Instead of telling him the truth, you nod.

“Of course!…”


“Hi there Frank…” you say, gently approaching the magnificent beast with a bucket full of its favourite food; you had no idea what it was, and you’d like it to stay that way.

“I’ve come with food?…”
Why that came out as a question, you didn’t know but that was the least of your worries, you were shaking uncontrollably, the bucket threatening to fall from weakening fingers.

He squawks, his feathered head quickly approaching you. You shriek loudly, the bucket falling with a clang and you following close after. You heart pouncing harshly against your rib cage.

Frank looks puzzled at you but seems to shrug, ruffling his feathered wings before swooping down to munch on his fallen meal.

You slowly scoot away, still lying pathetically on the ground.

You hear light laughter behind you and your face flushes as you scramble back up on to your feet.

“He was just trying to nuzzle you.” Newt says, still chuckling softly. You huff and he strides to your side with your long legs, giving you a quick hug. You savour it, probably looking like an idiot, but you didn’t care, your heart was still pounding because if Frank.

“(Y/N), you don’t have experience with creatures, do you?” he finally says, breaking the silence.

“Haha, what gave you that idea? I totally am…” you say sheepishly.

“Stop lying,” he says sternly, yet slightly amused.

“Okay fine. Am I fired now?…”

“No, I would never do that to you…but I’d like an explanation.”

So you tell him and he forgives you and understood why you did it. He offered to train you himself and you accepted. You two would be spending even more time with each other and neither if you were going to complain about that.