it's very small and new and not all there yet you can still sort of see through it

Through Their Eyes - One Shot

Happy Valentine’s Day to my lovely readers with a Happy Birthday one shot to him that is almost exactly two weeks late! Inspiration and time are funny that way – always against you, you know? ;) Enjoy, loves. xx

Anybody would have to be blind not to see it, and his mother thinks he is and you are, too.

 Her beautiful boy has always been a bit oblivious. He’s incredibly smart, she’s proud to say, and very astute, but sometimes – only sometimes – he can’t see past the end of his own nose.

 He’s in love with you. She’s suspected it for awhile, but tonight it’s painfully plain to see. Her son, her youngest, her baby, loves you.

It’s more than a passing fancy, because he would have stopped lighting up in the same way when you walked into any room if it was as simple as that. And it’s more than the love that comes with strong friendship, because if it stopped there he wouldn’t look at you the way those thousands of adoring fans look at him – like he just wants one chance, just the one, to show you how good he’d be for you and to you.

 None of his friends see it – they’re all too far gone into the alcohol and guffawing as they have go after go at him in the name of good fun, and he just laughs along with them with crinkle-eyed, dimply humor.

 You don’t see it either. You don’t see it when he looks up at you with adoration that shines, unbridled, thanks to the liquor in his veins.

 You don’t even see it when he leans his head against the gentle curve of your hip while you stand next to him, one eye drooping just a little more than the other as he listens to whatever story is being told before giving in and letting them fall shut as you rake your fingers through his thick curls and massage his scalp. He does love a good pet, but he doesn’t reward all the people who comply by turning his head inwards and giving a little kiss to the hip that’s been his pillow.

And her boy – her birthday boy – he doesn’t see it at all.

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some gorillaz headcanons
  • 2d was a teenager during the 90s which means that he knows all the lyrics to all the quintessential 90s songs. when noodle was little they would blast backstreet boys and nsync throughout kong studios and dramatically sing along and jump on the couch pretending to put on concerts. it helped get noodle used to performing and also taught her how to pronounce words in english. even now as an adult noodle will start playing i want it that way on the home speaker system and 2d will show up in the doorway twenty seconds later dramatically screeching “TELL ME WHY AIN’T NOTHING BUT A HEAAAARTACHE.” they both go OFF and have accidentally broken multiple items because they were jamming out so hard.
  • murdoc is half mexican from his mom’s side. it’s part of the reason he went to mexico after phase 1 and why he can speak spanish. he learned rudimentary spanish from visiting his mom in the sanatorium as a little kid, but since he couldn’t visit her much and she died when he was about 11 or 12 he had to teach himself the rest of the language in his 20s.

more under the cut!

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Suck it, ya filthy, fake Redcoat!

LTL, FTP and all that Jazz. Compared to some of the stories here mine is fairly tame, but considering my age at the time, the effort I had put into the whole affair and the resulting payoff, I would consider this pro enough to fit in here.

I’ve lived in Germany almost my entire life, yet through a twist of fate, I grew up learning the English language as a native speaker, since my father emigrated to Germany from the USA. As such, I’ve always had an American accent when speaking English and I’ve never met anyone who thought they felt the need to complain about it. Every time a teacher asked why I spoke English so well I replied that I am a US National by birth because my Father is from the US. All my teachers seemed quite impressed, except this one Hag, half a lifetime ago… If there ever was an award for creepy Anglophilia, she’d be neck deep in honors and certificates. Instead of encouraging me to speak more so that the other students could learn proper pronunciation from an actual native speaker, like many other English teachers at my school back then did, this woman thought it necessary to berate me for “speaking in such a horrible and filthy manner” and “cure [me] of that insufferable atrocity of an accent.” Mind you, these were actual quotes from this woman. My dad was no help at all. He was fairly ignorant about me being bullied by one of my own teachers, and even went so far as to yell at me to “suck it up and respect my elders”. So, yeah, I stuck it up. It didn’t help that I also wrote in American English (you know, color instead of color, tire instead of tyre, cookie instead of biscuit, that sort of thing) and the Hag had the audacity to write these “mistakes” up as double errors, meaning I got twice points deducted for spelling errors that weren’t even actual errors! I was so fed up with this woman and it wasn’t even two months into the school year.

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Gold Digger

Reader x Elijah Mikaelson

(NOT MY GIF)

*requested

Imagine: You are in a long-term relationship with Elijah Mikaelson and is very happy with it. One day, when he requests you to go over to his house to meet oficially his siblings, Hayley accuses you to being with him only for his money and power, which leaves you heartbroken.

tagging: @chocolatemonkeyrainbows :)

Word Count: 3172


Back then, when you were nothing but a naive teenager, you used to dream about true love, wondering every single night, whilst watching the stars, how it would feel like once you met him. Would you recognise the one right away? Or it would take some time for you to realise it? Man, you were one hell of a weird kid.

However, your questions would only be entirely answered years later, in the exactly moment Elijah Mikaelson walked into your life.

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Parchment // Slytherin Yoongi x Ravenclaw Reader

he-men-ah asked:
Hi~ hi~ Even though it’s almost 1 am and I should be sleeping 😅 I was scrolling along and saw the post you reblogged with the members in their hogwarts house and I got an scenario idea~ Can you write scenario with Slytherin Yoongi and the reader in Ravenclaw pleeease~??? //Totally not asking specifically because I’m a Ravenclaw psshhhh no way~ 😂😅 Lmao~ Thanks ♡♡♡♡♡

I got sooooo carried away with this one because I freaking LOVED writing it. Honestly, this mash-up was so funnnn ♡ It ended up super long haha so sorry about that. I JUST GOT A TAD EXCITED. It also gets a teensy bit smutty at one point but dw it’s not much. But this was so fun!! I hope you like it!!

Also, I’m gonna dedicate this one to not only you, but also my girl Madelyn of @jinssmile​ because it was her birthday last week and she’s a Yoongi fan too so YO HAPPY BIRTHDAY MADELYN. ENJOY.

Genre: Fluff, semi-smut, Harry Potter AU
Slytherin Yoongi x Ravenclaw Reader
Length: 8.1k

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Harry Potter. None of the settings are mine and all belong to JK Rowling. Gotta say it.


You smoothed down your robes, watching the countryside zip past the small windows of the Hogwarts Express. You were only 11 years old, excited and feeling prepared for your first year at the amazing “school of witchcraft and wizardry”. It had been a dream come true when your letter had arrived. Your parents were just regular people, or “muggles” as all the other witches and wizards called them, so they had thought that the letter was a prank or something when you’d first received it. But as you’d pulled out the piece of parchment and read what was written in the curly green inked handwriting, you knew that it was no joke. It felt too right and explained too much.

Being Muggleborn, you knew absolutely no one on this train. It was the one thing you were worried about at this school. You knew that you would be fine with keeping your grades up, and you weren’t even scared of getting lost, but you’d only found out you were a witch less than two months ago. How were you going to fit in here? The others would’ve surely been raised to expect a life at this school since they were tiny, so would they really accept someone as clueless as you? You’d read up on as much as you could about the school and about magic before you came here so you hoped that you knew enough to at least appear like you were well-versed in all things magical.

Despite all of this you were determined to approach this new experience with zero concerns. You were confident it would turn out okay, so you decided to focus on how amazing all this was. You couldn’t wait to get there, but there was still a long way to go before you reached Hogwarts – you’d really only just left the station. You were fairly sure that you were allowed to have stayed in your normal clothing for a while longer but you were too excited to put on your new robes to wait. You eyed the logo on the front of your robes happily, a small smile appearing on your lips. You were really going. It wasn’t all some crazy dream.

The doors to your carriage opened suddenly and you jumped, looking up to see who it was. There was an Asian boy standing in the opening, a lazy smile on his face. From this distance both his hair and his eyes looked jet black, even darker than his robes. His skin looked white as sugar in stark contrast to the rest of these dark colours. He looked almost like some kind of demon, but you couldn’t recall ever reading about them in any of your textbooks. You made a mental note to look that up once you reached the school and had access to the library. You saw that under his robes his body was slim but at this young age there was still a little leftover baby fat in his cheeks, making him look far less intimidating than you’d originally thought. Those black eyes watched you from where he stood, one hand still resting on the door to the carriage.

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Flashes (Part 3)

Summary: Soulmate AU. “The fault, dear Brutus is not in our stars, / But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” - William Shakespeare (Julius Caesar)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,012

Warnings: language, fluff, angst, it’s actually kind of optimistic???

A/N: Well, I did it…at least I tried. The lovely @minervaem challenged me (sort of) to do an angsty story. I’m warning you now, it’s not gonna be pretty.

Reader has her first flash, and stumbles upon some intriguing information…

Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Originally posted by rainy--blog

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Now to Forever (M)

A one-shot based on a request from @dailydoseofdia. Aaaa I’m so nervous you’re an amazing writer I hope I didn’t do too badly! *hides under a rock and refuses to come out*

Moodboard

Jungkook x Reader x Yoongi [ft. Taehyung, Jin, Jimin & 2NE1]

Genre: Ex-boyfriend Jungkook, fluff and juuuuust a wee bit of angst

Word count: 9,624 words


You scroll through your emails, feeling excited. It isn’t the boring missives that uplift your mood, but the anticipation of something new. After years of hard work, starting as a department head all the way up to being a managing director of family-owned hotel chains, you’ve proven yourself a capable leader. More importantly, you have amassed a sum of funds in addition to your parents’ approval and support to start a business of your own. Numerous discussion and planning have all led to this moment.

“Your two o'clock appointment is here, Miss.”

“Show him in, Yun Hee,” you tell your assistant.

The phone receiver barely hits its cradle when a few polite knocks sound at your door. “Come in,” you beckon as you hurriedly finish replying to an email. “Excuse me for a minute while I finish this.”

“No problem,” a warm,  familiar voice answers you.

Your fingers freeze a few millimeters above the keyboard, but your head swivels towards the owner of the voice. For a fraction of a second, you’re afraid that after so long, you’ve started to hear his voice out of nowhere again, even though he is not in your life anymore. However, this time your ears are not deceiving you, nor are you imagining things.

“Jungkook?”

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Phone Call

Member: J.Seph || K.A.R.D

Genre: Romance, Smut

Short Summary: He was way too far away from her, but his needs were a must- they settled for a medium.

A/N: This gave me a chance to know that I now stan another Kim TaeHyung ;-)

Words: 1k

“This is going to be horribly weird, I hope you know.” She began with a sigh as she lay on her side, phone to her ear.

“I only suggested it, you were the one to agree.” His gentle voice reminded you with a chuckle. “Though… I literally have no idea how to start this.”

Quietly, her sigh made her tremble from the cold atmosphere in the room. “Ugh… So say… I am currently laying in my bed…” her voice, just like her cold body, was shivering with the uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment.

“Yes?” he quietly urged her on, waiting for more details.

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SnK Chapter 93 Poll Results

The chapter 93 poll closed with 1,143 entries. Can I start with a wow? With so many responses, this is going to be a long one.

RATE THE CHAPTER
(1024 responses)

The Marley Files continue to grow on us. 77% of respondents rated Chapter 93 very highly.

Best chapter I’ve ever reviewed in a while. I hope next month will deliver heavy stuff.

My Jaeger reunion hype was amplified by 3000 eggplants after this chapter

Loved the diversity in the new characters. Riener is so torn mentally & emotionally. I believe few more pages on the warrior are still needed before getting back to Paradise. I sense a glimpse of hope in escaping a doomed end. somebody will live & achieve freedom. who? hard to tell.

Everybody has different opinions about the plot, but I do not think anyone can argue about the art. Love this manga. Want to see Levi again!

I never imagined I could love these characters even more. Now I do. Bravo Isayama-sensei, I never felt so hyped for this chapter for the longest time!

Stop trying to make these new kids happen, Isayama. It’s not going to happen.

My interest in the manga is reaching an all time low with this focus on Marley. And it looks like we’ll still be there next month. I’m so done.

I haven’t minded these recent chapters, but I haven’t felt like I enjoyed them since its a virtually unknown cast. I did however enjoy chapter 93!

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anonymous asked:

I cannot stop day dreaming about Olivers bday party. It prob going to be at the loft. Of course everyone else will leave first, 'giving them the room. When he finally goes to leave I NEED Felicity to get up on her tip toes and kiss him on the cheek whispering "Happy Birthday" and then I just want him to say fuck it and kiss her. REALLY kiss her. And scoop her up and go upstairs. And at some point, whisper the words, "I want to come home." Then I can die happy. Or just be dead. Whichever.

Anon, you beautiful soul!! Way to go guessing the loft! I don’t know what I did to deserve this, because I NEVER get messages like this one, so thank you. Ugh, my heart is so very full from the picture you’ve given me that I ended up writing a *short* spec fic about it. (Based on recent spoilers, I know most of what I have written here ain’t gonna happen; but alas, I started this fic last month and wanted to finish it anyway. My Oliver deserves a happy spec fic on his birthday.)

Here’s my new favorite photo to set the stage. LOOK HOW HAPPY THEY ARE. I’M FINE.

xxx

“NO!”

Felicity’s cry echoes across the expanse of the loft, her words bouncing off its high ceilings, sending all party guests into an unprecedented silence.

Oliver stills, every fiber in his body already tightening, already on edge, ready to pounce to protect her if need be– He relaxes a little when he realizes Felicity is not, in fact, reacting to any sort of danger. Instead, she stares with wide, horrified eyes at the knife he’s still gripping, hovering over the direct center of the cake. The cake he was just instructed to cut himself. The cake covered in exactly 32 little plastic arrows, all pointing towards the center to form a giant O.

Yet he knows that look means trouble of a different sort…a Felicity-sized and always important portion of concern.

“What’s wrong?”

Oliver quickly makes eye contact with the rest of the group, just in case anyone’s picked up on something he’s missed. But everyone appears just as confused as he is by Felicity’s new state of peril.

Felicity visibly swallows as she slowly tiptoes towards him. She licks her lips once, hesitating before meeting his gaze; and he can practically see the wheels spinning behind her eyes, as she calms herself down and tries to explain.

“I just mean…you should have the corner piece, you know? Because it has more frosting. You like frosting, right? Everyone loves frosting.”

“Felicity…” He has no idea what she’s hiding, but he can tell something’s off.

“You know what? I’ll just cut the cake. I mean, you already do so much, the least I can do is cut you a piece of cake.” She’s taking the knife from him and already cutting off a corner piece, before he can even try to stop her, all the while muttering something to herself. He leans in a bit to try to hear, but Curtis and Quentin have resumed their conversation across the table, so all he catches is something along the lines of “What was I thinking…”

God, if only he knew. He’s spent years learning to understand what Felicity Smoak says, let alone trying to make sense of what could possibly be going on inside that beautiful head of hers.

“There. That is your piece.”

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A Fool of Mine [2]

Originally posted by luuuuuke-evans

Title: A Fool of Mine
Chapter: 2/?
Pairing: Gaston/Reader
Words: 1,987
Summary: [ Your next few days in town are spent exploring…and being chatted up by the wonderful captain. You take a visit to the tavern one night, and get quite a surprise. ]
A/N: This was honestly one of the most fun things I’ve written in a while, Gaston is just such a fun song hhh 
Part 1 can be found here
Part 3 can be found here


Over the course of the next few days, you’d managed to pick up on the town’s clockwork routine. You slowly became a part of it, going into town each morning, buying some bread or spices for the day, then relaxing in some secluded area and reading.

Today, however, you chose the well where the townsfolk (or rather, women) could be found washing clothes. There was a surprising lack of people there yet, but perhaps it was too early.

Across the village, the man who had attempted to flatter you stood with yet another fresh bouquet of flowers. This was going to be the day. After so long, today was going to be the day Belle would agree to marry him, he knew it.

You turned the page of your borrowed book, eager to continue.

‘The day that man allows true love to appear, those things which are well made will fall into confusion and will overturn everything we believe to be right and true.’

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Laundry - warren x reader

Word count: 1k
Warnings: none

Request: ‘so imagine that warren has a problem with clothes getting too stretched out because   of his wings and clothes just not fitting properly and imagine that the mansion has a community laundry and dry cleaner system with everyone’s names written on the tags of their clothes ,and if someone needs something fixed or altered that’s we’re they go. Now, the reader(who is really quiet and shy) is then only one who manages it because everyone else is too busy to do laundry and Charles asks if someone could help and since she has alot of free time she volunteered. One day she notices that all of Warren’s shirts are either ripped or stretched out from trying to get his wings in them and so she buys him a couple of new shirts that he would like and that would fit him and altered it so that there are slits in the back where his wings would be with snap buttons at the bottom so he can slip his wings in without stretching the shirt and whenever he gets his shirts back he’s just like “oh my God who did this, who cared about me enough to go out of their way like this” and he thinks to himself he has to find this person. So he goes to the laundry room and waits like all day because he really wants to find this person, and when the reader finally walks in they just have a really fluffy moment.’ By @brianabrown4878
______
It was laundry day and of course, everyone in the school had to be busy with something. Kurt was catching up in his classes, warren was training (probably just hiding from everyone to be honest), jean was practicing her powers again and almost everyone had some kind of excuse. Y/N was busy packing her laundry down to the laundry room and nearly tripped over some of the other students clothes. She stumbled, catching herself!f and sighed, someone had to do this, and she knew the clothes had their names tagged on them. She wasn’t much of a talker or anything, but found herself sorting everyone’s clothes into piles to do the laundry, since she hasn’t had anything else to do.
  Y/N spent most of the day doing laundry, she had everyone’s clothes put in the baskets and paused when she seen a very worn out Def Leppard T-shirt that belonged to the one and only archangel, warren Worthington III. A small frown appeared on her face, going through his clothes only to notice that almost every shirt was this way. She shook her head, sitting his clothes to the side before fixing her hair and distributing the others clothes back to their rightful owners. She had to do something, she was that kind of person, and her crush on warren didn’t seem to help the fact that she was now walking into Xavier’s office to ask him if she could work the laundry from then on. For Warren, of course. “Sir?” She asked softly as he looked up from the book he was reading, “yes?” He asked, he didn’t read her mind so he didn’t technically know what she wanted. “Today I went to the laundry room and-” “its messy, I’m sorry” Xavier frowned. “-that’s not the problem, but I washed everyone’s clothes and I think I’d like to work the laundry from now on and I need to go get…supplies, do I have permission to leave?” She rocked on the balls of her feet, seeing she was wearing sandals. He nodded.
_____
  Y/N found herself walking around the mall, checking out the clothes and of course, getting many band t-shirts in Warren’s sizes. Of course she didn’t have to do it, but she did. After she gathered supplies, she headed back to the school to work on fixing his new clothes. She contemplated how it would work, then it came to her mind that his favorite leather jacket had slits in the back! She worked with the clothes, fixing them so they would fit the angel without having to be stretched out. Then, she wrote his name on the tags.
  It was later on that night and she felt extremely tired, but wandered down the halls with the laundry basket of his old clothes to sit them away and replacing them with the new clothes…

  Warren finally had enough time to get his laundry done, he was walking down the halls shirtless, signing to himself. He walked inside, wondering where his old clothes were, only to find the new t-shirts with his name on them. His heart almost stopped, someone actually cared to do this for the angel? Why him? He wasn’t exactly a nice person, he didn’t think he deserved to be treated nicely, but someone had taken time to shop and fix these shirts for… For his wings! Warren’s eyes watered, which was a sight you’d probably never see. He picked up one of the shirts, Metallica. Whoever this person was, must have really thought about the clothes because they were all great and probably expensive too. He looked down for a moment, sitting down and sighing heavily. 'I have to find them, this person needs a huge ass thank you, but they better not tell anyone…’ He thought to himself, deciding to wait for this mystery person.
   Y/N woke up some time later, knowing there was to be more laundry done on the weekend more than during the actual week and this time, she even had to do some bedsheets too. Rubbing her eyes, she got up and took a shower, letting the hot water cascade down her body was merely relaxing. She washed off, taking the time to do her morning routine and dried her hair, taking her dirty laundry and putting it in a basket. She hoped that the students hadn’t piled up a lot of things as she slipped on some sweatpants and sandals, almost forgetting to grab her things and it took a little while for her to her things down to the room, struggling to twist the knob…
  Warren wasn’t really paying attention to a lot of things but as soon as the doorknob started to turn, his breath caught in his throat in anticipation. What if it was Xavier? Or even Hank? Should he be this nervous about it? He didn’t know but all of his feelings were changed when he seen the color of Y/N’s hair. He side smiled and got off of the washing machine, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as she pushed the door open, not yet seeing him there. Was it her?
  Y/N lifted her things to walk inside, her eyes falling on Warren who was reading a very unreadable expression at the moment, but seemed to be a little upset? She looked down, slowly putting the basket down. “I… I’m sorry, I just really wanted to be nice, you’ve been nice to me and you’ve not picked on me like other people usually do because I’m quiet and-” she looked up,swallowing hard. Warrens eyes were brighter, a small smile across his lips. “Me? Mad? Actually, I just… Got a little surprised that someone would care for me enough to do that, and quite frankly, darling, you are absolutely wonderful. I need to repay you” he stated as he walked closer, only clad in his jeans and boots. He smiled softly at her, “how can I ever repay you?” He asked softly, watching her expression changed to surprised. “Well… I’ve always wondered what it looks like from the rafters…” She trialed off, earning a small chuckle from the angel, who wrapped his arms around her. “How about this… I fly you around but I still don’t think that’s enough repay, so I guess I’ll be sticking around you linger than before, maybe we can become… Closer?” He suggested. To that, she nodded, wondering what exactly was going to happen.

A/N; let me know what you think??

The Boss’s Daughter

* John Laurens x Reader

* Hamiltime

* Requested by: @cheyenne-dunn-universe

* Request: I was wondering if you could do a John Laurens imagine where you are Washington’s daughter and you rush into one of his meetings without knowing he was in one and you meet John. Then you meet again at the winter ball and it’s like helpless.

A/N: Done! And now proof read. Thanks to everyone who liked it and told me it was good. It was shit. Like the grammatical errors made me cringe. But its all better now! It’s easier to enjoy!

Word Count: 3, 470

~~

You strolled through your house. You needed to see your father for a moment but you really should’ve thought about things for a minute. There was a war on and your dad was the general. He’d have very important meetings all the time. However, you waltzed right to the door of his office and barged in without even knocking. You froze in the doorway when you realized your father was talking with two young soldiers. “Oh. Sorry.” You squeaked. You knew you should back out of the room but you were frozen in embarrassment.

“Uh, Washington? Who’s that?” The shorter of the two men asked.

“Is that important Hamilton?” He asked the man. Hamilton. Of course. Alexander Hamilton. You heard your dad talk about him a lot. Hell, your dad praised the man as almost as much as he did you. He spoke of him like the son he never had.

“Well, I guess its not important. But Alexander and I are very curious Sir.” The other man spoke up. He was just staring at you with a strange look on his face.

“Seriously, Laurens?” Your dad asked him. John Laurens. Another name you heard a lot. According to your father he was a young soldier with a lot of potential. You thought you can add extremely attractive to the description. He had freckles spotting his face and his hair was full of tight curls. You could only tell because a few strands had fallen free of the pony tail he was sporting.

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bela-lugosis-corpse  asked:

I've been thinking about this for a while, but how effective is full plate armour? Was it actually a good way to defend yourself?

Short Answer: Yes. 

Here’s a general rule: People in the past were ignorant about a lot of things, but they weren’t stupid. If they used something, chances are they had a good reason. There are exceptions, but plate armor is not one of them. 

Long Answer: 

For a type of armor, no matter what it is, to be considered effective, it has to meet three criteria. 

The three criteria are: Economic Efficiency, Protectiveness, and Mobility.

1. Is it Economically Efficient? 

Because of the nature of society in the Middle Ages, what with equipment being largely bring-it-yourself when it came to anybody besides arrowfodder infantry who’d been given one week of training, economic efficiency was a problem for the first couple of decades after plate armor was introduced in France in the 1360s. It wasn’t easy to make, and there wasn’t really a ‘science’ to it yet, so only the wealthiest of French soldiers, meaning knights and above, had it; unless of course somebody stole it off a dead French noble. The Hundred Years War was in full swing at the time, and the French were losing badly to the English and their powerful longbows, so there were plenty of dead French nobles and knights to go around. That plate armor was not very economically efficient for you unless you were a rich man, though, it also was not exactly what we would call “full” plate armor. 

Above: Early plate armor, like that used by knights and above during the later 1300s and early 1400s. 

Above: Two examples of what most people mean when they say “full” plate armor, which would have been seen in the mid to late 1400s and early 1500s.

Disclaimer: These are just examples. No two suits of armor were the same because they weren’t mass-produced, and there was not really a year when everybody decided to all switch to the next evolution of plate armor. In fact it would not be improbably to see all three of these suits on the same battlefield, as expensive armor was often passed down from father to son and used for many decades. 

Just like any new technology, however, as production methods improved, the product got cheaper. 

Above: The Battle of Barnet, 1471, in which everybody had plate armor because it’s affordable by then. 

So if we’re talking about the mid to late 1400s, which is when our modern image of the “knight in shining armor” sort of comes from, then yes, “full” plate armor is economically efficient. It still wasn’t cheap, but neither are modern day cars, and yet they’re everywhere. Also similar to cars, plate armor is durable enough to be passed down in families for generations, and after the Hundred Years War ended in 1453, there was a lot of used military equipment on sale for cheap. 

2. Is it Protective? 

This is a hard question to answer, particularly because no armor is perfect, and as soon as a new, seemingly ‘perfect’ type of armor appears, weapons and techniques adapt to kill the wearer anyway, and the other way around. Early plate armor was invented as a response to the extreme armor-piercing ability of the English longbow, the armor-piercing ability of a new kind of crossbow, and advancements in arrowhead technology. 

Above: The old kind of arrowhead, ineffective against most armor. 

Above: The new kind of arrowhead, very effective at piercing chainmaille and able to pierce plate armor if launched with enough power. 

Above: An arrow shot from a “short” bow with the armor-piercing tip(I think it’s called a bodkin tip) piercing a shirt of chainmaille. However, the target likely would have survived since soldiers wore protective layers of padding underneath their armor, so if the arrow penetrated skin at all, it wasn’t deep. That’s Terry Jones in the background. 

Above: A crossbow bolt with the armor piercing tip penetrating deep through the same shirt of chainmaille. The target would likely not survive. 

Above: A crossbow bolt from the same crossbow glancing off a breastplate, demonstrating that it was in fact an improvement over wearing just chainmaille. 

Unfortunately it didn’t help at all against the powerful English longbows at close range, but credit to the French for trying. It did at least help against weaker bows. 

Now for melee weapons. 

It didn’t take long for weapons to evolve to fight this new armor, but rarely was it by way of piercing through it. It was really more so that the same weapons were now being used in new ways to get around the armor. 

Above: It’s a popular myth that Medieval swords were dull, but they still couldn’t cut through plate armor, nor could they thrust through it. Your weapon would break before the armor would. Most straight swords could, however, thrust through chainmaille and anything weaker. 

There were three general answers to this problem: 

1. Be more precise, and thrust through the weak points. 

Above: The weak points of a suit of armor. Most of these points would have been covered by chainmaille, leather, thick cloth, or all three, but a sword can thrust through all three so it doesn’t matter. 

To achieve the kind of thrusting accuracy needed to penetrate these small gaps, knights would often grip the blade of their sword with one hand and keep the other hand on the grip. This technique was called “half-swording”, and you could lose a finger if you don’t do it right, so don’t try it at home unless you have a thick leather glove to protect you, as most knights did, but it can also be done bare-handed. 

Above: Examples of half-swording. 

2. Just hit the armor so fucking hard that the force carries through and potentially breaks bones underneath. 

Specialty weapons were made for this, but we’ll get to them in a minute. For now I’m still focusing on swords because I like how versatile the European longsword is. 

Above: A longsword. They’re made for two-handed use, but they’re light enough to be used effectively in one hand if you’d like to have a shield or your other arm has been injured. Longswords are typically about 75% of the height of their wielders.

Assuming you’re holding the sword pointing towards the sky, the part just above the grip is called the crossguard, and the part just below the grip is called the pommel. If you hold the sword upside-down by the blade, using the same careful gripping techniques as with half-swording, you can strike with either the crossguard or the pommel, effectively turning the sword into a warhammer. This technique was called the Murder Stroke, and direct hits could easily dent plate armor, and leave the man inside bruised, concussed, or with a broken bone. 

Above: The Murder Stroke as seen in a Medieval swordfighting manual.

Regular maces, hammers, and other blunt weapons were equally effective if you could get a hard enough hit in without leaving yourself open, but they all suffered from part of the plate armor’s intelligent design. Nearly every part of it was smooth and/or rounded, meaning that it’s very easy for blows to ‘slide’ off, which wastes a lot of their power. This makes it very hard to get a ‘direct’ hit. 

Here come the specialized weapons to save the day. 

Above: A lucerne, or claw hammer. It’s just one of the specialized weapons, but it encompasses all their shared traits so I’m going to only list it. 

These could be one-handed, two-handed, or long polearms, but the general idea was the same. Either crack bones beneath armor with the left part, or penetrate plate armor with the right part. The left part has four ‘prongs’ so that it can ‘grip’ smooth plate armor and keep its force when it hits without glancing off. On the right side it as a super sturdy ‘pick’, which is about the only thing that can penetrate the plate armor itself. On top it has a sharp tip that’s useful for fighting more lightly armored opponents. 

3. Force them to the ground and stab them through the visor with a dagger. 

This one is pretty self-explanatory. Many conflicts between two armored knights would turn into a wrestling match. Whoever could get the other on the ground had a huge advantage, and could finish his opponent, or force him to surrender, with a dagger. 

By now you might be thinking “Dang, full plate armor has a lot of weaknesses, so how can it be called good armor?” 

The answer is because, like all armor is supposed to do, it minimizes your target area. If armor is such that your enemy either needs to risk cutting their fingers to target extremely small weak points, bring a specialized weapons designed specifically for your armor, or wrestle you to the ground to defeat you, that’s some damn good armor. So yes, it will protect you pretty well.

Above: The red areas represent the weak points of a man not wearing armor.

Also, before I move on to Mobility, I’m going to talk briefly about a pet-peeve of mine: Boob-plates. 

If you’re writing a fantasy book, movie, or video game, and you want it to be realistically themed, don’t give the women boob-shaped armor. It wasn’t done historically even in the few cases when women wore plate armor, and that’s because it isn’t as protective as a smooth, rounded breastplate like you see men wearing. A hit with any weapon between the two ‘boobs’ will hit with its full force rather than glancing off, and that’ll hurt. If you’re not going for a realistic feel, then do whatever you want. Just my advice. 

Above: Joan of Arc, wearing properly protective armor. 

An exception to this is in ancient times. Female gladiators sometimes wore boob-shaped armor because that was for entertainment and nobody cared if they lived or died. Same with male gladiators. There was also armor shaped like male chests in ancient times, but because men are more flat-chested than women, this caused less of a problem. Smooth, rounded breastplates are still superior, though. 

3. Does it allow the wearer to keep his or her freedom of movement? 

Okay, I’ve been writing this for like four hours, so thankfully this is the simplest question to answer. There’s a modern myth that plate armor weighed like 700 lbs, and that knights could barely move in it at all, but that isn’t true. On a suit of plate armor from the mid to late 1400s or early 1500s, all the joints are hinged in such a way that they don’t impede your movement very much at all. 

The whole suit, including every individual plate, the chainmaille underneath the plates, the thick cloth or leather underneath the chainmaille, and your clothes and underwear all together usually weighed about 45-55 lbs, and because the weight was distributed evenly across your whole body, you’d hardly feel the weight at all. Much heavier suits of armor that did effectively ‘lock’ the wearer in place did exist, but they never saw battlefield use. Instead, they were for showing off at parades and for jousting. Jousting armor was always heavier, thicker, and more stiffly jointed than battlefield armor because the knight only needed to move certain parts of his body, plus being thrown off a horse by a lance–even a wooden one that’s not meant to kill–has a very, very high risk of injury.

Here’s a bunch of .gifs of a guy demonstrating that you can move pretty freely in plate armor. 

Above: Can you move in it? Yes.


Here are links to the videos that I made these .gifs from: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vi757-7XD94

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NhWFQtzM4r0

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5hlIUrd7d1Q

anonymous asked:

I ❤you and your writing. B + C met during a games night at mutual friends when they got ultra competitive over a game of Monopoly. It's only right that he proposes during a game of Pictionary with the gang. Except Clarke is so focused on trying to win, that the 'subtle' theming of all the clues (i.e. totally obvious films/books etc about love and marriage, especially picked by Bellamy) totally passes her by... Cue much hilarity amongst their friends, and much exasperation/love from Bellamy. ❤

Thanks for the prompt!! I tweaked it a little, firstly because I was going on memory and forgot it was specifically pictionary, and then secondly because the thought of someone proposing to me in public/in front of people genuinely horrifies me and I couldn’t bring myself to write it lmao. Hope you like it anyway!

(ao3)


“So, marriage.”

Bellamy drives off the road, blinking at the TV as Princess Peach zooms across the finish line while his screen is black, Waluigi falling into the abyss.

“Was that intentional?” He asks, finishing the race on autopilot and in twelfth place, as Clarke snuggles into his side and presses her smile into his shoulder.

“It was a conversation I’ve been trying to figure out when to have.”

“And you decided the last three seconds of Rainbow Road was the right time?”

“Two birds, one stone.” She tilts her head and smirks up at him, and he can’t help the way his irritation instantly disappears. She might be ruthlessly competitive, but he’s also like ninety percent sure she wants to marry him, and he can’t find it within himself to be upset about anything when he’s thinking about that. “So what do you think?”

“What do I think about marriage? In general?”

“Sure. And to me, specifically.”

“Is this you proposing?”

“No way,” she snorts. “You know I don’t half-ass anything, ever. If I propose, I’m gonna sweep you off your feet.”

He grins. “Fair point.”

“So?”

“So–” He shrugs. “I don’t know. Marriage in general has never been a big dream of mine, mostly because I was pretty relieved Mom never married any of the guys in her life. It’s not like– It was still hard for her to leave some of them, but it would have been harder if there were legalities involved.”

Clarke kisses his shoulder again, nuzzling into him a little, and he puts his arm around her. “As a child of divorce, I can attest that the legalities don’t make any of it easier.”

“I guess I didn’t get the appeal of it for a long time.” He pauses. “But ever since we started dating… Well, I get it now.”

“Yeah?”

He kisses her hair. “Yeah. I want to tell everyone all the time how awesome you are and how awesome our life is together. It’s a lot easier if we do it all at once, with all the people important to us watching. And then everyone else can just take a hint from the rings.”

“Sappy,” she accuses, but he can hear the smile in her voice.

“Plus there are tax advantages and healthcare and stuff.”

“Well if it’s for tax advantages.” She straightens a little, still under his arm, and picks her controller back up.

“Hey.” He pokes her in the side. “You can’t just leave it at that. This is when you’re supposed to tell me what you think.”

Keep reading

Some Kagami love for study de-stress. Slight MadaTobi. Kagami is 13-14 here.

-

When Madara and his apprentice finishes training late, it makes sense for him to offer Kagami dinner and the spare room. This happens the next day, and the next. Until it becomes more intuitive to poke his head into the spare room than send a messenger cat off when trying to find his wayward apprentice.

He knew Kagami stayed with his cousins – he had lost his parents a long time ago, and clan members are duty-bound to adopt orphaned children. Madara also knew that Kagami was cordial, at best, with his adopted family.

Not that there was any bad blood, no. It’s hard to find anyone that dislikes Kagami. It’s just what it is; duty. And duty can be done without any deeper ties.

Madara doesn’t mind. Kagami is talkative, cheerful and eager to please. The latter is what really appeals to Madara. After years of Izuna’s affectionate insubordinance, a puppy kind of obedience makes him want to cackle with glee.

Even Izuna is happy to allow Kagami to slip into their tight knitted circle. Without hesitation, Izuna slid into the role of older-brother with an ebullience that surprises Madara.

A small part of Madara acknowledges that it’s probably because Izuna’s never had a chance to be a big brother to their own little brothers. It’s clear that Izuna enjoys making up for lost time.

Kagami is chūnin now; he works at the Police Station under Madara to clock in his community service hours, before finding Tobirama and helping him with his new band of genin. Then he usually meets up with Madara again, and they train together before crashing back home. It’s more efficient this way.

So he doesn’t really notice when extra clothes began accumulating in one of his guest rooms. Then books, and weapons. He doesn’t notice the extra pair of house slippers until he trips on them. And when he does trip over them, Madara only blinks his bleary eyes for a second, before barking at Kagami to put them at their proper place when he’s not using them.

He does notice that Kagami likes to hang out in the same room as Izuna and Madara. All three of them would do completely different things, but it never felt intrusive.

For someone who is lauded to be one of the most proficient users of the Sharingan, Madara can be pretty unobservant

There’s their household chore wheel. Normally divided in half, it disappeared one day, only to reappear divided into thirds with a new name written on it. It was also decorated with cat stickers in its new reincarnated form.

There’s his tendency to accept anything Kagami tries to hand him without looking.

One time, Kagami handed him a form instead of a police report.

“Sign, please? I want to open my own private bank account,” inform Kagami. “I’m technically still a child, since I’m under sixteen, so I need a supervisor’s signature.”

Sounds reasonable to Madara. He didn’t even blink twice before he signed the form for him.

If Madara had to peg the moment he started noticing, it would be when he realised that his lunch was edible. Actually, it was more than that. It was delicious.

“Huh.” Madara chews on his onigiri, pleasantly surprised. He offered some to Tobirama, who’s going through his own stack of papers across the expansive desk from him, to see if his tongue is playing tricks with him. Tobirama hums, and said it’s a lot better than what he usually packs.

Which is true. As siblings, Madara and Izuna can act as a study of opposites. Madara often  gets impatient and under-seasons his food. Izuna tends to get bored and starts experimenting.

No one comes out at the end of their lunch break a winner.

Then there’s the hospital incident, where Kagam broke arm badly and needed a cast on top of chakra healing. He couldn’t check out without his guardian filling in his discharge form, so a messenger was sent to Madara’s office.

When the receptionist told Madara this, he is absolutely baffled. “Guardian, as in parental guardian?” asks Madara.

“Yes, Uchiha-sama,” the receptionist replies. “He’s jotted you down as his parental guardian.”

“Huh.” Madara takes a moment for the news to register. Then he signs the discharge forms, before entering the room where Kagami sits to sort it all out.

As soon as he steps inside, Madara asks, “Do you want to be formally adopted into our family?”

“Yes!” Kagami blurts out, then flushes. “Ah, was that too desperate? I mean, yes, Shishou.” Kagami coughs and sits up straighter. “I’d very much like that.”

And it turns out, Kagami carries spare adoption papers in his flak jacket. Madara can’t help it. He chuckles before ruffling the boy’s already messy hair. “Don’t tell Izuna this,” Madara teases, “but you’re already my favourite.”

-

Izuna is lured in the kitchen by the delicious smell wafting from their wok. There Madara stands beside Kagami, Madara stirring the wok with his chopsticks while Kagami beside him throws in a handful of spices into the pan.

“Ooh,” Izuna sings. “That smells delicious! What’s the special occasion?”

Kagami turns around grinning. “I’m officially adopted into the family!”

Both of Izuna’s eyebrows rises up to his hairline. “You mean you weren’t before?”

“Nope,” confirms Kagami exuberantly.

Izuna laughs. “Really, brother? You adopt a stray kid by bringing him home, and you don’t even notice it until – when was it? I completely forgot. Kagami-chan, how long has it been now?”

“Four months,” informs Kagami. “Four awesome months.”

Madara grimaces. “Hush, you two. I’ve been busy, okay. And don’t look at me like that, Kagami.“

“Like what, Shishou?”

“Like there are stars trying to burst out of your eyes.” Madara narrows his eyes at him. “Like I’m your hero.”

“But you are my hero, my idol, my role model” defends Kagami. “Sensei told me it’s good to have a role model – and you’re everything I aspire to be in life. You’re even dating sensei!”

“What?” asks Madara.

“What?” asks Kagami, all doe eyes and innocence.

“Holy shit,” Madara mouths without sound.

“Rude. I am right here, you know,” Izuna reminds them. He levels a chopstick towards Kagami. “I’m much better role model material. Brother only wishes to be half as charismatic as I am, and it wouldn’t have taken me a gazillion years to notice that I’ve been dating Tobirama for these past couple of weeks.”

Madara is  mumbling quietly. “All those times we had dinner, and lunch, and the walks, and after work drinks – Tobirama and I have been dating and I haven’t noticed? How am I still alive? How has Tobirama not killed me yet?”

Helpful as ever, Kagami is elated to answer. “Oh! There’s a betting pool as to how long it’ll take you to realise and sensei himself even has money for – uh, I mean–” Kagami cuts off abruptly at Izuna’s rapid throat cutting motions, “–oh no! I think our stir fry’s burning! Better stir it very vigorously, Shishou–”

Madara flicks Kagami on the back of his head, because his apprentice is as transparent as glass. Izuna snickers madly while Kagami squawks. “Nice try. Izuna, you are such a bad influence. And you, Kagami, you’re telling me all about this betting pool after we finish. And Tobirama’s too old for you. Find someone younger to crush on.”

Kagami pokes his tongue out at him, and Madara rolls his eyes.

Now that he notices how easily Kagami fits into his family, he can’t help but smile. He could get used to this.

The True Epilogue (a Harry Potter fanfic)

*in which all my ships are true and things are great*

Several pairs of curious eyes followed the family of five as they pushed through the crowd at Kings Cross Station toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Atop the packed trolleys that the parents pushed were two cages- one containing a beautiful snowy owl and the other a badger, which made grumpy noises every few seconds.
“Hang in there, Comet,” the black-haired boy said placatingly. “I know it’s no fun, but you’ve got to behave.”
“I don’t know why you had to bring the stupid thing anyway,” his brother said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not on the approved list.”
“Yes, but he’s injured!”
“All your pets are or were injured.”
“And he has separation anxiety!”
“I bet they’ll take it away from you.”
“James!” their father scolded as Matthew’s bright blue eyes widened in fear. “Don’t say things like that. Your dad and I wrote to Headmistress McGonagall in advance, and she said it was fine.” Draco put a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “No one is going to take Comet away.”
“Hey,” Harry said suddenly, “there’s Ginny, Luna, and the girls.” The youngest Potter shrieked and made to run toward the family friends, but Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“Callisto Ariana Potter, what have we told you about running off?” he scolded. She smiled cheekily.
“Not to do it, I think.”
“Well, you think right. Look, here they are now, anyway.” The other family reached them, and there were cheerful greetings all around.
“So, shall we cross over?” Luna asked, and Ginny nodded. Their oldest daughter, Nymphadora, took a step forward, but her sister exclaimed, “Wait!” Nym raised an eye brow.
“What is it, Gillian?” The redhead bounced excitedly on her toes as she answered.
“This is Matty and my first year going through as actual students, so we should get to go first!” Matt held up both hands to show that he was not a part of this. Nym was already squinting, though.
“I say, whoever gets through first gets through first,” she said challengingly. She and Gillian turned and raced for the barrier together, disappearing through it within a second of each other. Ginny sighed in exasperation, pushing a trolley forward to follow them. Luna only looked amused as she trailed after her wife. Callisto tugged on Draco’s sleeve.
“I thought you said no running,” she told him, frowning.
“Yes, but I can’t control what they do. They’re not my children.” This argument lost its value, though, when James pushed ahead through the barrier as well. Harry groaned.
“I promise I’ll talk to him, Callie,” he said to avoid the rising complaints. The rest of the family followed James.
“Can I go this year, Daddy?” Callie asked. Harry shook his head with a chuckle.
“Just one more year, sweetheart.” She scowled and stamped the ground.
“Dad?” Matt said as James boarded the train with Nym (though Gillian stayed behind to wait). “Do you know what House I’m gonna be in?” Harry smiled and shook his head.
“No one knows for sure ahead of time,” he said, “but I know you’ll be great no matter what.”
“And luckily,” Draco added, “you know kids in every House, so you’ll always have someone to talk to.” Callie tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder.
“I’m gonna be a Slytherin,” she said confidently. A little bit of pride shone in Draco’s eyes.
“I don’t doubt it.”
“Alright, Matt. Go on and take your stuff,” Harry said gently. “You and Gillian should get on board. You don’t want to get left behind. Matt nodded and moved toward the train, then swiveled and threw himself into his father’s arms.
"I’m gonna miss you,” he said. Harry hugged him hard.
“I’ll miss you too, kiddo.” Matt hugged Draco too, and then he and Gillian got their stuff and waded through the small crowd to the train door.
“We’ll write!” Draco called after him.
“Every day, if you want!” Harry added. Matt gave them a slightly wavering grin before disappearing.
__________

Matthew thought he was ready for the Sorting. He thought he’d either be in Gryffindor, like Harry, or Slytherin like Draco. He definitely was not expecting the Sorting Hat to yell out “HUFFLEPUFF!” the moment it touched his head. To ecstatic cheers from his new Housemates, he made his way dazedly toward the Hufflepuff table. He’d heard Hufflepuffs called ‘duffers’ and 'goody two-shoes’ and even once 'the stoner House’, none of which sounded very positive to Matt. Still, he put on a brave face. A cobalt-haired Teddy Lupin clapped him on the back as he sat down.
“Glad to have you, Matt!” he enthused. That’s right! Teddy’s a Hufflepuff, and he’s not so bad. This thought didn’t erase his disappointment entirely, but it did help. What helped even more was hearing another shout of “HUFFLEPUFF!” immediately following a call of “Weasley, Gillian”. Matt broke into a grin as his best friend sat beside him.
“I can’t believe I’m a Hufflepuff,” he stage-whispered to her. Surprisingly, she rolled her eyes and laughed.
“Oh, please. Like you could have been anything else.” His eyebrows furrowed.
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s see. For starters, you’re a vegetarian. You always get one of your dads to take you to random volunteer things. You never let anyone get away with saying mean things. You take in injured animals- you’ve literally got twenty different pets now, if you hadn’t noticed- and your favorite just happens to be a badger, the symbol of Hufflepuff House. Honestly, if you’d been sorted anywhere else, I would have died of surprise.” Matt laughed.
“Well, when you put it like that.”
Any remaining worries he had about his Sorting vanished the moment they stepped foot in the common room. It was vastly wide and round, with honey-colored walls. The lighting was a mixture of natural light coming through the circular windows and and a warmer, golden light shining from within glass spheres on intricately carved stands. The room itself felt like mid-autumn and laughter. Best of all, there were animals. Matt suddenly understood why the Headmistress had given in to his parents’ request to accept Comet so quickly. There were maybe two dozen creatures- some magical (like a pixie and a clutter of puffskeins), some nonmagical (like a hawk, a dog, a rabbit, and a beautiful peacock). Matt heard a loud noise and turned.
“Comet!” The excited badger barreled across the room and into his legs. Matt crooned as he and Gillian bent down to pet it. A few of their new Housemates crowded around to coo at the addition to their strange zoo.
“I think this little guy will be happy here,” Teddy said. “As far as I know, we’ve never had a badger. Which is honestly ridiculous, given our symbol.” Matt laughed. I think I’m gonna like it here.
__________

James had never felt so ashamed and rejected. The words still echoed in his head. “Not the right fit,” they had said. He, James Alexander Potter, wasn’t the right fit for Gryffindor seeker. It was humiliating. After all, his own dad had supposedly been the best seeker Gryffindor ever had, and Draco had been his Slytherin counterpart. Yet James had failed.
It wasn’t that James was vain or inflexible- when they said he’d make a better chaser, he’d tried out with all his effort and scored the spot. It was a matter of belonging. James, the oldest, was the only one of the Potter children who wasn’t the biological child of either parent. Matt was Harry’s- as anyone could see by the untamable hair and the awkward knobby knees. Callie was Draco’s- again apparent by the blonde hair and the confident ambition. James was alone with his plain brown hair and hazel eyes and his (apparent) lack of Seeking skills. To add insult to injury, this meant he was the only one with no blood ties to the Lovegood/Weasley family, which had been interwoven with the Potters’ in the cases of Matt and Callie, as well as Nym and Gillian. In any case, he wasn’t sure what to do now. He had no other way to prove himself worthy of being the son of the Chosen One.
“You know it doesn’t matter to them,” Aiden Finnigan told him. “Your dads, I mean. You’re their son, and they love you.” They were in the Gryffindor common room that evening, and James gazed into the fire, only half-listening as he dwelled on his own shame. He sighed.
“Yeah, I know. It’s just… man, you know I don’t normally care what people think of me, but this is different. People look at Matt and they see Harry Potter. They don’t even act much alike, but Matt’s got the look and that’s enough for everyone. Me, what have I got?”
“Bravery, willingness, an open mind, a mischievous nature, and great taste in friends.” James looked up from the fire for the first time in ten minutes, a ghost of a smile crossing his face, and gave his best friend a light push.
“Hey, I’m serious,” Aiden continued. “I mean, I’m not much like either of my dads. I mean, I’ve been told I look like a Finnigan, but I definitely don’t act like one. And Dad #2 likes to joke that I got my extreme height from him, even though I don’t carry any of his blood. I don’t act much like him either. And that doesn’t bother me. We’re not meant to be pale echoes of our parents anyway; we’re meant to find and shape our own identities.” James nodded.
“I suppose you’re right.”
“As always.”
“Oh, shut it.”
A few days later, James’s owl showed up at breakfast with a letter from Harry.

Jamie-
I heard you made the Quidditch team, and I’m so proud of you! I knew you could do it if you wanted to- I’ve watched you fly, and you’re fantastic. Make sure to keep your nerves in check before games, okay? Ron can vouch for the fact that anxiety is a Quidditch player’s worst enemy. I’m not worried, though. Oh, I wish your Grandpa James could see you now. You know I never got to see him play, but he was a Chaser too in his day- don’t know if I ever told you that. He was also a hell of a prankster, just like you. McGonagall won’t tell you anything, because she can’t be seen condoning troublemaking, but if you see Fred floating around, he’ll tell you all the use he and George got out of the Marauders Map when they were students. Grandpa James is the one known as Prongs. I wish I could show you the map personally, but it went blank when Teddy’s dad died- he was the last Marauder standing; they called him Moony. Sorry, I’ve gone off on a tangent. My point is, we’re all proud of you, and your grandparents would be too. Lots of love,
-Dad

James was stunned. His grandfather, the one he had been named for, was a Gryffindor chaser? How had he not known? He re-read the note once, twice. It appeared that he was a bit of a Potter after all. He was curious about this Map thing too; he’d better find Fred.
__________

Ben was tired. Okay, maybe that was an understatement. “Exhausted” might have worked better; “barely functioning” was near perfect. He was tired because it was midnight and he was sitting in the hallway outside his common room. He was physically capable of going inside and lying down in his nice warm bed to sleep, but he could never do that. Neither could the thirteen other Slytherins sitting out in the hallway with him, including Nym. A prefect had come out three times now to order them all to bed, but no one budged.
“I’m not stepping foot in that place until they change the password,” Ben had told her the third time she came out. She had thrown up her hands and not come back, which earned Ben a few pats on the back.
The hallway was quiet enough that Ben could hear the footsteps long before anyone appeared down the far end.
“Someone’s coming,” he whispered. Everyone tensed. Would they be punished for this? Ben hoped not, but he needn’t have worried. He let out a breath of relief when he saw Teddy Lupin heading toward them. The Head Boy had probably been summoned to help mitigate the situation.
“What’s going on here, guys?” he asked.
“The new password is offensive,” a fifth year girl answered, “and we’re not going in until they change it.” Teddy Lupin frowned- not at those in the hallway, of course, but rather at the situation.
“Oh? What’s the password?”
“Clean blood,” Nym spat disgustedly. Teddy only sighed outwardly, but his hair turning scarlet was a clear sign of his true anger.
“Alright, well we can’t have you lot just sitting in the hallway, so you’ll have to come stay with us for the night.” There were hesitant nods all around, and the beginnings of smiles on a few faces. Staying with the Hufflepuffs…
Before we go, I have to check who’s coming. Your prefects gave me the list of absent students. Please say 'here’ when I call your name. Jade Moorland?“
"Here,” said the fifth-year who’d spoken up earlier.
“Nymphadora Weasley?”
“Here,” Nym said, and Teddy smiled. He’d always seemed fond of the younger girl, though maybe it was because she bore his mother’s name.
“Joshua Bingham?”
“Here.” Teddy went on down the list, ending with “Benjamin Wood?”
“Here,” Ben answered.
“Alright, that’s everyone. Come on, you all!”
Ben liked the Hufflepuff common room. He liked how friendly everyone was. He liked the peacock, Heracles, who seemed to like him too. There were even more things he liked the next day: for instance, how a cluster of Ravenclaws took turns shooting charms at the Slytherin door, trying to change the password or else get it to open without one. Or how, when that failed, the Gryffindors- led by their prefect, who happened to be Ben’s older sister, Elizabeth- attempted to forcibly remove the door entirely. This series of tries failed as well, but it stirred up enough commotion to draw in the Headmistress and she, upon understanding the problem, rectified it immediately, to great cheers from all parties. Ben hugged his sibling.
“Thanks for the help, Lizzy,” he said.
“Any time, little brother. It’s a good thing you guys did here today, pushing for change. Dads will be proud.”
“Think so?”
“I know so. You’ll probably make prefect next year too.” Ben laughed.
“Oh, D1 would love that.” He imagined Percy’s face when he learned that both of his children were now prefects like he had been, and Ben felt a warm rush in his stomach. I’d love that too, he thought to himself. Lizzy just grinned.
__________

Daisy hadn’t meant to start crying in the middle of Charms class; she just couldn’t hold it back anymore. She’d been trying to control her distress since the letter had arrived that morning from her father, letting her know that Grandpa Vernon didn’t want them coming over for Christmas that year or, it seemed, any year following. Of course, Dudley hadn’t explicitly told his daughter why they were no longer welcome, but she wasn’t dumb enough that she couldn’t figure it out on her own: it was because she had magic. It was already her second year at Hogwarts, but at holiday time last year her grandparents hadn’t known yet. Now they did, and Grandpa didn’t want to see her anymore.
She cried silently, with her head down, but her fellow Ravenclaws didn’t miss her shaking shoulders, and the room got quiet. Anna Granger-Weasley, her closest friend and the only one who knew what had happened, put a comforting hand on Daisy’s back.
“I know it’s not the same,” she whispered, so as not to disturb the rest of the class, “but you guys are totally coming to our Holiday gathering instead.” Daisy turned her head to look at Anna with teary eyes.
“We are?”
“Oh, absolutely. It’s a huge get-together that we do every year in James and Matt’s backyard. My Granny Molly makes twice as much food as we need, even though there’s already thirty-three of us in total. Uncle Percy drinks too much mulled wine and then goes on a rant about something or other, except none of it makes sense. Aunt Ginny and Uncle Oliver fight over which of their Quidditch teams are better- Ginny plays Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies and Oliver is Keeper for Puddlemere United. Uncle George tells us stories about Fred and him when they were students together. Aiden’s little sister Mallory, Professor Longbottom’s daughter Bex, and Callie sometimes decide to put on some silly show. It’s all great fun.” Daisy smiled weakly.
“Sounds great. You sure there’s room for me and my mum and dad?” Anna laughed softly.
“There’s always more room at a Weasley party, and the Potters’ backyard is distinctly huge.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
Daisy tried to grin after that, but Anna could probably tell she wasn’t back at 100%, because at lunch she started up a game.
“It’s called the Story Game. We take turns adding a sentence to a story as we go along. The sentences have to make grammatical sense, but the plot can be as strange or random as you want.”
“Ooh, sounds fun. Can we join in?” Daisy and Anna looked up to see Matt, Gillian, and Nym sliding in beside them (The school had recently switched to an open-seating policy to maintain camaraderie between the Houses).
“Yeah, sure,” Daisy said, scooting to make more room.
“Alright, I’ll start,” Anna said eagerly. She drummed her fingers in thought for a moment. “Okay. Once, there was an old, grumpy sorcerer who lived in a cave on a mountain.” Gillian jumped in next.
“The people at the base of the mountain believed that if you brought the sorcerer a gift that he liked, he would grant you a wish in exchange.”
“Every day,” Matt added, “Someone took a gift up the mountain, but the sorcerer didn’t like any of them.”
“Then a new woman moved to the town below,” Daisy inserted nervously, hoping she was doing this right.
“She heard about the man on the mountain, but nothing about his powers,” Nym put in. Anna’s eyes brightened as she saw where Nym was going with this.
“The woman thought the man must be lonely and perhaps cold all by himself, so she took a warm blanket and a fresh batch of cookies and brought them to him,” she said.
“The man was touched by her genuine generosity,” Gillian said, “and he offered her anything she wanted.”
“She thought for a long while, and finally she decided,” Matt contributed.
“And she asked, 'Can you put some brains in my son Tobias’s head, because he hasn’t got any.”
Anna snorted at the mention of her brother, and suddenly the whole group had dissolved into laughter.
“You can n-never tell Toby about this,” Daisy choked out between giggles. They all shook their heads in agreement, still fighting to contain the wave of mirth.
“This is why you’re my favorite,” Anna informed Daisy gleefully, and Daisy grinned. These really are the people I want to spend my holidays with, she realized.
__________

Aiden’s heart started racing the second the blood red envelope landed in front of him at breakfast. He elbowed James, eyes wide with horror.
“It’s a Howler,” he said with a voice full of dread. James gave a sympathetic smile.
“It might not be so bad. Maybe it’s some really good news, or maybe it’s just a prank from someone. You haven’t done anything wrong, have you?” Aiden shrugged.
“I mean, we did turn all Professor Longbottom’s gardening things pink and sparkly last week, but he didn’t seem to mind. I think he even sent a set home to Bex, who I’m sure was thrilled. It was an innocent bit of fun.” James smiled at the memory, but the smile dropped from his face almost immediately.
“Dude, it’s smoking at the edges.” Aiden jolted in alarm.
“Just open it, before it’s too late,” James counseled. Aiden took a deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and tore the envelope open.
When he heard his ten-year-old sister Mallory’s voice ring out, he thought he was safe. Just a prank after all. But then he heard her words.

“AIDEN OH MY GOD, I JUST FINISHED THE NEW SEASON OF NEVATERIA AND YOU’LL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED!!! STEVEN AND MABEL KISSED, AND THE SHIFTMEN KILLED CODY, AND JONATHAN TOLD CHRIS THAT HE COULDN’T SEE BEA ANYMORE. I’M DYING AND I HAD TO TELL YOU. OKAY, BYE!!!”

For a moment, there was dead silence in the Great Hall, and then a hundred people started shouting at once. They were all muggleborns or half-bloods who watched Nevateria, the current most popular sci-fi show, and they were all furious at Aiden.
“I’m sorry!” he yelled. “I didn’t ask her to tell me!” James frowned.
“What was all that about?” he asked. Oh. Aiden had forgotten that, even though James’s dad was raised by Muggles, they didn’t watch television very often.
“It’s a show,” he tried to explain. “One of the best shows. And Mallory just spoiled it for everyone.”
“Ah.”
Aiden was shamed by his non-pureblood peers for the rest of the day. It might have continued on longer, except that Toby Granger-Weasley ran up to him in the hallway after his last class, out of breath, and exclaimed, “The Room of Requirement can generate wifi!”
“What?!”
“AND it can be a movie theater!”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not! It’s officially the weekend. Let’s round everybody up and marathon Nevateria together, my guy! I’ve got Anna waiting in there so the room stays put. Whoever you pass, send them that way. We can get a few house elves to bring snacks. There’s tons of space, so if they want to watch too, that’s fine. Come on, let’s go!” Toby, Aiden, and James took off down the hallway together.
“Brilliant, you are!” Aiden exclaimed while they ran. “This is why you’re a Ravenclaw!”
The plan worked seamlessly. Everyone interested gathered in the Room of Requirement, sitting in movie theater seats, and they got the show to play. Several house elves carried around food and drink for those who wanted it, though a group of Hufflepuffs convinced two to sit down and watch for a while. It turned out Missy didn’t like it much, but Pokey was absolutely entranced. He babbled nonstop about the brilliance of it to his unfortunate neighbor, who happened to be Matt. Matt was too pleased at seeing a house elf freely enthuse about an interest to care. They all had a great time, and all the animosity toward Aiden ended. It was definitely a good day.
__________

There would certainly be more struggles ahead for the Potters, Granger-Weasleys, (Lovegood-)Weasleys, Finnigans, Woods, Longbottom, Lupin, and Dursley, but they didn’t have to worry. They were one huge team, a family, and they could handle anything. Well, almost anything. It turned out there was still a limit on how many animals a single person could bring into the school, which was a problem for Matt, who found himself missing his other creatures.
“You know, when they say don’t do something,” James said oh-so-helpfully, “they just mean don’t get caught doing it.” Matt shoved his brother, insisting that he wasn’t like that, but in the end he snuck all his animals into the castle, with help from Callie. Family meant helping each other, even if it’s helping them break school rules… didn’t it?

Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier - Sparky

You are the newest member of the Avengers. You joined after an accident in the lab you worked at in S.H.I.E.L.D gave you the ability to use lightning. When you join the team you meet Bucky Barnes, who is instantly attracted to everything about you, from your beauty to your wonderful personality. Over time, his affections for you grow and yours for him grow too, but neither of you tell each other how you really feel, both of you thinking that it’s best if you just stay friends. One day, the two of you get paired up on a mission, a pretty simple mission, but these things have a way of not going the way you want them to and neither of you expect this one to go the way it does.

Bucky x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, angst, mentions of death, violence, and blood

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The Joker x Reader - “Auntie D”

All villains get paired up by the Dark Shadows World - “Match Made in Hell (MMIH)” Division. It’s always such a challenge to find a suitable match for The Joker. Good thing you’re still around.

“What about her?” one of the entities points out and the others attending the meeting are fast to disagree.

“No way, he’ll kill her in a week!”

“She’s not strong enough to keep up with him!” another one vociferates.

“He’ll eat her for breakfast and burry the leftovers,” the leader concludes and the contendent is dismissed.

“Oh, what about that one?” someone points out towards the woman and nobody’s happy with the new choice.

“Are you kidding me?! She’s such a wimp; no way she can handle The Clown Prince of Crime!”

“Wouldn’t last two days,” another committee member complains.

“Bad choice!” more and more object.

“I’m so sick of this, we have the hardest time finding him a girlfriend,” the youngest entity sighs and suddenly you are seen on the board.

“What about Y/N?”

“Didn’t we try before and it didn’t work?” one recalls, intrigued.

“Yeah, but it’s been a while. I always thought they should have stayed together, they can handle each other. How did they break up?”

“Something about him being selfish and her not paying attention to him,” the boss remembers.

“That’s it?! We can fix this, I see she has no match yet either. We’re running out of options so I think we should make it happen again and go with the flow. No better choice. Y/N is in the same building with The Joker as we speak and we’ll have to force things a bit but it could work. All in favor, raise your hands. Oh, right, we don’t have any.”

Just a bunch of shapeless Dark Shadows.

“Yes, yes, might as well, it’s frustrating to keep on meeting about this problem.”

“Agree, I’m sick of it myself. Let’s do it!” the youngest entity impatiently speaks.

“They are so close to one another, we need to act NOW.”

“Proceed,” the leader gives its blessing and…

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

You and The Joker almost - kind of- sort of –nearly…well … definitely had a thing going about a year ago. You are actually thinking about that at the present moment as you crawl through the vents of “Diamond Emporium” store so you can get to the goodies.

Mister J is there on a heist with his men and you have no clue about each other’s presence…yet.

MMIH Division is taking care of it.

You suddenly hear the cracking sounds under you and before you can move another inch the ceiling gives out and you land right in front of your ex, almost killing Panda in the process.

“I’ll be damned, Frost, a fallen angel ! Is it Christmas already?” J grins, instantly recognizing you. “What are you doing here, Doll?”

You gather yourself from the floor, dusting debris off your clothes, grateful you didn’t break anything.

“Same thing as you, J: making sure the air ducts are clean.”

“Ha!” he snorts, signaling his guys to spread around so they can collect as many items as possible.

“Sir, the seif is over there,” Frost announces and you turn around to look.

“Want me to open it for you?” you offer, this way you can get a few things as payment instead of The Joker getting everything. You know how he operates: too bad he had the same wretched idea of robbing the place in the same time with you.

J debates and decides after a few seconds:

“Are you as fast as you used to be?”

“Faster,” you smile, fixing your hair.

“OK then, go for it,” your former boyfriend pouts, watching you head over the seif. A very sparkly necklace gets your attention so you break the small glass case and get it out, tossing it to the ground after analyzing it.

“Too shiny,” you answer J’s soundless question when he looks your way with an intrigued expression on his face.

“Too shiny?!” he repeats. “Since when a woman complains about diamonds being too shiny?! Never heard of it before,” he grinds his teeth, puzzled.

You just lift your shoulders up, you don’t need to explain your taste in sparkly stones – he should know that by now.

Jonny is waiting by the seif and you just have to say it:

“My, my, Frost, you always look so sharp in your perfect tailored suits. I love men that dress fancy for every occasion.”

Frost straightens his back, pleased at your compliment:

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“Oh, please, don’t let me interrupt your flirting,” The Joker shouts. “Can we finish this faster? We need to move out !”

Ahhhh, he’s getting annoyed, one of his “qualities” you like so much.

You start your work and J is messing around with his cane. He doesn’t want to bring it up but when does he ever know how to control himself?

“What’s wrong with my outfit, hmm?”

“Huh?” you stop what you’re doing so you can hear him.

“What’s wrong with my outfit? Since …ummm…apparently you like guys in suits. I wasn’t aware.”

You stare at his attire: no shirt -  just the purple coat, Batsy shorts and boots. About 4 heavy gold chains around his neck, a handful of bracelets on his wrists and a bunch of rings on his fingers.

“Nothing, it looks…good,” you smirk, getting back to your stuff and…done.
“My God, you are faster!” The Joker exclaims, forgetting he was irritated about your earlier statement.

“I just want a few things; you know me: I’m not greedy.”

“Go ahead,” he agrees as you open the seif.

“I want this one…and this one…” you pick what strikes your fancy, excited at the excellent quality.

“What is this?” he frowns, pulling out a chocolate bar from a small drawer inside the seif.

“Weird, why would you keep chocolate with diamonds?” you inquire, surprised.

“Maybe one of those sentimental souvenirs for someone working here?” J tries to guess, disgusted at the thought.

“How dumb, you think so?”

“Maybe,” he glares at the bar, scoffing.

“Is it expired?” you bite your cheek, in mood for sweets.

“Nope, still good.”

“Can I have it?” you reach your hand and he gives it to you.

“Suit yourself, Doll.”

“I think that’s all I want. I’m done,” and you rip the plastic foil, beginning to munch on the chocolate.

The Joker’s henchmen stashed a lot of diamonds in bags and you linger around for a bit.

“I heard you have a kid,” J sniffles, puckering his lips.

“Yes, I’m taking care of my niece. My sister died last year, shortly after we…e-hem…went our separate ways,” you bring him up to date since he’s gazing at you with those hypnotizing blue eyes, expecting a briefing.

“She died?” he replies, not really giving a crap and you are aware of it.

“Car accident,” you mumble and your eyes get teary, saddened at the memory.

“That sucks.”

That’s the best he can say for “I’m Sorry” in Joker language. Thank goodness you speak that language.

“It does…” you whimper, trying to keep it together.

“We finished, sir!” Frost announces and you are glad for the interruption.

“I’m going then,” you back out, holding tight to your backpack.

“I might need you again, Y/N. Your skills have improved even more. I have a heist in 2 days, 3 seifs inside Gotham Bank. Interested?”

“Yes, of course,” you mumble, wanting to hurry up and run before the cops show up.

“Want me to pick you up?” J offers.

“Sure, I’ll text you the address.”

“You don’t have my new phone number,” he yells before you disappear behind the stairs.

“I’m an excellent hacker, I’ll figure it out!” you scream back before sneaking through the gap in the wall J’s henchmen opened for themselves to get in.

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

You managed to get J’s phone number and text him your address ; it was a piece of cake. Yummm, cake…you love sweets. Anyway…

He came to pick you up for the robbery, wearing… a suit. Dark green. Looks ravishing on him, not that you pay attention to such details.

You are going to take a shower and get ready. In the meantime, he’s left alone in the living room with Mikah, your niece.

She’s 7, going on 40.

MMIH Division’s strongest ally and she’s not even aware.

“I know who you are, I saw you on TV,” the girl inspects J, curious to hear him speak.

“Did you now?”

“Yes, plus Auntie D has pictures of you on her cell.”
“You don’t say!” J grins, suddenly more interested in the conversation.

“Are you a bad man, mister?” Mikah wants to know right from the source.

“Yeah,” the short answer confirms it.

“Can I sit in your lap?”

“NO!” J growls, hoping you’re coming back soon.

“My aunt says she has the biggest crush on you,” the kid reports, not understanding why.

“Does she now?”

“U-hum, she talks about you quite a lot.” The little girl tightens her pony tails. “Hey, mister, are you single?”

“Supposedly,” he rolls his eyes, wishing she would shut up.

“Auntie D too. You should take her on a date.”

This feels like an interrogation: The Joker is the one that likes to ask questions, not the other way around.

Mikah just ignores his earlier reply and places herself in his lap. J doesn’t know how to react. She touches his face and he tils his head backwards because surely doesn’t like to be touched by strangers.

“Are you shy?” she bounces her legs, giggling.

“No, kid, I’m not.”

“Why do you have tattoos on your face?”

“Because I wanted them there, that’s why.”

“Auntie D says you are very handsome. I guess you are…in a strange way. Why do you look different? Auntie says we shouldn’t judge people for being different.”

Why can’t she quit talking?! J thinks. Is there a turn off button somewhere?

“Do you dye your hair?” she caresses the green locks, smitten with the wild color.

“No, it grows like this.”

“I think that’s cool. What happened to your teeth? Why are they silver?”

“Do you ever shut up?!” your ex snaps, fed up with the questionnaire.

“No, only when I sleep, ” your niece innocently blurs out. Mikah notices the numerous tattoos under the almost unbutton shirt. “Untie D loves guys with tattoos. She told me once you are a stud and then she covered my ears, but I heard it. I asked what it means because you don’t look like a horse in pictures. Auntie said to forget about it, it’s not for children.”

J snorts, finally amused.

“Did Y/N say that?”

“U-hum,” she nods. “Why do you have a cane? It doesn’t look like you’re limping.”

“So I can spank people that don’t behave,” J winks, entertained.

“Are you gonna spank Auntie D with it?!”
“Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!” he laughs. “Maybe, if she doesn’t behave.”

Interesting kid, he never had a dialogue with one before.

“Do you have children mister?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

The Joker lifts his shoulders up, not replying. Mikah continues her tirade:

“Auntie D says you’re the Daddy type. So how come you don’t have any kids yet?”

J is getting quite immersed in this crazy spiral consisting of the little girl spitting out things he shouldn’t know about.

“You should have a baby with Auntie D, I would loveeee a sibling,” she continues yammering and J wants to cover her mouth.

He finally has to seek for an answer to the burning question:

“Why do you call her Auntie D? Her name doesn’t start with a D.”

Mikah places her index finger on her lips, getting secretive.

“It’s girl stuff, I can’t tell you if you’re not part of the girl club.”

“I can be,” The Joker grins, hoping to trick Mikah into telling him.

“You’re a boy, can’t be part of our club.”

“Ohhh, that’s too bad, little Doll. But if you tell me, I’ll take your aunt on a date.”

She gasps.

“Oh my God, for reals?!”
“A-ha,” The Clown Prince of Crime is fast to utter.

“You promise?”

“Yeah.”

She gets close to his ear, whispering:
“My auntie’s bra size is a D-cup, that’s why I call her Auntie D.”

The Joker doesn’t remember hearing anything funnier than this for the past few months. He snickers, closing his eyes and Mikah giggles, happy the bad man is laughing at something she said.

“I’m ready,” you finally step in the living room, gathering your wet hair in a messy bun. You are intrigued seeing your little niece in J’s lap, both laughing, accomplices on a secret for sure; you can tell.

Before you can express your curiosity regarding the scene unfolding in front of your eyes, J gets up, leaving the kid on the chair he sat and cracks his neck, approaching.

“Change of plans, Princess, we’re going on a date. Go put something nice on.”

“We’re going on a what?!” you crinkle your nose, watching Mikah’s mouth opening in amazement - she seems delighted.

“Hurry up, I don’t have all night,” he pushes you back towards the bedroom.

“I don’t want to go on a date with you,” you protest, displeased and baffled.

“Shut up, woman, don’t talk back to me! Be grateful you have the honor of having a date with The King of Gotham,” he snarls, shoving you in the bedroom and closing the door behind him. “And hurry up…Auntie D!!!!” and you hear him laugh as he distances himself from the door.

What the hell is going on? You debate, perplexed about tonight’s twist, digging in your closet for a dress. But you have to admit you don’t really hate the present situation. After all, you still have the biggest crush on your ex, too bad he doesn’t know.

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

Match Made in Hell Division is absolutely, utterly and indisputably more than happy to close two difficult cases in the same time: The Joker and Y/N aka Auntie D.

You took enough of their precious time, even if they have an eternity to their disposal.

Plus, J is the first male villain to be part of a girls’ club, another legendary skill he will forever be praised for in The Shadow World.

It all started with a bra size.

Also read- MASTERLIST

http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

Happiness Can’t Be Arranged, Chapter 2

So, I intended Happiness Can’t Be Arranged to be a one-shot; but after I wrote it, I couldn’t get it out of my head. And then @stick-to-the-lasagna-lady@x-wishes-on-fallen-stars-x, and @mearcats didn’t help by encouraging me to continue. So here, we are… chapter two.

In this chapter, Regina grapples to figure out her place in her new husband’s household; and can’t help but be touched by Robin’s kindness toward Henry.

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