stressed and depressed

part 2 of the druig x makkari x reader fic is done but idk if i’ll post it because i think everyone may have forgotten since it’s been like 10 years.

i’m gonna take harry potter requests again. i can do headcanons or oneshots. no ship requests because those got super overwhelming tbh. honestly request fxf fics and i’ll probably write them first cuz im gay af.

i might make another account to start fresh cuz yeah but idkkk

im too lazy to make this look aesthetic and yeah

also my mom’s cancer is getting worse so that’s fun

pairing: druig x makkari x female reader

summary: reader wants to help fight the bad guys but she’s kind of clumsy so Makkari and Druig are worrying about her 24/7 because their S/O is a well intentioned idiot.

word count: 895

author note: this is definitely going to have more parts! next chapter makkari is going to be added into the mix :)

Druig had never been an open book, but after 3 years of dating, he had opened up to you. You had been shocked, to say the least, but it was nothing compared to what you felt now, and you were sure Druig felt ten times worse. You could tell he was upset from the clenching of his jaw and his knit together brows.

You were leaning against a wall in the corner, silently observing. You could tell that the man with the Scottish accent didn’t appear to like Druig very much. Ikaris, you believed his name was, barely shifted his gaze away from Sersi, but surprisingly, the younger girl, Sprite, had her eyes fixed on him. What an interesting dynamic, you pondered silently. You prided yourself in being incredibly observant, able to pick up on small details that others would miss.

Sersi was pleading for Druig to join them, but he looked unaffected, and you could tell that he had already made up his mind. “I’m sorry Sersi, I really am… But I have a life here,” he said quietly, his eyes flickering towards you.

“Actually, I think you should go with them,” you said, surprising yourself. Druig looked at you in shock, a hurt expression flashing across his face before closing off. He stalked over to you and grabbed your hand, motioning towards the doors.

When you were outside, away from the prying eyes of his friends, he turned to face you before speaking in a whisper, “I’ve put that part of my life behind me, you know that. The only thing I want is to have a life, with you.”

You sighed wearily, “I want a life with you too, that’s why you have to do this. Who knows how long we’ll have until this Emergence thing happens. Days, weeks, months.. It’s not enough, I want to have our entire life together.” You cupped his cheek with your hand and he leaned into it, closing his eyes slightly. After a few minutes, he pulled away, nodding.

He went to tell the others but you stayed outside, watching the village. He had created an entirely new life here. A little slice of utopia away from the real world and its problems of greed, starvation, war, and poverty. Part of you wished you could run away with him, protect him, but you knew you couldn’t. Your train of thought were cut off when you heard an inhuman scream in the distance.

The events that followed were a blur, Druig had all but locked you in one of the many buildings with the orders to “stay put.” He had kissed your cheek before running off, leaving you alone with your thoughts as you listened to his friends being slaughtered.

You could hear yelling from outside and you were restless, hopping from foot to foot. How could you hide like a coward while the Eternals put their lives on the line? Even Kingo’s valet was out there, part of the action, or at least filming it.

Making up your mind, you unlocked the door and crept out. Your heart was beating a mile a minute and you were terrified that those things could hear it.

The young girl, Sprite, had been flung to the ground by the Deviant creature. It advanced, readying it’s tentacle like appendages to strike. Picking up a rock from the ground, you chucked it at the Deviant’s head, hoping to buy her some time. It missed, quite horribly, but it served to catch the creature’s attention and it turned towards you, giving Sprite a chance to scramble up. The thing narrowed it’s eyes into slits and you ran, but you were no match for it’s speed.

It pounced on you, causing you to screamed in terror, trying to wriggle from it’s grasp when suddenly, a ball of light hit its side, flinging it off you and into a wall.

Kingo, the movie star, offered you a hand and you took it, shaking. “Thank you so much,” you choked out, reeling from your near death experience. You could still smell the thing’s rancid breath.

“Anytime,” he said, looking off into the distance. When you followed his gaze, you saw his valet filming, giving him a thumbs up. “I am an Eternal, a protector of mankind. I was just doing my job.” Lowering his voice to a conspiratory whisper, he leaned in slightly, “Plus, Druig would murder me if you died.”

The monster roared angrily in the distance, brushing itself off, “And that’s my cue,” he sighed.

After the battle, Druig stormed up to you. Apparently he had heard of your little brush with death. He examined every inch of you, looking for the slightest scratch. “Never do that again,” he ordered, his voice trembling slightly. He brushed a strand of hair away from your face with shaking hands and you realized he was terrified he would lose you.

“I’m all right,” you reminded him, gently, “we’re alright.” As if it was an afterthought, you added, “plus, I’m guessing I’ll be pretty close to the Deviants on a regular basis… You know, since I’m coming with you.”

ask and you shall receive

Snowy Skies and Late Nights

Jeon Pil-do x Yoon Ji-woo

A/N: this is probably out of character tbh because i haven’t watched the show in so long and my mind is just filled with Eternals now

The comfortable silence hung in the air like a thick blanket on a winter night. Warm, pleasant. Ji-woo silently pondered the man sitting next to her. The first time they met, Pil-do had treated her as a bothersome bug flying around his head. He had been harsh, but looking back, his frustration was understandable.

It had taken… a while, for him to warm up to her, and her to him. They had both been wary of each other, unwilling to let a new person infiltrate their bubble. He had disliked her, he thought her rash and cocky. To him, she took too many unnecessary risks.

Her stomach felt warm when she recalled the time he called her “his partner” for the first time. She hated it. She had a job to do, a mission, and she wasn’t going to let some by the book cop jeopardize it, no matter how handsome, or kind, or thoughtful he was. She didn’t care about him, she hated his stupid perfect hair and his caring, gentle compassion, especially when it was directed at her. Ji-woo had never had friends, the bully girls at her school had made sure of that. At the gym, all the men either wanted to hurt her, humiliate her, or fuck her. The closest she had to a friend was Mu-jin, and he was more of a mentor figure.

She was pulled out of thought when Pil-do turned to her, a curious expression on his face, “What are you thinking about?” He questioned.

“How do you know I’m thinking about anything? I could just be admiring the snow,” Ji-woo pointed out.

“When you think deeply, you get this specific look in your face, I don’t know how to explain it,” Pil-do paused, “Your brow furrows slightly and you purse your lips.”

She frowned, was she that easy to read?

Pil-do laughed and she realized she had asked her question out loud. “No, the opposite. When we first met, for the longest time I could never tell if you were happy or wanted to punch me, but when you work with someone for a while you pick up on their mannerisms. For example, when you’re trying to figure something out, you bite the inside of your cheek and brush this strand of hair behind your ear.” As he said this, he reached out and gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

She blushed before looking down, her hair falling back around her face like a curtain. She realized they had somehow migrated towards each other while they were talking, now only a few inches away from one another.

He winced, “I’m sorry, was that too direct?”

She looked back up at him, preparing to brush him off, when she stopped and looking at him. His dark eyes were soft, a softness she had never known. Her lips parted slightly, and his eyes flickered towards them. He swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. They both moved towards each other slowly, waiting for the other to back away.

Once their lips were barely an inch apart, Pil-do hesitated, and started to pull back. Ji-woo, without thinking about it, swiftly leaned forward and closed the gap, kissing him.

He gasped slightly in her mouth before recovering and returning the kiss with enthusiasm. His arms came around her and she cupped his cheek in her hand. Gangs, murder, drugs, they were all the farthest from her mind they’ve been in a long time. All she could focus on was him, the feeling of his soft lips on hers, the slight, steady, pressure of his arms around her, the fresh, clean smell of his cologne.

She had things to do, people to kill, but smiling against his lips, she decided it could wait. At least for a little while.

omfg not to mention how over protective he gets when she’s in the hospital after the car thing and he says that he trusts her

like rivals to lovers is just *chef’s kiss* honestly

i can’t believe what they did to him like i’m sobbing please the last half of episode 8 never happened nope i’m denying it

Loyal as a Lion : George Weasley x Reader

Summary: Lions protect those they love, and George is no exception. (aka, in which George throws hands because Malfoy is being a git to you)

Warnings: Mentions of fighting and injury

Author’s Note: Ahhh it’s been so long since I’ve posted, thank you everyone for being patient with me!

It was no secret that although Slytherin was your house, it wasn’t your home. You were a muggleborn and the other Slytherins treated you like the filth beneath their shoes.

As you walk down the corridors, Draco Malfoy brushed past you roughly, “Get out of my way you filthy mudblood,” he hissed, his aristocratic face was twisted in disgust as he glared at you.

You mumbled some choice words under your breath, quickly trying to distance yourself from him. He grabs your wrist before you can melt into the crowd, “What did you say?” He asked, voice dangerously low.

You stumbled away from his painfully tight grasp, spilling all your books on the floor with a loud bang. “I said, I’d rather be a ‘filthy mudblood” instead of a pompous cowardly arse,” you spit, channeling an inner bravery you didn’t know you possessed.

He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Fred and George came up behind you. “Having any trouble?” George asked, looking at you in concern while Fred gathered your books.

You gave them both a thankful look, “Nope, just having a friendly chat with Malfoy here.”

Malfoy gave the twins a weary look and subconsciously touched his nose, remembering the disasterous match in 5th year.

“Well,” George said pleasantly, “I’ll walk you to your next class. Wouldn’t want you to catch the fleas that Malfoy picked up while he was a ferret.”

“Oh yeah!” Fred interjected, “Remember that Malfoy? Fake Moody turned you into a white ferret? He bounced you up and down and up and down until McGonogall stopped him? Reckon it was the highlight of my 6th year.”

Draco glared, “Blood traitors sticking up for a mudblood? No suprise there. Especially since you’re fucking at least one of them.”

All three of your faces flush at the implication, Fred and George have murderous expressions on their faces.

Malfoy turns and stalks off, dissapearing into the sea of students.

“That little-” George huffed, he looks at you and his face softens, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“He grabbed my wrist pretty hard,” you shrugged, showing him the light bruises forming on your inner wrist.

“I’m going to kill him,” George declares loudly, his expression thunderous, and Fred nodded in agreement. Some passing students gave the twins weird looks.

“Don’t bother, he’s not worth it,” you sigh, “And it’ll just make everything worse.”

After making the twins promise not to do anything, George walks you to class.

The rest of the day is uneventful. At mealtime, you sit alone like always. Sometimes, Fred and George would try to sit with you at the Slytherin table, but it always resulted in them getting detention and being sent back to their own tables.

George walks you back to your dorm, like always. He started in your 2nd year when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened and has done it ever since.

When you walk into your dorm, all the chatter abruptly cuts off. The other girls stare at you and start whispering behind their hands, making barely any effort to keep their voices quiet. Pansy Parkinson looks about you and scowls, crossing her arms.

You silently get ready for bed, trying to get away from the prying eyes and judgmental glares of your peers.

The next day, you wake up feeling strangely refreshed. You go to change into your robes, but as you’re unfolding them, you notice something.

“Mudblood” was scrawled in big, red letters on the back of the robe.

“Scourifgy,” you point your wand at the robe, but nothing happens. You let out a growl of frustration and discard the robe onto your bed.

You sigh and weigh the pros and cons of wearing one of your out of school outfits. You’d surely get detention for being out of uniform, but the alternative was much worse.

Pulling out your favourite sweater, you find that it also has “Mudblood” on it. You start to search through your closing, growing increasingly frantic when shirt after shirt are all marred with the slur.

Settling for the robe, you quickly walk to class, keeping your back to the wall. Draco slams into you and you fall face first on the floor, the ugly, red “Mudblood” on display for all to see.

“You did this,” you accuse, your face burning with shame.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says smoothly.

Pansy Parkinson shoulders through the crowd and when she sees you, she laughs. “Good one, Draco.”

You can hear some people snickering and some others gaze upon you with pity.

George stumbles toward you, he’s breathing hard and sweat shines on his forehead. “What the fuck is going on?”

He catches sight of you, curled up on the floor as if you’re trying to shrink. Misery paints your face and your eyes lack the brightness they usually hold. George scans the crowd quickly, trying to look for the cause of your pain.

He locks eyes with Malfoy and before you could say “quidditch,” the two were rolling on the floor, each fighting for the upper hand.

Both boys get in quit a few punches before Flickwit Impediments them. Flitwick looks at you before zeroing in on your robe. He looks at George, and then looks at Draco, quickly putting together what had happened.

“Mr. Malfoy, with me,” he says sternly and Malfoy tries to protest, but is cut off with a sharp look.

The crowd disperses and you and George are left standing in the empty corridor. His lip is split and he has a dark bruise on his jaw. His hands are cut up and beginning to bruise.

You sigh, “George, come with me.”

He silently follows you, raising an eyebrow when you pull him into the girl’s bathroom.

You summon some basic medical supplies and set them on the counter. Instructing him not to move, you start to tend to his wounds.

“You’re an idiot,” you say affectionalty, “You know that, right?” You gently wiped the blood away from a particularly nasty cut under his eye, causing George to wince.

“That’s not very nice,” he pouts exaggeratedly.

You two lapse into a comfortable silence, occasionally punctuated with a hiss of pain followed for a soft “sorry.”

“Why’d you do it?” you ask.

“Do what?”

“Fight Malfoy.”

“Because he’s a git,” George shrugs.

“You shouldn’t have done that. You’re lucky that Flitwick didn’t get you in trouble. It wasn’t worth it,” you say, finishing up on his face and moving onto his hands.

“Not worth it?” He asked incredulously, “He wrote ‘mudblood’ on your school robe!”

You shrug, “That’s what I am though.”

George gently urges you to look at him and when you do, his eyes are earnest, “You’re not, and don’t ever call yourself again. You may be muggleborn but you an amazing witch and you don’t deserve to have to put up with assholes like Malfoy.”

“Amazing?” you ask, teasingly.

George blushed, “Yeah, you’re pretty amazing.”

You bite your lip, unable to tear your gaze away from him. George’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows nervously.

“Can I-?” he starts.

You cut him off, “Yes.”

Tilting your chin up, he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You grab onto his biceps to steady yourself and George’s hands cup your face lovingly.

“Ouch,” he yelped, pulling away from you and touching his lip.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, mortified.

“It’s fine,” George brushes it off. “Make it up to me by accompanying me to Hogsmeade this weekend?” His voice is confident and smooth, but you can see the nervousness in his eyes.

the platonic relationships feeling just as important as the relationship is something u rarely see and honestly i LOVE to see it. you write the characters so well too they’re really in character and it was just so beautiful. (also i’m a softie for fred always) BUT AGAIN THE PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS ITS SENDING ME INTO ORBIT I CANT EXPRESS MY LOVE FOR YOUR WRITING IM GONNA GO BINGE ALL YOUR WORK ILY

AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! THIS MEANS A LOT TO ME ASKFJJJSJ-

ILY TOO 🥺😭