#BUT THEN RIGHT AFTER I POSTED IT I SUDDENLY GOT INSPIRATION SOOO

[wowa-bublord]

If you are driven over the edge, the game is over. (Hold on as long as you can, help isn't coming.)

[featherlight-touches]

Take your medicine

Xiao/Venti

a/n: I had this saved in my drafts for sooo long, and I finally got around to posting it! I'm still getting used to the characters but I enjoyed writing for them! I hope you enjoy!

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

As Xiao teleported back to the Wangshu Inn balcony after a gruelling day of fending off dangerous foes that threatened the sanctity of Liyue, he was met with an unexpected sight - the carefree Anemo Archon himself, Venti, casually lounging upon one of the chairs whilst playing on his lyre a soothing sound that Xiao was not familiar with.

“It’s you,” Xiao's brows furrowed, a mix of confusion and wariness flickering across his stoic features. What in Teyvat could have prompted Venti to seek him out?

Venti gave a small hum to ensure that Xiao’s words had not gone unheard, but the song he played continued. Xiao, despite his initial surprise, felt a pang of curiosity as to the bard’s intentions.

“Has something happened?” Xiao’s impatience got the better of him and this earned a small chuckle from the Archon, his head turning to give a small shake towards the Yaksha. Xiao couldn’t help but watch the way his neat braids danced with his head movement and because he was aware of the lack of threat, he calmed down and listened.

After a few more moments of soothing music from the lyre, Venti finished his song.

“Hello, Xiao!” he finally greeted, happy and carefree as ever. “Sorry for not responding to you right away, I was suddenly struck with inspiration that I just had to play before it was lost.”

Xiao nodded. “I didn’t expect to see you here, which is why I asked if there was something wrong.”

“Nothing wrong at all, my dear Xiao, I’m simply here visiting an old friend.” Venti’s smile was sweet, and it never failed to make Xiao’s heart flutter once it was directed towards him. “I had just finished my visit to the ever so welcoming Geo Archon, but that old blockhead still-”

“Watch your words, Lord Barbatos.” Xiao growled; his eyes narrow in his annoyance. Venti blinked slightly taken back by the sudden change but smiled in understanding. Xiao was very protective of his Archon and rightfully so.

“Forgive me, I meant Zhongli, ehe.” Venti raised his hands up defensively and stuck out his tongue playfully, trying to pull Xiao back into light-hearted conversation. “How many times do I have to remind you that I prefer to go by Venti now?”

“I will respect your wishes if you show respect to mine. Rex La- I mean, Zhongli is important to me, and I will not have his name be disrespected by anyone, not even you.” Xiao folded his arms across his chest and looked Venti dead in the eyes.

Venti giggled. “Alright, alright, I get it. You know I only jest, I have nothing against Zhongli. Despite his contradicting actions, we are good friends, you know? Just think of it as playful banter.”

“Hmph.”

Venti’s chuckle was nervous but light. “Anyway, how has my favourite Adeptus been doing?”

Xiao decided to give in to small talk he would usually deem pointless because Venti had travelled all this way after all.

“Fine.”

He was an Adeptus of little words. Venti knew this and didn’t seem to mind at all, he only beamed at his response.

“I’m glad to hear it! I hope that Karmic debt of yours hasn’t been giving you too much trouble?” Venti stepped closer to him however, the voices of guests coming up the stairs reminded Xiao that they were not in a confidential space and their conversations were not meant for mortal ears.

“Please follow me, Lord – Uh, Venti.”

“Lord Venti?” of course Venti would giggle at that, and Xiao cursed the heat rising to his face at the sweet sound that was his laughter. “I like that!”

“Enough. Come this way,” Xiao hissed, grabbing onto his wrist and dragging him off the balcony and away from the other guests.

★・・・★

Once they made it into Xiao’s room, Xiao made sure to close the door behind them, securing their privacy. It was only after he turned to notice Venti taking it upon himself to show himself around that he realised he didn’t really invite others into his room.

He rarely slept and only returned to this room when completely necessary for rest, which was a rare occurrence. The room looked pretty much untouched aside from a few objects on the shelves that Xiao collected over the years.

“I… apologize for the mess?” Xiao tried, realising there wasn’t really a mess to apologize for, but he felt like something should have been said. “I don’t usually invite people back here.”

“Oh, Xiao, you needn’t apologize to me. I think this room suits you very well, actually!” Venti held his arms out wide and gave a whimsical spin around the large space. Xiao watched, almost enchanted by his movements. How could he manage to make anything look so mesmerizing? Xiao snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a sudden disapproving hum from the Anemo Archon.

“What is it?”

“It would appear that Zhongli was right to be concerned about this,” Venti’s attention was focused upon the medicines that have piled up on the bedside table, a clear indication that Xiao had been neglecting to take them.

Once Venti’s disappointed eyes turned to meet his, Xiao quickly avoided eye contact and looked off to picture frame that he decided looked more interesting in that moment.

“Xiao,” Venti chided. “Why haven’t you been taking your medicine? Doesn’t it help you feel better?”

“Not really,” Xiao muttered. “Did Rex Lapis order you to investigate this?”

“Ah ah ah,” Venti wagged a finger in Xiao’s direction. “It’s Mr Zhongli, remember? Even I can hear his disapproving tone now. But to answer your question, no, he did not order me to do anything. As if I would do so even if he did.” Venti muttered the last part, almost amused by the accusation. “He mentioned his concerns to me, and I wanted to see for myself if you were taking care of yourself.”

“Both of you can rest assured that I am well and taking care of myself just fine.”

Venti’s eyes gazed upon the medicines again. “Uh huh.”

“I do not need to rely on medicines when I have been dealing with this for years. I am more than used to it.”

“Just because you have been dealing with it for years doesn’t mean you have to continue to suffer with it. If there are easier ways to do it, surely that’s the best choice, right?” Venti approached with a medicine vial in his hand. “Come on, Xiao.”

“It matters not. I will atone for my actions and suffer the consequences as they are presented to me.” Xiao barely noticed that Venti had approached so close until he turned and noticed the grinning Archon just inches from his face. Startled by the sudden closeness, he flinches. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re so stubborn,” Venti giggled and held up the medicine to his face. “Take your medicine.”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No, Venti!”

“I’ll tickle you!”

“You- What?” Xiao barely had time to register the words because those pesky fingers were prodding into his sides. The undignified yelp that left Xiao’s lips was embarrassing and he immediately grabbed onto Venti’s wrists. “Stop that!”

“Will you take your medicine?”

Xiao stared at the grinning Archon. He knew that grin. That was a ‘I’m not stopping until I’ve gotten my way’ grin.

“You’re such a child,” Xiao groaned, before another startled yelp was forced from him when Venti’s fingers poked at his belly. “S-Stop!”

Venti persisted, pulling his wrists free from Xiao’s grasp at amazing speed before bringing them to his ribs, unleashing another tickle attack and sang. “Tickle, tickle!”  

Heat rose to Xiao’s face in flustered embarrassment as he squirmed, trying to get away from the onslaught of tickles from Venti but he annoyingly held on to him before he could get too far. Venti was probably the only other person who discovered how ticklish the Adeptus was once he saw the traveller tickle him some time ago.

He could have spared Xiao and acted like he never saw anything. But of course not, he decided to use it against him whenever he saw fit, exploiting his tickle spots with endless torment. Xiao wasn’t much of a giggler, he had breathy laughter, almost as if his voice was not used to making these sounds at all. But as soon as Venti’s fingers traced around to his back and tickled there, that’s when the laughter started to pick up.

“Aw, is your back ticklish, Xiao?” he had the audacity to laugh at him through this torture.

“Venti! – ahaha – stop!” Xiao wheezed, his mind going fuzzy with the ticklish sensations inflicted upon him. “Please!”

“I’ll stop when you take your medicine, Xiao! We care about you, you know? We want you to feel better,” Venti lectured, which would have been received if Xiao wasn’t currently battling for air right now. Venti’s fingers came to a slow halt as his arms wrapped tightly around Xiao in a warm embrace.

Xiao, while catching his breath, stared over Venti’s shoulder in confusion by this sudden contact.

“You don’t deserve to suffer the way you do,” Venti whispered, his voice sounding solemn which surprised the Adeptus. “I helped you once. I’ll do it again and again, if I must.”

“Venti… you don’t need to concern yourself with-”

“Stop saying that!” Venti pulled out of the embrace, placing his hands upon Xiao’s shoulders to lock eyes with him. “I am concerned. Zhongli is concerned, the traveller, heck, I’m pretty sure even most of Liyue is concerned about the remaining Yaksha! Why do you insist on taking on this burden alone?”

Xiao blinked, stunned to silence. He had never seen this side of Venti before; the bard was usually so carefree and mischievous. Did his behaviour really upset him this much?

There was a prolonged silence before Xiao reached for the medicine vial still within Venti’s palm. “I’ll take the medicine.”

Venti’s smile returned at his words, though Xiao could tell that it didn’t reach his eyes.

“My silly adeptus,” he cooed, cupping Xiao’s cheeks into his hands and using a thumb to gently stroke along the bone. “Thank you.”

Xiao hummed in response, his golden eyes looking downwards to avoid Venti’s gaze.

“Will you be heading back to Mondstadt?” Xiao changed the subject, not comfortable with the previous tone of conversation. Venti’s finger booped his nose before he back away from the Yaksha.

“Maybe tomorrow,” he replied, stretching his arms above his head and letting out a loud and obnoxious yawn. “I’m tired.”

“Then you may use my room tonight to rest,” Xiao offered before taking the medicine as promised, which Venti smiled gratefully for.

“Stay with me?” He asked gently, not wanting to startle Xiao. He then giggled at Xiao’s grimace from the medicine before noting the small nod from him.

“As you wish.”

[thenugking]

✅😠😊

Why must people continuously make me say nice things about myself afghjk

✅ list one or two favorite lines you’ve written and explain why they’re your favorite 

From the latest chapter of Not A Place of Honour:

She growls, spinning suddenly, knife catching the thigh of the devil behind her before its bulging eyes can blink. Orin the Red is not afraid to die, won’t hide away from Father to slowly starve within her tomb. She slashes, cuts, gouges, makes rivers of blood from insect bellies, makes art of their deaths as she crafts her own, all red and white and blood freezing into ice. She will be beautiful, her corpse-meat a shrine to Bhaal--even in the depths of Hell they will know Father’s name. She will make Kallian proud.

Honestly the “Orin in hell” scene only exists to bridge the gap between two longish Gortash POV scenes, but when I went back to reread it before posting chapter 4, I ended up going “holy shit this is great, and a vital piece of the story”. Orin POV is fucking difficult to write, but it feels so fucking worth it when I get into the flow and really find her voice, and I’m always proud when I feel like I’ve done that well.

Aaaand a little snippet from the newest Val letter I posted this afternoon:

Anyway, I guess Wyll’s inspired me, because I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf and start helping all the poor unfortunates of the world. Starting, of course, with the beautiful, dangerous, starving vampire, who was more than welcome to take as much as he liked. I feel like you probably don’t want all the details. But, well, it felt good. Incredibly so. (And I swear, it was only blood drinking. No matter how much of my shirt I pulled out of the way. To, you know, keep blood stains off it.) And I’m pretty sure Astarion was enjoying himself too, considering how much he drank. It wasn’t a dangerous amount or anything! He pulled away after I started moaning once he realised he’d be too overcome with desire to stop if things went any further. But I might’ve got up a bit too quickly to run after him check in with him after, and might’ve fainted a little bit, and woken up the others, who had some things to say about the whole vampire revelation. I’m fine though, really, just a little woozy! Shadowheart’s making a big deal about how he almost killed me, but she just needs to prove she’s still enough of a downer for Shar after spending the evening baby-talking the dog.

I love this because while Val’s going “omg Astarion must be sooo into me, we both had such a fun time with the blood drinking kink!!” that’s, y’know, very much not what Astarion is feeling about Tav during Bite Night! What he actually does in Bite Night is fucking kill Tav if they don’t persuade him to stop, and he is very much right on track to do that here, until they start moaning, and he gets uncomfortable enough to leave.

😠 whats your least favorite part of your writing process?

Making the fucking words come out when I know what I want them to say but I don’t know which words to use and then I put some words down, but those words are wrong and I have to find a different fucking word and also the sentences is now ten lines long so I need to put a full stop in somewhere and once I’ve done That I need some more fucking words. I hate those bastards.

😊 say something nice about your writing

I’m good at characterisation and dialogue. Again, I’m very proud that I’ve gotten pretty good at writing Orin, who’s definitely the hardest character I’ve ever written for.

[troublcmakcrs]

{ ⊾ } —- favorite rp memory? / { ⋎ } —- favorite thing about the rp community? ( forces you to be nice because its funny ) / { ⊿ } this was talk about your favorite character but amma add spice : talk about your favorite sim character <3

wahhh, i had to leave the mysims rpc after a huge stupid drama blew it up (part of my decision to leave was due to me being busy with school anyway, plus it was just boring to continue in that fandom when half of my rp partners (2 people) suddenly blocked me) but my time in that fandom will always hold a very special place in my heart. it was the first tumblr rpc that i really got into, and it was back in the days of people actually interacting and sending out random asks and tagging their mutuals in random starters. even with only 5 people, a pet rock, and a shoelace in the fandom, the dash felt so vibrant and alive.

i had one ship that i really loved, travis & crystal, wherein i wrote crystal and my friend (at the time) joey wrote travis. they were high school sweethearts, the dumb blond jock boy & the bitchy sassy goth girl riddled with teen angst. and they were sooo cute 💕 i struggle to listen to songs about summer love without going back to them

i do wanna bring my mysims muses back someday, but i'm worried i'll never be able to recapture the magic that was The Thems, i'm sooo :(

     *     *     *

fuck you

my favorite thing about the rpc community is... honestly... just existing as a community. i love seeing everybody's writing and posts on my dash and being able to get inspired by those! while i write entirely for myself (and you should, too!) i find that my writing is better when i'm faced with other writing. there's just something about getting a really good reply from your partner, like when eli hit me with the line "an ouroboros of narcissism" or something like that, that gets me.

you know when you read something so good that your fingers get twitchy and you feel compelled to put them on the keys yourself? i live for that feeling, and it's something i don't get as easily in the fanfiction community. but in the rpc, that feedback loop is pretty much constant

     *     *     *

AGH... how could you make me pick a favorite sim?? :( all of the residents of sunset valley (not you, thornton wolff) have me in a fucking vice. (i'm jk, even thornton gets me, but goddamn he is terrible, but that's what's fun about him. pretty much every time i play with thornton, i make him the biggest bitch imaginable)

but ig... my favorite sim out of all of them is probably mortimer goth. he's definitely gotten the most playtime out of all of the sunset valley townies. i love going against established canon and making him marry the ghost, lolita goth, in his backyard instead of bella bachelor like he's ~supposed~ to or whatever. sb pointed out that that was very twilight-ish, and i'm like. fuck it, idc, maybe twilight has a point. it is kinda freaky, but i think it's cute. weird but cute. let me live, goddamn!!

a very close second is agnes crumplebottom, mortimer's aunt. without player intervention, she will pretty much always die loveless and alone, despite having the "hopeless romantic" trait, and that breaks my heart :( so i intervene as often as i can bc i can't stand to see her die lonely :((

she's a recurring character from... i believe the very first sims game, although she didn't come in until one of the expansion packs. and she made her debut as a crotchety old woman who beat happy lovers who committed pda in front of her with her purse, which ok.......... queen...

but also with sims 3 giving us the backstory that her fiance died right before their HONEYMOON and the implication that she's only bitter about happy couples bc she feels she lost her chance at love... she got me like :(((

(also i just looked it up and i was right. agnes was first introduced in the expansion pack for the sims, "hot date." mortimer has also been in all 4 sims games released so far, in the very base versions of all.)

[nanamomi]

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧 Welcome to my official get-to-know-me page or should I call “rant page” lol. I don’t usually post stuff about my personal life online but maybe you’ll find something strange abt me here :> Take note, some of my posts may or may be not directed at anyone. I will not reveal who I am pointing towards to as this may lead to misunderstanding AGAIN lmao.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: Here are some random stuff about me :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

˙˚˙ I was born with a skin tag on my ear. “Wtf is that?” It’s an extra skin that kinda looks like a smol pinky. I was so insecure about it before and decided to hide it behind my hair. Back in elementary, it’s required for u to wear a ponytail or headband😭… It was something that bothers me a LOT so I got it removed at 6th grade as a graduation gift. I waited so long for this moment to happen since I finally had the chance to wear a ponytail without worrying too much

˙˚˙ Are you currently writing a book? Yes! I’ll publish my book after I revise the last chapter. Since ur a special follower, u can get a sneak peak with the title :D I’m still making sum few changes abt it but I already have thought of a draft— “I Am An Introvert So Don’t Mess With Me.” This title kinda sounds a little off but I’ll try working on it. Introverts nowadays are determined to be “weak” cause many of us believe that if you’re alone, you have no role in society. In this book of mine, you’ll explore different experiences I had as an introvert my entire senior year. SHOULD I SELL THEM OR GIVE THEM OUT FOR FREE?? Any thoughts 💭

˙˚˙ What makes a person a “friend?” umm.. I have my own opinion about this. To whoever’s reading this, I hope you don’t get offended in any way. SOOO before I answer this question, let me tell you a story ;-; There’s this one girl who I considered as my friend but I felt like she only saw me as a friend of convenience— which means pretending to be someone’s friend in order to use them for your purposes. She messages me whenever she needs to rant about her so called “Ex” which is one of my friends too. As her “friend,” I mean acquaintance rather… I did what is right— told her to cut him off. After months of being her acquaintance, she suddenly treated me like TRASHHHH. I know she was bullied by sum mean girls during highschool but now she became the mean girl towards me lmaooo.. This generation kinda sucks for me since many people are trying their best just to fit in, no offense. I think you can only consider someone a friend if they’re genuine and consistent.

˙˚˙ Are you having a hard time to start a conversation and make friends? Yeah. I’m not used to be so extrovert-ish ;-; Though I may be a good listener, there are times that I just want to be on my own bubble. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it when someone tries to approach me, but it just scares that the person I trust the most becomes my enemy. MY TRUST ISSUES are so high to the point that I might break your heart 😭. I don’t want that to happen tho. There are times that I js get scared and want to be careful w my surroundings. I’m so tired of having problems bro 🥲

˚˙ If you’re an introvert, why are you so active when it comes to acads/reporting? OKAY.. so there’s a huge difference between being shy and being an introvert. Most of us are confused between the terms but for me, an introvert can be vocal if they want to. I have two separate lives: school life and personal life. I am a different person when it comes on both sides. There are various types of introverts and I consider myself as a confident one 🤓. Because of continous reading and binge-watching stories, I’ve adapted many personal skills that made me successful in my overall academics. For example, my love for watching MSA videos allowed me to have a skill of public speaking. Personally, I am not a fan of talking in a crowd full of people but because of the inspiring stories, I am here today :DD BUT TO BE HONEST, I still have that anxiety inside of me whenever I try to speak in front 😭. I js know how to look confident, that’s all :’’3

˙˚˙ I get socially drained most of the time. If you notice me not talking, that means I need to recharge. I don’t like initiating conversations with a smol percentage of social battery. I swearrr!! I love meeting new ppl but I hope they don’t mind if I’m inconsistentz

[blue-jisungs]

Hihi!! so I liked ur post enha reaction to u crying after watching a k-drama and I was wondering if u could make like a small oneshot typa thing on ni-ki’s part? speficially the “long story short, they thought HE made you cry and they yelled at him - causing you to cheer up a bit” idkk i thought it was kinda cute 😭😭

p.s ur blog is sooo good i love ur writing ⭐️💛☀️

y/n’s protection squad

a/n. awww thank you anon, it means a lot <33 i’m glad you liked my works as well >:D thank you for requesting and i hope you enjoy it!! it’s a bit short but i hope you don’t mind >.<

it’s not a continuation but it’s heavily inspired by this lil thing i wrote <3

it was a bad idea.

horrible, actually.

niki was in mood for mischief today and you - as unfortunately - per usual were the victim.

it was supposed to be a lovely day off with your boyfriend, just the two of you since it was weekend. just gaming, napping and probably movie watching.

but no.

firstly, he messed with you while baking so the kitchen was covered with flour.

then he started tickling you.

and now he played a movie, reassuring you it’s a romantic comedy.

you were exhausted because of today’s events that you accepted niki’s weird choice and stayed glued to him like a panda.

while he dozed off, you actually got involved into the movie. and by every passing moment the movie did not seem like a romantic comedy.

when it was nearly the end of the movie, you already felt tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

the movie was about mom and her daughter. they got lost and separated due to some natural catastrophe. after some unfortunate events like getting hurt and robbed, they seemed to get closer.

niki stirred in his sleep and frowned when he didn’t feel your arms wrapped around him. niki lazily opened one one and then another just to see you sitting on your lap, leaning forward and being totally invested in the movie.

right, the movie.

he forgot about it.

niki knew what was coming next so he stood up and excused himself, going to the bathroom. just to hide.

niki didn’t have to wait a long.

"what?" you whispered when the girl took a wrong turn. she was about to meet her mom but she went the wrong way! "no–?!"

niki peeked from the bathroom, analysing the situation.

"no, come back!" you yelled, snatching a pillow and hugging it tightly to your waist "turn around! it’s the wrong way–!"

guilt started washing over the teen. he remembered how the movie really shattered his heart and how many tears were streaming down his cheeks the night he watched it.

"no, no, no–" you mumbled to yourself. even from his safe hiding place niki could see the tears threatening to spill in your eyes. "no!"

niki felt bad.

"what?! this is the end–?" you whined when the ending subtitles suddenly appeared. "NIKI!"

your eyes met his and niki knew he was in trouble. but your features softened and you bursted into tears, hiding your face in your hands.

he didn’t know if he should be relieved that you didn’t threw yourself to claw his eyes out or if he should be… sad. he did not wanted to make you cry. because, god, it was heartbreaking.

"y/n?" he asked quietly, posture composed as if he was approaching a wild creature.

"niki… they didn’t…" you sniffled, looking up. your teary eyes made his heart ache. what have he done…

"i know, y/n." niki whispered, letting his silly facade down. he came up to you, sitting down.

"why they didn’t…?" you continued to cry, leaning on his shoulder. niki wrapped his arm around you, soothingly rubbing your back. "why… why would you EVEN RECOMMEND THIS MOVE TO ME?!"

here it is.

niki yelled, jumping back as you started smacking his arms.

"I’M SORRY I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FUNNY!" he laughed, trying to loosen up the tension but if looks could kill, he’d be dead.

"WHAT?! FUNNY?! YOU… YOU…–" you hit his arm with a fist.

"ow?! y/n!" niki scoffed dramatically

"IDIOT!" you huffed answer turned around to grab a pillow and load it onto his head.

but as you turned back to face him, you saw the rest of enhypen in the hallway.

"UGH!" you groaned and took advance of confused niki, launching the pillow at this head.

"y/n, come on–!" niki turned around, pouting.

"why is y/n crying?" sunoo asked, rushing towards you.

"because he… he…" you started, the images of heart shattering movie flashing before your eyes. and a bright perspective of niki getting scolded.

"did niki hurt you?" heeseung sent the younger one a dangerous glare and crossed his eyes.

"they broke up, you fools" sunghoon gasped dramatically, shaking his head

"WHAT–!" niki yelped as they all rushed to you, to close you in a tight hug. as you were sobbing, jungwon turned around.

"niki, i’m disappointed in you. y/n is a perfect girl, she’s so patient with you and your little pranks and yet you broke up with her? i’m speechless, really" the leader said, coldness in his eyes making niki shiver.

"i couldn’t agree more. she’s our little sister, you know?" jake furrowed his brows and hugged you closer, patting your head. niki could see a mischievous smile forming on your lips.

"but we– she’s– that’s not…?!" he was out of words.

"im gonna beat you up" jay suddenly said, pointing his finger at niki.

suddenly you snorted with laughter. quickly realising your mistake, you hid your face in jake’s hoodie.

jay smiled softly when he noticed how niki’s expression relaxed. the teen was trying so hard to look like he doesn’t care about you but… he’s whipped, he can’t hide that.

"what?" jungwon asked, crossing his arms.

"i’m trying to tell you that we didn’t break up. i just recommend y/n a sad movie and she was mad at me for doing that" niki huffed. the faces of his older members turned into relieved ones (but jay did not hesitate to smack his arm). "ow?"

"i don’t know what would i do if you broke up, honestly. as much as i love you, niki, y/n is just my best friend. well, sister" sunoo cooed, nodding his head. you finally showed your face, mischievous glint in your eyes.

"she literally has the devil horns right now, look how happy she is he got scolded" heeseung laughed, ruffling your hair.

"look, i’d be happy too. we’re y/n’s protection squad" jake grinned and you poked your tongue at niki.

fine, you won this one.

but he couldn’t help but feel relieved that you weren’t no longer crying. and he took a mental note not to make you cry again (not only because it breaks his heart but also for his own good)…

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist: @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @lhsng ,, @ethereallino

[my-reality-my-rules]

Hey there!! First of all I'd like to say that I absolutely love your acc you're my fav acc on tumblr <3 So Thank you so much

Anddd my question is that I've seen many people say that intention is the key like you have to FULLY believe that you are gonna shift and I've been doing that like last night I was sooo sure that the moment I open my eyes I'm gonna be there but I woke up in my cr soo like if you could maybe share your thoughts on that...I may have had some doubts now that I look back on it but I would like to know what else should I do to set the intention.

Ps: I fully believe in shifting<3

[thanks for this ask!]

hi! I'm glad you enjoy the content ((:

the stuff below are divided a bit differently from how i usually do so—and i apologise if it looks a bit chunky lmao. i had a steady flow of ideas writing this and didn't want to break it off.

[also, the first tip's a bit short—AND I JUST WANTED TO SAY SORRY BUT I DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO CONTINUE IT BC I'VE MENTIONED THIS ONE IN PREVIOUS POSTS ALREADY]

- - -

(1)

first; one of the things I've noticed when i try to do the intention method is that it's linked to emotion. i don't truly know if that happens with others, but that's what works for me. the more emotionally agitated i am, the higher my chances are of being able to succeed with the method. emotions give me adrenaline, and that gives me excess energy—which i would then plan to burn off.

what better way to spend it than a shifting attempt? I've been able to shift with the intention method around three times, though the last one was a mini-shift.

- - -

(2)

it's not only about fully believing, in my opinion. I've mentioned this before, but self-trust is also a key for conviction. if, somewhere deep inside, your doubts run strong, how are you going to take that little leap of faith? i remember answering a private message with the same words. to quote what i said:

and, well, in short, i had to learn how to trust myself. if you're forcing yourself to do something, it means you don't have the confidence to pull through with it. while it's not bad to have some doubt when shifting, letting it cripple you is not a choice. what's the point of doing something you'd dedicate so much of yourself to, and have it fall flat? i get that not everything gives you the chance to have do-overs, but morale is what always seals it. carl fredricksen was able to make a trip to paradise falls, despite being without his wife, despite having been stuck in misery for so long. julius caesar, despite being the arrogant shit he was, paid the ransom the pirates had asked for, and still went on with his promise to kill them all. you see where i'm going with this? whether a goal is short-term or long-term, whether it's a dream or a wish, a purpose is a purpose. that's one thing you can always remember, at the very least. trust yourself, that you have the ability to make things right, even if it takes so long, or even if it's just for you. confidence, even if it's under the fake-it-'til-you-make-it situation, goes a long way.

[sorry if it's a bit long—i got a bit lazy to paraphrase what i said lmao]

take the reins, and ease yourself into the knowledge that you're about to enter a new reality.

- - -

(3)

if you're still worried about waking up in your CR, here's a tip i found. this had been me at a low point; i scripted that my eyes would open 'naturally'. i took inspiration from a tiktok I've seen and tried it out for myself.

basically, if you're conscious enough to recognise you're in a dream (lucid or not), or feel as if you're already shifting (but just need that final push)—you continue to keep your eyes closed. excitement is good, but don't rush it. try to feel your eyelids, and keep them shut. wait for them to naturally open, until you suddenly wake up. you know that quick moment when you just open your eyes after resting? wait for that to happen.

it's somewhat of a 50-50 for me, though. it doesn't always happen when I'm aware I'm dreaming (because sometimes, i just tend to forget). but it did help at some point, and I'd recommend it. i remember dreaming of snow and laughter—i don't recall who i was thinking of, but their presence felt familiar. i also remember trying to open my eyes—but some part of me said no, to keep them as they were, and let things happen as is.

i woke up in my naruto DR! I've barely paid attention to it these past months, but I've finally come back to it. i woke up roughly around the same time i left. I'd just laid down on the futon in my room and stared at snowfall. [i lowkey still find it weird that it snows in fire country, of all places]. i was physically too tired to do anything, but my mind had been alert enough, at least. nothing grand happened, i just sat there people watching.

- - -

(4)

at some point, i also tried coming up with one more way to trick my mind into thinking I'll wake up in my DR. it's somewhat a mix of the julia and sunni method(s). in sunni, you use your five senses. in julia, you repeat affirmations. the issue lied with the fact that i have a bad memory and attention span—so recollection and visualisation can be a pain sometimes.

one night, as i was shifting to my HP DR, i tried to pretend going to sleep as if I'm already there. does that phrasing make sense? like, as i go to bed here in my CR, i switch my mindset into that of my DR self.

here, to clarify; my CR name is leigh, but my DR name is esther. in my CR, instead of going to sleep thinking as leigh, who thinks she'll just be waking up in the other reality—i go to sleep thinking as esther, who thinks she'll be waking up to another day at hogwarts. that's the sunni method part of it. trick your senses to make your mind think you're already someone else, somewhere else.

here's the julia method part. my way of solidifying that is through the affirmations. leigh tries to console herself with the hope to shift, but esther looks forward to waking up and going to class. leigh will say affirmations like: I am going to wake up cuddling with my cat or I am on my bed, in the Ravenclaw dorms. but esther would say things like: I will try to finish the essay on the gods of Mesopotamia by 5AM later or I promised my cousin we'll have some quidditch practice on Sunday.

the more casual and specific the affirmation is, the more likely you're going to believe it. don't go for a vague I am a powerful shifter when shifting—save that for manifestation. say things you're going to do in your DR. take a bath, take a shit, water your garden, brush your hair, read a book, talk to friends, sleep. the more relatable it is, the more you'll feel at home. and the more you think of that, the higher your chances are of actually feeling as if you're there already.

- - -

i just want to apologise again for the short tip at the start. I've mentioned it quite a few times in other posts, so just feel free to check them out.

i do hope i could provide some help with this! once again, much love, and happy shifting ❤️❤️

[spacedikut]

starstruck ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary:  “Can I request some age gap Spencer x reader. Maybe he’s nervous about approaching her for a relationship bc she’s younger, but he’s so goofy for her it’s he’s in love obvious. Pretty pls 🥺💕” 5222 words

a/n: i didn’t specify ages cause i wasn’t sure what people would be comfortable with so i just mentioned an age gap and leave the rest up to you!! i would happily date someone twice my age but i also have daddy issues so :)

masterlist

The day has finally arrived.

Mollie can call you a nerd all she wants, but you know the second she lays eyes on Derek Morgan or Emily Prentiss she’ll change her tune.

This event has been in the university’s calendar since the beginning of the semester. At least two members of the FBI Behavioural Analysis Unit were promised to give a talk about their department, even taking you through a solved case like an interactive documentary, to encourage students to consider joining the academy post-graduation. There was whispers they’d even stick around after to answer some questions.

Your other friend, Jen, the one that understands your excitement, wrote your names down for tickets immediately. You’ve had a countdown on your phone ever since.

“They’ve announced a last-minute guest,” She beams, just as giddy as you. You’re wasting time at the coffee house near the auditorium, waiting for Mollie to arrive.

“Oh, really? Who?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

You almost drop your cookie in shock and stare at her, pupils blown.

“You’re a big fan?” She smirks.

As nonchalantly as you can, you lean back in your chair, “I’m a fan of his work, yes.”

“Oh, his work?”

“Don’t start.”

“I bet you love his work.”

“He’s well-versed and his papers are super interesting-“

“His papers are super interesting-“

“You are a child.”

Just then, Mollie appears, checking her watch. You wish you could kiss her in thanks for saving you from the teasing that would likely never end. “We’re gonna be late for your morbid seminar if you two don’t stop bickering.”

Jen downs the rest of her drink, you shove the last of the cookie in your mouth. Mollie watches your excitement in amusement – your heart starts pumping, whole body buzzing, the same nervousness you felt when you were a preteen right before your first ever One Direction concert. It’s the kind of nervousness that makes your palms sweaty.

Is it evolution or devolution to go from sweating over One Direction to sweating over FBI profilers?

+++

The seminar goes on for an hour, including the questions people ask throughout. It’s everything you could’ve asked for, entertaining and so, so informative and although you weren’t considering joining the FBI before, suddenly it’s all you can think about. Guest speakers have that affect, don’t they? They make you wonder if you should drastically change everything you’ve been planning.

Even Mollie, who you had to threaten to tag along, ended up enjoying herself. “Maybe I learnt a thing or two,” She’d said, rolling her eyes playfully.

You and your friends are some of the last to leave. There’s quite the bustling outside, which you assume is just post-seminar chatter, but you and Jen falter in your steps when you see the exact profilers that had been onstage several minutes ago in front of you, happily interacting and talking to fellow students.

“Oh, man,” Jen whispers, her and Mollie making eye contact across you. “I have to see if I can talk to Emily.”

Mollie encourages her with a frantic, “Go! Go!” while you’re rooted in place. Mollie jabs you with a pointed nail, “You in there, Y/N? I’m sure you have loads of questions for them-“

You stutter and shake your head, “N-no. I’m good. You can try and hit on Derek, if you want.”

You give a half-attempt at a smile, barely lifting the corners of your lips. Mollie recognises that look. She wants to stay with you, check you’re not too overwhelmed, but you shoo her away and send her towards Derek. You breathe a sigh of relief – you’ve been friends with her long enough that she knows when you need space.

There’s something about seeing people you admire so abruptly that totally throws you for a loop. All you had prepared for was seeing them from afar and subsequently talking about it forever, but nothing beyond that. In some circumstances, it’d be a pleasant surprise, but for someone that struggles around strangers and especially around people as admirable as profilers, you are not mentally prepared for this and have therefore shut down.

But then you see him.

He’s shuffling in place in the corner of the room, close to a large potted plant like it’s his only friend. He’s nibbling his lip as his eyes flutter around, never staying somewhere for longer than a second, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

Why is no one talking to him? He’s Spencer Reid.

There’s a couple of people surrounding Emily, fully entranced by whatever story she’s relaying, another few people around Derek, chortling at a joke he just made. Spencer glances between them and their audiences, and you can’t help but wonder why he isn’t right next to them, chatting away, too.

Does he not want to talk to anyone?

You should talk to him.

No. He probably wants to be alone.

Or what if he doesn’t and no one else is talking to him which means you can have a one-on-one conversation? What about that?

Are you insane?

…

You have to talk to him.

Before you can change your mind, you’re approaching him with a tight grip on the handle of your bag, pushing it higher up your shoulder. He spots you and makes eye contact just as you stop in front of him, and you notice he momentarily tightens his grip on his satchel.

Was this a bad idea?

“Hi,” You breathe, “I’m Y/N. A big fan.”

His eyes widen a fraction, which you don’t understand because why else would you be here, but he smiles nonetheless, “Hi, I’m, uh, Spencer Reid.”

“I know.”

“Yes, you know. That makes sense, because you were in the seminar. I saw you.”

Now you’re shocked. For as long as you can remember you never sit in the centre of a room, where most attention seems to go, so how did he-

“I-I always scan the room I’m in its.. it’s not a creepy thing, I swear. I’m not creepy.”

A laugh escapes you at that, making him visibly relax. “I don’t think you’re creepy. There was just.. a lot of people in there, so I’m surprised you remember my face.” You shrug.

I couldn’t forget such a beautiful face.

You don’t know what happens, but Spencer suddenly tenses up. His back straightens and he looks alarm, stiff.

Did he just think that? What.. why did he think that?

You wonder if you’ve said something wrong, so you try to change the topic.

“I-I have a question, if you don’t mind answering.”

Spencer nods with an of course, and when the question rolls off your tongue, his mind is still reeling from subconsciously calling you beautiful in his head. It’s not untrue, but it feels.. inappropriate. He doesn’t know why. But you are beautiful.

As he scans your face, now much closer than in the auditorium, he realises yeah, you are incredibly beautiful.

You wave a hand in front of his face, “Doctor Reid?”

“Sorry, yes, sorry. What are you studying?”

There’s a light in your eyes that Spencer recognises when you say, “Psychology.”

“Thought so.”

“You probably talk to a lot of psychology students. I-um. I almost went to Caltech,” Spencer raises an eyebrow, "After I read your dissertation, it really inspired me to look into it – your dissertation is incredible, by the way.”

Spencer smiles bashfully, a futile attempt to not allow the grin to overtake his face, and thanks you, “I appreciate it. Actually, I was sixteen when I wrote it.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Your eyes widen, “You’re insane! You’re amazing!”

The praise bursts from you, and his blushing face makes you oddly proud. On the other hand, Spencer feels like you’ve set him alight, his blood pumping loudly in his ears, as he’s unable to tear his eyes away from your smile.

He desperately needs to change the topic.

“To answer your question…”

Derek notices you two interacting across the room. Mollie sees him looking and hums, “Oh, that’s Y/N, my best friend. She really likes Spencer.”

Derek raises an eyebrow, “Looks like he really likes her.”

“Don’t tell her that. She’ll collapse.”

They both watch you for a second, Spencer flailing his arms as he explains, you eagerly adding to his rambling, asking a question here and exclaiming some kind of encouragement there. It’s sweet, Derek thinks.

“Hey..” Mollie begins, a scheming look in her eye, “We’re planning to hang out in the campus bar later. It’s open to all and the drinks are cheap. If you and Emily happen to find yourselves looking for something to do and you drag Spencer along.. I’m sure Y/N would like it.”

“I like the way you think,” Derek says, “I’ll see what I can do.”

+++

“She’s getting hit on. Again.” You giggle, gesturing for Jen to turn around and witness Mollie get your drinks paid for by a random guy.

She’s always been a people person – it’s saved you hundreds on nights out.

All Jen does is glance over her shoulder, scoff, then turn her sceptical eyes to you.

“I saw you and Spencer Reid.” She says, twinkling eyes. She’s trying not to look smug.

“I almost proposed to him.” You joke, taking your drink from Mollie with a mumbled thanks.

“Oh, I bet you did,” She laughs, “You two looked sooo good together.”

“Alright,” You slide a shot to each girl, “I know you’re making fun of me, but I’m taking that compliment and cherishing it. Spencer Reid is cute, what of it?!”

You clink the shot glasses with your friends and down them, all wincing at the taste and giggling at Jen when she takes a gulp of her cocktail to wash away the taste of straight vodka.

“How did talking to Derek and Emily go?”

And then Jen starts chattering away.

You miss the bar door opening behind you, But Mollie notices. She’s been watching the door since they got here, conveniently choosing the table with the best view, just in case some profilers decided to stop by.

Derek catches Mollie’s eye and winks.

“Well I never,” Mollie fakes shock, “Look who just walked through the doors.”

You turn and choke on your drink. Emily and Derek look relax, like they’re home, but Spencer?

He looks just like he did earlier: like there’s a million places he’d rather be.

He’s lost the blazer he was wearing earlier, leaving him in a fitted purple shirt with a matching tie. With the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, you can see his firm hands and the silver watch that rests on his wrist – is it possible for a watch to be sexy? Or maybe it’s just cause he’s sexy?

That shot must be getting to you.

“What the hell are they doing here?” You hiss, a sharp whisper piercing the air as you turn and (terribly) try to hide your face.

But Spencer’s seen you. He spotted you the moment they came in – he recognised your clothes and your hair – and the second he did he turned right back around to exit the bar. Derek’s arm stopped him at his chest, like he does to unsubs, forcefully turning him around and laughing when Spencer tensed up.

“What, Reid? Scared of a pretty girl?” Derek teases, much like he’d been doing since he spoke to you earlier.

“I am scared of college girls, yes. Last time I was in a college bar I was twelve and downed shots of apple juice.”

“What?!” Both Emily and Derek stop short, looks of disbelief at the revelation. “You’ve never mentioned that.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“We,” Derek places his hands on Spencer’s shoulders, directing him to your table, “Are just gonna have a few drinks and talk to a few people, and then you’re gonna explain that apple juice story in explicit detail- hey ladies!”

Jen and Mollie look overjoyed at the new company, while you stare rigidly with distinctive what the fuck eyes.

“Would you mind if we joined you?” Emily asks, with a sparkling grin that no one could say no to.

“Of course not,” Jen grins, like it’s the most obvious answer.

The empty seat next to you is taken by Spencer (Derek discreetly shoves him) but right before he’s firmly placed on the stool, Emily calls out, “Spence, why don’t you get us some drinks? You still owe us after you lost that game of gin..”

“I didn’t lose.” Spencer huffs indignantly, “You cheated.”

Despite his grunts, he stands to make his way to the bar, but not before-

“Y/N!” Mollie beams, “It’s your turn to get the round, if you’d be so kind.”

You know that look on her face. You hate her, you realise, but you also love her because being alone with Spencer sends a thrill through you.

Alone with Spencer. What the hell are you supposed to say to him?

You follow him to the bar. He leans against it with an awkward smile.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey.”

“It’s uh.. it’s been a long time since we’ve seen eachother.” It’s a half attempt at a joke, followed by instant regret. But then you giggle and everything feels right in the world, even Spencer’s sucky joke.

“It has been a while, Doctor Reid.” You say. The bartender approaches, takes your orders, then you turn to Spencer, “What brings you to a college bar, of all places?”

“Well,” Spencer glances over your shoulder to your table. He makes eye contact with every single person there, all watching you two interact, and they all sharply turn and try to play it off like they’ve been talking casually. Spencer’s brows furrow a little. “Derek said the drinks are cheap and our hotel is only a couple blocks away. I don’t know, maybe Derek likes college girls.”

You laugh again, and Spencer has to take a second to realise you’re not laughing at him but at what he said about Derek. “Yeah, Derek seems like a real ladies man.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it.” Spencer grins, “We once timed him to see how long it would take to get a girls number and he did it in five minutes. And he said he was having a bad day.”

The drinks are placed in front of you. Neither of you notice.

You unconsciously lean closer, saying, “Have you timed it to see how long it takes for a girl to approach him? That’s gotta be, like, maybe ten minutes?”

“Eight minutes and twenty-three seconds.”

“Well damn. Has he always been so…” A hand gestures in the air, looking for the word.

“Promiscuous?”

“I was gonna say free.”

“Free?” Spencer giggles, “That’s very nice of you.”

You shrug, “I don’t judge.” Spencer agrees, and it slips out, “What about you?”

You wish you could shove the words back in your mouth. Even more so when his expression changes. You can’t entirely make out what it is, but even in the dimly lit bar you can see the flush of heat that spreads through his cheeks to his ears.

“Are you asking me if I’m free with the ladies?” He murmurs, suppressing a grin.

You give an awkward laugh, wondering if you’ve overstepped a boundary, “Yeah. But that’s kinda weird to ask, so-“

“I’m so popular with the ladies it puts Derek to shame.”

You can’t hide your surprise. “What? Really?”

Spencer caves. “No. Is it that hard to believe I’m a ladies man?”

“Compared to Derek? Yes.”

Spencer scoffs.

+++

“As adorable as they are, it’s been thirty minutes.” Emily sighs. “I want my drink.”

“They’re bonding,” Jen sends a wistful look, “I’m so proud.”

“I’m guessing Y/N isn’t the most social either?” Derek asks, proudly watching you interact.

“She’s the best, just a little shy sometimes.” She smiles at you, even though you can’t see, “She’s an idiot, but our idiot, you know?”

Both Emily and Derek laugh airily, nodding with a, “Yeah, we know.”

At once, three phones vibrate throughout the bar – Emily, Derek and Spencer. They’re instantly filled with disappointment; Derek can’t watch Spencer attempt to flirt with a girl he’s obviously interested in, Emily still hasn’t got a drink, and Spencer has to leave you and he can’t think of anything worse.

He’s clearly hesitant when he looks at his phone. How does he say goodbye? Does he ask for your number? Would that be weird? That would be weird.

“Uhh…”

You channel every ounce of liquid courage you have in your body and offer, “Would it be weird if I gave you my number? Just.. for anything. Anything at all.”

Spencer nods, a gentle look in his eyes and a smile on his face, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You mumble an alright, accepting Spencer’s phone and creating a new contact for yourself.

Please text me. You think. Please text me.

+++

He doesn’t text.

It’s been a week. A week. You know how cases are, some take longer than others and some are solved in literal hours, but it’s been a week, Spencer goddamn Reid, so why haven’t you texted me.

That’s when the doubt creeps in. Your friends keep telling you he’ll text, that he’s just busy (“He’s an FBI agent, Y/N. If you start dating you’re gonna have to get used to lapses in contact.” To which you’re too distracted choking at the mention of you two dating), but you can’t help but wonder if he took your number simply so he could leave quicker. He had a case to get to, after all. He had people to save.

Now you feel guilty. You forced your number on him, didn’t you? Oh God, he hates you. He hates you and you forced your number on him and he hasn’t texted you because he’s filing a restraining order against you because he hates you.

Mollie tells you you need a nap.

+++

Spencer spends the time on the jet back from the case staring at your number. He has it memorised, of course, and has had it memorised from the first time he read it, of course, but he can’t bring himself to do anything with it.

All he’s done is change your contact picture from the standard first letter of your name to a cute picture of a frog Garcia sent him. It reminds him of you.

Derek lowers his headphones, “You texted her yet, Pretty Boy?”

“Huh? Uh, no. I don’t think I will.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer shrugs, locking his phone and placing it face down. “I don’t think anything would come from it.”

“Kid,” Derek leans forward, eyebrows furrowed, “You two talked for well over thirty minutes in the middle of a college bar about God knows what. Maybe I’m easy to impress, but that seemed pretty special to me.”

“How is talking in a college bar worth anything?”

“Because you’re Reid, who, most of the time, has to be physically dragged into a bar. You hate talking to strangers about anything other than work. Y/N? A stranger. What did you two talk about?”

“We talked about you a little.”

“Uhuh. About how good I am at my job?”

“God, no,” Spencer scrunches his nose, “We talked about your charm with the ladies.”

Derek falls back in his chair and scoffs, “I’m flattered, but that doesn’t sound like work-talk to me. So you’re comfortable with her. I saw you laughing, so she makes you laugh, too. Sounds pretty great to me.”

Spencer stares. Derek’s right, but..

“So what is it, Reid?”

Spencer licks his lips. “Do you think she’s too young for me?”

Derek rarely looks taken aback, but he does now, “Too young?”

“She’s in college. I’m-I’m-“

“A legal adult. As is she.”

Spencer slumps. “A 2014 Current Population Survey found the average difference for a heterosexual couple is two-point-three years, with the man older than the woman. Even if you double that, that’s still less than me and Y/N-“

“Four years isn’t a lot, Spence,”

“You just.. you don’t think it’s weird?”

“No. Do you?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.”

Derek’s conviction gives Spencer some reassurance, but he can’t help himself when he thinks that.. maybe.. you’ll find him boring. Most people seem to, with all his statistics and figures and facts, but with the added element of you living it up at college.. how could he compete?

“I think you’re worrying over nothing, Reid. You haven’t even texted her, and you’re already worrying about stuff like age gaps?” Derek crosses his hands and looks at Spencer with determination, “She gave you her number. She initiated it. She knows who you are, so she knows how old you are and it doesn’t seem to make her uncomfortable. So, why should it make you?”

Spencer just grunts.

“Are you worried people will say things?”

“I guess.”

“People always say things. You know that better than anyone. So screw ‘em.”

Spencer feels a smile creep onto his face.

And Derek relaxes. He’s planted the seeds, that Spencer is fretting over nothing, now all he’s got to do is wait for Spencer to let it sink in and allow the flowers to bloom and, next thing you know, Spencer’s gonna have himself the perfect girlfriend.

And Derek will take too much credit for it.

+++

“Heeeeeeeeey my precious Doctor…”

Garcia looks like her hand was caught in the cookie jar.

Spencer’s back straightens. “What did you do?”

She looks embarrassed, fiddling with the fluffy pen in her hand. She smiles awkwardly. “Derek may have told me about a pretty little college student that captured your heart, and then he told me you also haven’t texted her yet, so I did a little digging and…”

“You cyber-stalked Y/N?” Emily asks, casually. JJ seems unphased at the discussion. Does everyone in the office know about you?

“I did. I’m guilty. I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist.” She’s speaking a mile a minute.

Emily spares Spencer a glance, “Did you find anything?”

“Well…”

Concern fills Spencer. “Did something happen?”

“I just found some stuff she’d probably only tell a close friend and I feel really bad about it.” Her shoulders are by her ears as she tries to fold in on herself out of guilt, “But other than that she’s a genuinely sweet girl who volunteers at pet shelters and the college library in her free time and we have really similar music tastes so I think we’d make great friends.”

They all look to Spencer, waiting for his reaction. What? Is he supposed to be surprised that you’re the epitome of perfect? He’s not. He studied you the entire time you spoke.

“She’s also written several incredible papers on child development that I think are revolutionary and I totally emailed them to you because I think you should read them. She’s also a genius.”

Spencer’s hand twitches. He ignores the sudden need to check his email.

It’s silent as they just stare at him. He doesn’t say anything and tries not to react, but he does. They notice how his eyes flicker to his phone, how his leg fidgets, the longing in his eyes.

Emily brushes her hair back calmly and asks, “Hey, Pen, when does Y/N work at the college library?”

Penelope doesn’t catch on at first, casually replying, “Oh, basically every day from five pm onwards. They’re a twenty-four hour library and she combines working and studying.” When she sees Emily pointedly look at Spencer, she goes ohhh.

“Good to know,” Emily nods, “Good to know.”

+++

Spencer finds himself at the college library that night.

He wants to say it was an accident, or that he just happens to know there’s a special edition of a specific book here, but he’d be lying. He read your papers between reports, and found himself having a deep appreciation for the way you write – he wants to ready everything you’ve ever written. Every essay, every note, every formal and informal piece of work you’ve ever done.

He’s already fallen in love with the way you write. He doesn’t think he’s far from falling in love with you.

He wanders around the lower floor of the library. It’s impressive, he must admit, and he’s disappointed in himself for not visiting earlier. There’s students everywhere, but he notices some other people mixed in too – professors, businesspeople, as well as parents with their children.

He feels a little less weird for creeping around now.

Not that’s he’s creeping. He’s just.. there. To see a certain someone under the guise of looking for a book.

He moseys for a while, from the fiction section to the non-fiction to comics to autobiographies. You’re nowhere to be found – not between the rows of books, not working on any of the desks, not at the centre reception desk.

Until you’re suddenly behind him.

“Spencer?”

He jumps, looking up from the book he’s reading. Your voice is as calming and smooth as always.

“Y/N. Hi.”

“Hi,” Your brows are furrowed, but you’re not disappointed by the unexpected visitor. “What are you doing here?”

He lifts the book he’s holding, an Arthur Conan Doyle, giving a light lipped smile. “I’m just looking. I didn’t realise the college library was so plentiful – did you know the oldest library in the world dates from the seventh century BC?”

“I do, actually.” You point to a poster behind him, which displays that exact fact, “I thought dotting facts around the library would be interesting for the kids. They seem to like them.”

“Learning in young children is socially mediated, so good quality learning environments outside of their schools is crucial for children’s development. So, in a way, you’re enriching their lives beyond understanding.”

You’re flattered at his somewhat far-fetched attempt at complimenting you. It makes your heart flutter.

Why didn’t you contact me, you dimwit?

You open your mouth to ask another question, ask if there’s something he needs help finding, when he beats you to it.

With a firm grip, he slams the book he’s reading shut and says, “I’m lying.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t come here to.. look around. I came here to see you.”

“Oh.”

Spencer doesn’t know what to make of that. You haven’t awkwardly looked away, or stepped back to increase the distance between you. That means something good, right?

“You didn’t text me, so I assumed you weren’t interested.” Your brows twitch, and you back-pedal, “Unless you purposely didn’t text me because you actually weren’t interested and you might be here to see me but for something book-related rather than me-related and I’ve totally humiliated myself.”

“No, no. You’re right. You’re right.” He fiddles with the book in shame, “I should’ve texted you. I just didn’t know what to say and.. Well, it’s stupid.”

Your head jerks a little to the side, something he’s noticed you do a lot, looking patient and too pretty for him to handle. “I’m sure it’s not stupid.”

Spencer thinks back to his conversation with Derek, specifically the reminder that you gave him your number which means you initiated this so yes, you are interested in him.

It’s just.. when he looks at you, he struggles to believe it a little. You’re breath-taking.  

“I’m worried I’ll bore you.” He starts light, easing you into what’s been troubling him. He’s emboldened by the fact you’re clearly frustrated he didn’t text you.

You give him a look of horror, “The first time we met I told you I loved your dissertation on geographic regression. I definitely do not think you’re anything anywhere near boring.”

“Okay,” He nods, “What about our ages?”

You’re confused. “What about it?”

Spencer mirrors your expression. “It doesn’t.. bother you?”

“Does it.. bother you?”

Usually, answering a question with a question is a sign of deflection, a sign of hiding something. However he doesn’t know why, but Spencer trusts you with his life. Maybe not his life. Maybe his heart.

“Does that silence mean yes?”

He shakes his head, “No. It doesn’t bother me. I just worry that, you know, college years are the so-called best years of your life and I don’t want you to regret being with me, someone older than you, and resent me for it, or something-“

“I think you’re getting way in your head, Spence.” You laugh a little, “We haven’t gone on a single date and you’ve convinced yourself of so much already. For the record, no, your age doesn��t bother me in the slightest. It never has and I doubt it ever will. I think you’re the most fascinating and interesting person on this planet, and if anyone is getting bored with anyone I’m pretty confident it’ll be you getting sick of me. And,” You take a breath, “I think I’m old enough to know what I want, who I want, and what I want is you. If you want me, too.”

Spencer shoves the book back into the bookshelf with a satisfying sound, then turns and quickly places a kiss onto your cheek. It’s completely unexpected and, quite frankly, not something you’d expect from Doctor Reid, but you blush and there’s a definite red colour to Spencer’s cheeks, too.

“I will never, ever, get sick of you.” He says, voice small but firm. “But I don’t want you to regret being with me. Promise me you won’t.”

You give him a look that tells him you think he’s ridiculous. “I promise that I won’t regret being with you. I’d like us to last as long as possible, if I can be picky.”

“I’d like that, too.” He murmurs. The thought of you wanting him for as long as possible almost sends him into a frenzy. He wants to kiss you all over.

You stand close and talk quietly for a while, a little more discussion on a possible date that weekend and a constant stream of compliments from you to Spencer and vice versa, before you realise the time.

“I should probably go. I have a paper to finish.” You smile sadly, a tiny pout forming.

“I understand. Do you think I could read it? When you’re done?”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “Do you know how terrifying the idea of the Spencer Reid reading my work is? But yes, anything for you.”

Anything for you. Are you trying to kill him?

You turn to leave, refusing to admit how sad leaving Spencer makes you feel, when you stop, “One more thing.”

Spencer hums. He’s not fully paying attention, praying to whatever Gods exist that killers take a break on the weekend so he can take you out on the sweetest date.

“If age is a sore area for you,” There’s mirth in your eyes and Spencer prepares himself, “Does that mean the nickname old man is off the table?”

His lips purse and move towards his nose as he narrows his eyes, giving you a look of faux annoyance, “I am not an old man.”

“Sounds like you’re sensitive, old man.”

As you walk away, you jokingly blow him a kiss to add insult to injury. His pretend glare lasts until your back is turned and he feels his gaze softening to something akin to love.

Spencer thins if the rest of his life is this, you teasing him with that twinkle in your eye and smile on your face, then life is truly the most beautiful thing.

[hawksky]

Gojo Satoru | He Hits You Up After His Ex Dies

A/N: Inspired by this twitter account run by my friend called Bare Minimum Simps. I can’t believe I wrote this (also literally haven’t written anything non academic in 10+ yrs). MANGA SPOILERS, shifted manga timeline to occur in adulthood. I wasn’t going to write this and post so soon but i just want @megumifushi​ to have some dumb shit to laugh at be nice to her she’s precious.

this is not angst, this is pure crack should not exist

CW: mentions of sex no explicit descriptions

You were honestly surprised to see his name light up your screen. A swarm of butterflies filled your stomach upon hearing the distinct tone -- it was a reflex and honestly you were pretty disgusted with yourself for it. He’s only ever called you for one reason. And he stopped calling you long ago for a very good reason: He started dating the love of his life. The same love of his life that just fell off the deep end leaving Jujutsu Tech behind. The very same love of his life that just died, by his own hands, in front of a KF fucking C. 

You answer the call, voice tentative, truly unsure what was on the other end of line. 

“Gojo? Are you alright? Why are you calling me?” You were friends, but you hadn’t heard from him since he killed Suguru; he spent most of his days bouncing between Shoko and Nanami.

“Aw princess” He crooned. You berated yourself for the way face burned at the sound of his voice calling you that long forgotten nickname. Suguru’s body is barely cold and here you are nervous like a high schooler again “I thought you’d be happy to hear from me after all this time! Sorry we never got to the threesome you always wanted, but I thought there’s no reason we can’t --”

You cut him off, shocked that he could be so glib, that he would even think to suggest this. “I know you’ve lost a lot recently Gojo, and I’m here for you. I really am” You stress your words as you sit there wide eyed barely able to wrap your mind around what you’re hearing “but have you lost your goddamn mind? He’s barely been gone and you’re already thinking of having sex with me?” “Ah y/n-chan, Sugu would’ve wanted this for me, really I’m just honouring him by attempting to honour your body. I haven’t touched you in sooo long” His voice suddenly shifts, any attempt at keeping this conversation light abandoned “I miss your soft gasps as I enter you, watching your unaffected facade drop with the lightest touch, the way you look bouncing on top of me, how pretty it is to watch you cry and beg for release” 

You get lost in his voice, in the image he painted, the way his vulgar words didn’t match the reverence in his voice. You let it go on for too long before you return to your senses. “Sato, what are you even saying right now? How is this even on your mind? Do you have even a little bit of trauma?” There’s a pause. You close your eyes in an attempt to brace yourself for whatever response could have him thinking this hard. “My trauma has nothing to do with me wanting to have sex with you, can a poor widower not be horny?” You slump against your couch, shaking your head in disbelief “You’re truly hopeless, and a gigantic asshole, I can’t believe I was worried about you for even a second” Another beat of silence fills the air. 

“Soooooo I’ll be at your place in 10?” “... Yeah my door code is the same” you respond in defeat before ending the call.

You get up and begin to pace around, trying to burn off the nervous excitement bubbling inside of your body, feeling betrayed by all parts of yourself in this moment. Was it truly this easy to fall into Gojo again? How strong was his hold over you that you could abandon the bare minimum morality with almost no effort? Why did him calling you for this make you feel special and warm inside?

You pinch your nose in shame before peering out at the setting sun over the Tokyo skyline. You hoped he was right about Suguru wanting this, or else your eternal damnation was going to be a whole lot more awkward.

@sandyscastle​ @nokkusu​

[fanfictiondreamscape]

First Kisses (Haikyuu - pt. 1)

Title: First Kisses (Haikyuu - pt. 1)

Genre: fluff, tons of it

Pairing: Sugawara/Tsukishima/Yaku/Akaashi/Kunimi x reader (all separate)

Notes: Nothing too unusual, but I thought that I’d start the posting to get something on the page. Whether it gets read, we’ll find out, but I couldn’t help myself. Onto the cliche headcanons. (I may do more of these, but for the time being, this will only consist of my top five characters in the anime). Quick note: some of these may be longer than others. 

Only a forewarning, but inspiration hit harder in certain areas, y’know. 

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Masterlist

Sugawara Koushi

ok so

hear me out here, but I think that - for this to happen - it’d be with someone very shy.

someone that’s very shy and reserved while also remaining very aloof and observant

(maybe even a little sarcastic?)

like...he’d be attracted to their air, y’know? 

as for the kiss...

the kiss itself would be done somewhere fairly private. and a little covered in shadow

someplace like the back row of a movie theater or the hidden corner of a cafe or restaurant. maybe even out in public when nobody’s outside (read: late night walk in the park) 

like seriously, just imagine that, i swear-

ANYWAYS

the two of you would be holding hands, he’d be admiring you while you’re doing whatever you do

he thinks everything you do is adorable, and he can’t help but admire you

it’s only when you notice his googly eyes that you let him know that you know he was staring

he’d blush a little, but remain generally composed. 

the quiet would be broken very suddenly by suga

“your so cute when you’re focused.” 

little did you know, you were pouting. 

he found that the most adorable.

he continued to watch you as you turned your eyes to the floor

oH BOY DID HIS HEART FLUTTER-

he couldn’t help himself. 

time seemed to slow down as you looked up and he leaned in closer. 

eventually, the two of you were staring into each others eyes

and once he peeked down for a millisecond, he kissed you

the kiss itself was very sweet, very gentle, but also had a slight bite to it? 

(how am I supposed to explain this? does this even make any sense?) 

as it got more passionate, he cupped your cheek with his hand as you gripped his shoulder lightly 

as the two of you pulled away from each other, everything around you was a little blurry 

even through the shadows, he could see that you were blushing a firetruck red

(little did he know, he was blushing the same color)

overall, the first kiss between you two would be very romantic and very sweet. 

considering it’s suga, though, prepare for a little teasing and a tight hug afterwards.

Tsukishima Kei

OK

THIS BOI I SWEAR- 

it’s a well known fact that this beanpole is very obnoxious and snarky

so his s/o would be very much the same

maybe not as introverted, but very much sarcastic and witty

in order to last with this smartass, you’d have to be intelligent and have thick skin

good luck

otherwise, the kiss would most likely happen somewhere very private.

like his s/o’s room or his room, or when they’re home alone. 

just somewhere very private and comfy

now here’s the thing- 

i think the kiss itself would happen in the midst of a debate

something to throw the other off, y’know?

sooo...

the TV is playing in the background, probably some movie with a huge plot hole

it annoys both of you, but the two of you have two different opinions of how the plot hole could be fixed. 

like...

you’re claiming that the timeline could be fixed had they found a certain item before a different one

and he’s claiming that the timeline could be fixed without the inclusion of either item

a whole back-and-forth ensues

the kiss itself though

that happens when you are starting to hesitate with comebacks and reasoning

like-

you know you’re right, but he’s pressing your buttons so much

the timeline is heavily dependent on the items that you stand by, so

(though he won’t admit it, he knows that the items are beneficial to the plot, and he’s only doing this to see you get flustered and red)

since tsukki’s not backing down, you decide that you have to do something drastic

something that’ll make the smart mouth speechless

so you decide that the time is now

when he’s looking at you with that smug look on his face, his mouth just slightly opened and about to make some baseless remark

you lean in and kiss him

it’s very short, very light

but now that he is shocked, you’re happy. 

except...

he regains his composure and tilts your head to meet him

he kisses you this time

this time, its very passionate, a little rough, and a little messy

but the both of you enjoy it very much

the two of you act like nothing happened, but it’s the little moments like that that make the two of you happy

and you two tend to kiss and get a little more clingy in private-

overall, very short and kind of sneaky. 

there’s still love behind it, of course

but there’s no real ‘pause’ or slowing of time until the second kiss

Yaku Morisuke

now-

i believe that this guy would be drawn to someone that’s very bubbly and energetic

not like yamamoto or lev, but very high-energy and outgoing

which also leads to the setting

A VOLLEYBALL GAME!

who tf would’ve guessed, oh my-

so like, the team is going up against a really powerful and notoriously defensive team

and while Nekoma is going HARD

they’re still behind

the sets were even and the odds did not seem to be in their favor

you’re in the stands, next to the mini yamamoto and lev’s sister 

cheering loudly, helping lev’s sister understand the game a little better

anyway...

things are getting tough, and they call a time out

when Nekoma goes to their spot to discuss

you make eye contact with yaku 

and you send him a thumbs up while mouthing ‘you got this!’

he sends you a big smile

and his upbeat mood almost completely lifts the slowly dengenerating one of the team

so when they are done elaborating a game plan following the slight loss of a flow

the members in play go onto the court rejuvenated. 

with the new energy, they’re able to snag the lead 

and, with a three-point difference, they win 25-22

a close call, but they’re excited nonetheless.

so are you and the girls that you were cheering with

as soon as they are finished lining up and people start to leave

you immediately run out of the gym and wait by the doors for your boyfriend and the team to come out 

when they do, yaku comes out a little after the other team members

it’s your squeal that shocks him

the kiss happens when you jump onto him

(think something like the falling kiss between victor and yuuri from YOI)

kind of rough, slight teeth, but very romantic and passionate.

nothing bordering on lustful, but most definitely NOT shy 

it would eventually mellow out to be more gentle and tame

the scene would lead to mixed reactions from the team, but

you can be sure that kuroo would have some smart remark, lev would have a dumb remark, and yamamoto would be fussing that he doesn’t have a girl

overall, while the kiss would be surprising and rough at first, it would calm down a lot

very romantic, very shocking, but also very memorable

ok but on another note, can something like this happen to me please-

Akaashi Keiji

ok now

this guy would probably be drawn to someone very laidback

kind of chaotic (think quiet chaos)

and very outgoing 

like, someone like beck from victorious?

oh god, it’s all coming back to me now-

not so flirty and borderline flighty, but they’d carry the same air that beck does

otherwise, the kiss would probably happen when the two of you are in a private area of something

like a friendly outing or something, and bokuto would be acting like a fool with kuroo or another team member

so like- 

the two of you would be cuddled up next to each other silently

maybe like in a less-obvious area

someplace hidden

and you’d just be doing your own thing

playing on your phone, reading, maybe even studying with the pretty setter

either way, you’re absorbed in your work 

just as much as he is

though he has been taking slight peeks at you while you were doing whatever

it was distracting him

and he was trying to read

just imagine him thinking 

‘they’re so pretty when they’re focused’

you don’t realize that he’s staring at you, but you do eventually are made aware of someone looking at you 

with this guy being how he is, he’d probably just keep looking if you made eye contact with him

you’d laugh, he’d turn a little red

ultimately, though, he’d lean forward despite the flustered reaction.

he’d pause in front of you, just watching your lips twitch up into a small smile

a little nod would be the unspoken allowance that he was asking for.

now.

THE KISS

HOO BOY

i imagine that this would be magical

like- 

the sparks never leave even after a couple hours.

even then, the remaining sparks are like little fairies that won’t leave your side.

it’s slow, it’s soft, it’s romantic

it’s also not the most gentle, not the most experienced, not the most clean (for lack of a better word) 

but it’s everything that either of you could’ve asked for

when the two of you pull away, you giggle a little

akaashi smiles a little

(you know the one!) 

anyway, after the kiss

you two would be made aware of the people around you 

like bokuto 

who is screaming “YEAH! FINALLY!” 

you full on bust out laughing and akaashi rolls his eyes

(he may appear bothered, but he finds it endearing)

he does keep a slightly tighter grip on you after that though

overall, his kiss, in my opinion would be the best

if not THE best, then ONE of the best (next to yaku’s oop-)

very smooth, but very inexperienced

while also remaining so unabashedly him, y’know?

Kunimi Akira 

now, i haven’t seen as much love for this guy 

while i may be missing it or not looking in the right place, i thought i’d contribute to the kunimi train

ANYWAYY

i think he’d go for a bookworm 

not necessarily quiet or loud, but very much to themselves.

someone whose shell would have to break 

kunimi would probably be best friends with his s/o before he even thought of wanting to date them

and much like suga, i think that the first kiss would happen somewhere slightly private

by slightly private, i mean an area that couples would be plentiful

amusement parks, regular parks, you get it

either way, the area wouldn’t change the kind of kiss

since he is so quiet, i feel like he’d find a way to just relax with you

in a place that is ironically romantic (considering he doesn’t care too much)

that being said, i imagine that this would happen on the ferris wheel 

cliche, i know, but just let me elaborate

it’d be getting dark, the two of you would have been at the amusement park with your friends

or maybe even upperclassmen

either way, you two have finally gotten a break from the personalities

and you just want time with each other

no talking, just calm and quiet 

anyway, on your search to find something quiet to do

kunimi sees the ferris wheel and notices that the line isn’t very long

(perfect for him, seeing as his laziness is a factor written in the wiki-)

he directs your attention to it in a way that involves little words, and you agree to his suggestion

after a few minutes of waiting, you two get seated and just sit in silence

throughout the whole ride (up to this point), kunimi was looking at you 

observing how the sunset makes you glow in the light 

how the carnival lights reflect in your eyes 

and he melts

you wouldn’t notice it since you are so absorbed in the view of the event

and he is absorbed in the view of you 

now, here’s where things get odd

he wouldn’t know how to approach the thought of your first kiss when it crosses his mind 

all he knew is that he refused to plan it, the idea struck him, and the timing was perfect.

so.

he just reaches for you hand, and when you turn to look at him

he quickly leans in and pecks your lips

short, sweet, but full of love

definitely leaves the both of you flustered, but

you two do end up scooting a little closer to you after it 

and spend the rest of the night at each other’s hip

overall, the kiss is very quick

don’t let that fool you, though, especially with kunimi

the kiss is perfect coming from him, and wouldn’t be the slightest bit overwhelming

it’d leave for more calm atmosphere between the two of you 

[angellbarnes]

As Red as Snow

pairing: Bucky x reader

words: 2.3k

warnings: language, blood and injuries, character death, angst

A/N: sooo it’s been a while since my last post but I’m finally finding some more inspiration. Apologies in advance but this idea just came to me so hopefully you like this and as usual let me know what you think! 🤍 P.s. I changed my username (used to be thinkingofbuckybarnes)

If you were told to imagine yourself walking through crisp, white snow in the arms of the man you’d hopelessly fallen in love with, it would be a beautiful scene...

You’d leave behind two sets of footprints. The snow-tipped trees would climb high into the oranges and pinks of the drowsy sky and the chilled air would contrast from the warm body you were engulfed by. You would head to a small cabin in the forest, perfect for the two of you to spend the night in.

However, if you were told that one of you had been shot, and that one of you would die at the end of this, that would affect the story a bit, wouldn’t it?

You leave behind two sets of footprints, the pure white snow now stained with blood. The trees appear to loom over you now, casting shadows and darkness in torment as the biting winds seem to be testing the both of you. You stumble through the snow, towards a cabin that you can only hope you will reach alive. 

“Jesus, where the fuck is this place?” You breath out in frustration, which emits a slight chuckle from Bucky.

“Calm down doll, Steve said it’s only a short distance.”

“Yeah, well a short distance doesn't mean walking for over half an hour while it’s getting dark, with two cases of hypothermia, one knife wound and three bullet wounds between the two of us.” Your voice raises with every word and his thumb starts slowly rubbing your shoulder where his arm is around you.

“We don’t have hypothermia and the injuries aren’t that bad.” He tries to reassure you but you’re having none of it.

“Oh yeah? Tell that to your bleeding stomach and leg.” You take a few deep breaths as you make your way through the seemingly endless forest. “You’re lucky your dumb ass is a super soldier.” You mumble as you eye the blood that seeps from underneath his other arm, clutching his stomach.

“There, see it?” He points to a small wooden structure ahead. “Told you it wasn’t much further.” He smirks down at your and you roll your eyes.

“Whatever.” 

You step through the doorway and lead Bucky, holding onto him and wincing as he limps towards the sofa. He lets himself sink onto it and sighs as the weight is lifted off his feet. You realise you’re staring and quickly busy yourself, trying to find a medical kit.

“Steve says it’s in the cabinet on the right side of the bed.” You hear Bucky call through and you rush to the bedroom. Thank god this place is a bungalow, you think.

“Got it.” You call back once you’ve found it and you make your way back to Bucky and his wounded state.

“Mind getting me a towel as well? This stuff ain’t stopping.” He jokes and you grab a couple towels from the bathroom. White.

“Shit, Buck, it’s getting worse.” You apply pressure on his wounds with the towel, letting the blood soak into it, turning pure white red, just like the snow.

“I’ll be fine. How’s your shoulder?”

“Fine. Just a small cut.” You open the medical kit, pulling out a needle and thread, bandages and anything you think would be useful. “Okay, so I’ve never done this before and now I’m about to stitch up three bullet wounds for the first time. Sorry in advance.” Despite your attempt at a light-hearted comment, your tone and face remains serious, which Bucky picks up on.

“You’ll do great. Just stop the bleeding and don’t kill me.” He chuckles at himself but quite frankly you’re too concerned to reciprocate it.

Finally, many stitches, groans, curses and excessive apologies later, you’ve successfully stitched him up.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad.” You say, visibly letting a lot of tension in your body go and falling back on your knees.

“Try being the one being sewn up.” Bucky retaliates. 

“Try being the one sewing up another person!” You can’t hide the faint smile that grows on your face. A silence, a comfortable silence, falls between the two of you for a moment, before Bucky snaps you out of your trance.

“Your turn.” He pushes himself so he’s sat upright, groaning as he does so. You’re quick to grab onto him, once again worried.

“I told you, it’s only a slight cut. I’m fine, Buck.” Bucky raises an eyebrow obstinately and you knew he wasn’t going to let you leave it.

“Come here.” He nods his head to the space next to him and you roll your eyes before taking a seat beside him, medical kit in your lap. “Let me see.”

You slowly push your shirt over your shoulder, revealing the bleeding gash from a knife. In all honesty, it’s slightly worse than you thought. You hiss as he begins to clean it but, as much as it stings, Bucky’s gentle hand takes away from the pain of your shoulder.

“It’s not too deep. Should heal easily enough. It’ll leave a scar though.” He finishes by putting a bandage over it, resting his hand atop for somewhat longer than necessary.

“What’s one more scar, right? Thank you.” You say, “Maybe I should cook us some dinner.” As you stand up a hand grabs yours, and you fall straight into his big blue eyes.

“You saved my life, you know.” 

With all your words suddenly caught in your throat, all you can do is lean down and press a delicate kiss to his cheek. But as you pull away from him he instantly pulls you onto his lips and the warmth of his against yours sends electricity through your veins. 

You can still feel him on your lips when you pull away and, without a word, you leave to the kitchen. Though it doesn't help much that it’s open plan, and about six feet away from the sofa.

“That was...” You begin, boiling some water and putting the pan on the stove.

“Something I’ve been meaning to do for a while now.” Bucky finishes. You keep your back to him and let your eyes widen in surprise, unsuccessfully hiding the smile creeping onto your lips.

“Oh?” You start rummaging through the fridge and cupboards for anything to cook, settling on pasta. Plain, due to the lack of anything else. “You’d think Tony would have more choice for food.”

“It’s just- I hope I haven’t ruined anything.”

“No, you haven’t. I... actually feel the same.” You turn back to him, rubbing the back of your neck.

“You do?” You nod in reply. Pouring the pasta into the pan and leaving it, you walk back over to Bucky. You take his face in both your hands and let your forehead fall on his.

“I was so scared earlier. So scared that I might’ve lost you. There was so much blood and I know that you’re a super soldier and everything but you can still die and I tried to stay calm but I couldn’t help it, I couldn’t help being scared and I-”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I’m okay.” He wipes a fallen tear from your cheek and smiles, so softly, and you let yourself calm down.

“God, I’m sorry.” You get up to check the pasta, “I don’t know why I’m being so emotional. I just- when it comes to you, I don’t know, there’s something in me that wants to make sure you’re always okay.” You admit, “When you’re happy, I feel happy and when you’re sad, I want to make you feel better. Just ignore me.” You try to laugh the feelings off as you serve the pasta, suddenly feeling two grips on your waist. You spin around quickly to come face to face with him, towering over you in the least intimidating way possible. Only adoration is in his eyes.

“Careful, Bucky, your injuries-”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s nice, hearing how you feel about me. I was going to start off smaller and say that I think I’m falling for you but, goddamn it, I’m in love with you, Y/N.” His confession leaves you speechless with but a grin on your face and you lean up as he leans down, meeting halfway to share a deep, hungry, passionate kiss.

“We should eat. It’ll get cold.” You murmur into his lips, still in a daze from how utterly intoxicating he is.

Halfway through the blandest meal you’ve ever eaten, an uneasy feeling arises in you. You focus on your breathing, reassuring yourself that it’s just post-traumatic stress from the mission.

“You okay? You’ve stopped eating.” Bucky says and you nod reassuringly.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. Not very hungry anymore.” He smiles and gets up to take your plate and his empty one to the sink. You start to zone out slightly before a sudden smashing of plates and cutlery startles you. You rush to where Bucky is on the floor, pieces of plate and pasta scattered in front.

“Oh my god, Bucky, what happened? Shit, you shouldn’t be moving around! I shouldn’t have let you take the plates. Screw that, I shouldn’t have let you get off the sofa.” You help him up, flinching with every grunt that comes from him, and lead him back to the sofa. You help him to lie down again and he screws his face, visibly in pain.

As you go to clear up the mess, a sudden cough erupts from your stomach, the kind that hurts your throat when you do.

“The cold out there really got to you, huh?” Bucky comments.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You reply, with a small laugh.

“Ow, agh, seems like a couple stitches have ripped.” He then says and you hurry back over to check, and then fix him. More blood and stitches later, you then finish clearing the kitchen and seat yourself down, giving yourself a breather, feeling rather heated up after all the rushing around.

“Hey you look a little pale, maybe you should lie down? You were injured too and you’ve been doing a lot since getting here.”

“I’m fine, and my injury isn’t even that bad, I promise.” You reassure, though you feel your eyelids become heavy.

“You should sleep; it’ll be good for you. I would come and join but I think it’s best if I stay and sleep here tonight.”

“Okay but shout if you need anything, okay? Don’t want you getting any worse.”

“I promise. Now come and kiss me goodnight.” You smirk and give him a tender, lingering kiss. 

“Goodnight, my love.” He coos.

“Goodnight. You’ll be okay.” You whisper back, as your throat feels abruptly tighter. Bucky smiles up at you, seeing yours back at him and he can’t help how lucky he feels.

What he doesn’t see, though, is how your face falters when you turn around, how you walk to the bedroom having to put all of your energy into each step. He doesn’t see the sheer terror in your face once you’re out of his sight, now struggling for each breath without trying to make a sound. You wipe the sweat from your forehead and the tears from your cheeks as you get out a pen and paper, unable to control your quivering hands.

‘I’m sorry. I love you.’

You get under the covers and try so hard to ignore the burning sensation that’s running through your blood, fighting back screams of agony that now sear the back of your throat. You cover your mouth with your hand, choking back sobs and letting your tears stream because you don’t want Bucky to walk in and see you struggling for your life.

Because he didn’t see you on that mission when the guard you thought was dead tackled you once more, sticking a needle in the side of your neck before you put him down for good. 

You know that he will find you, though, your cold, lifeless body awaiting him in the morning. He’ll call for you to see if you’re awake and after no answer he’ll stagger to the bedroom to make sure you’re all right. He’ll fall to his knees and grasp your hand in his, begging for this to be some horrible nightmare, sobbing on the phone to Steve, who can’t make out a single word of what he’s saying.

He’ll read the note and wonder what the hell happened to you. He’ll have to wait until Tony and Bruce run tests to analyse what caused it. He won’t know that you thought you were alright because the poison didn’t kick in straight away. He’ll blame himself for not realising or asking. He’ll hate himself for not starting a relationship with you sooner, for not protecting you enough, for not cherishing you enough.

And you spend your lasts moments wondering what could’ve happened if you weren't seconds from such a painful death; a future with Bucky. You would return back to the compound and take care of him until his wounds have healed. You would train together and end up making out instead. Your first date? Who knows, maybe he would propose one day, down on one knee with a hopeful smile and tears glossing over his eyes. You’d move in together and share so many amazing and intimate moments, from laughing over the smallest things, creating inside jokes, to each and every kiss you share, and comforting him when he wakes from his nightmares. Even the fights and arguments you would have. 

Somehow picturing him numbs the pain, and it starts to grow dull. Your heart rate begins to slow. Your hand gently falls from your mouth. Your struggling ceases and your tears gradually stop. As does your breathing, your heart, your body, and, finally, your thoughts of Bucky as they slowly fade into darkness.

[punkiepunzyl]

so little note as for the inspiration for this little drabble piece...

My cat Floyd- was feral his first three months of life, and so he is very funny when it comes to excessive affection (even though he’s been with us almost a year now)- and I figured it was how Michael would maybe interact with his S/O

Warning ⚠️: I’m still new at this when it comes to writing about Mikey’s behavior so bear with me if he’s a tad bit OOC.

———————————————————————

Grooming Day~ (RZ!Michael Myers x Reader Oneshot)

It was time again- time to go see if Mikey felt like cooperating today. If I was lucky, he would allow me to talk to him, maybe even groom him a bit...though that would take a hell of a lot of patience on his end. And a lot of unfiltered bravery in mine.

I grabbed the cell keys from my locker (the set of keys that Loomis had given to me begrudgingly after Michael made it clear he seemed to have no intention of killing me...yet) and began to make my way down the depressing corridors to Michael’s too small lodgings.

‘I honestly don’t know how he hasn’t punched through the wall by now, I’m WAY shorter than he is and I even get claustrophobic in there’ I mused as I approached the door.

I paused just long enough to tap out a quiet pattern on the door to let Michael know I was entering his room- none of the other guards could keep up with my patterns so I used that as a code system that I switched out every week, (and I kept doing this no matter how much Loomis scolded me for it.) Slowly pushing the metal slab of steel open I found the behemoth sitting with his back to me at his little desk working on a mask. Michael’s artistic ability never ceased to amaze me, and even though the other staff members constantly talk shit about his masks, I found that if you looked close enough you could find all the small intricate patterns he would paint on the cheeks or forehead of his paper mache creations.

“Michael, it’s me (Y/N),” I slowly crept forward, allowing the man in front of me to process what I was saying before continuing to make my cautious movements to stand beside him- making sure to stand close to his bed. “Nod your head to let me know you understand what I’m saying Mikey.”

The last thing I wanted to do was get in Mike’s personal space without letting him know first- because the last time I made that mistake I ended up with a cracked rib (because I flew into the wall like a rag doll) and very aggravated Michael who had placed his hand in the center of my chest and shoved me away from him- because I was dumb enough to put my hand on him without his permission.

Slowly Michael not only nodded his head; but turned around to look at me his blue eyed gaze stabbing me with its intensity. Even though my interactions with Mikey were harmless for the most part- that didn’t stop his predatory gaze from causing me to momentarily freeze up in fear.

It was only instinct...

“How we doing today big guy?” I said lying my hand in his forearm in a friendly welcome. He looked at where I was touching him then lifted a three fingers to mimic the gentle affection I was giving him on his arm- his long fingers wrapping all the way around my wrist, giving it a testing squeeze.

I was happy to see no one else was really on duty in this corridor today- it would only prove to be a problem if stabby man decided he suddenly wanted to kill me- but other guards was what typically annoyed him on my visits. Their stares and open chatter about he’d never behaved like this with anyone before- it made him feel weak.

So reinforcement in the means of extra bodies wasn’t an option. That just left me and the 6’8” somewhat “gentle giant” by ourselves.

He shifted in his seat and stood up to his full height- Michael did this every time I came to visit him- it was his way of silently reminding me who was in charge here- and it wasn’t me. I knew and understood that very well- I would never be in control of Michael Myers- he tolerated me being around him, and I was grateful to him for even giving me that.

“I want to brush your hair today, maybe shave you a bit- is that ok? I could just keep you company if you don’t want me that close or-“ before I could finish my unintelligible rambling Myers plopped down on his bed and cocked his head to the side as if to say “Well are you going to start or what?”

I gave him a soft smile and climbed onto his bed behind him easing my back to lean against the wall as I began to dampen Michaels mane of dirty blonde knots, and after putting in some oil and leave in conditioner- began gently working through his mats and tangles- ending his first part of grooming by giving his hair a quick trim and putting it in a loose braid.

Now came the harder part- shaving Mikey’s facial hair. He absolutely hated it when I got to close to his jugular- I imagine any strong predator would, it makes him feel too vulnerable.

I scooted my self of the bed and walked around to stand in between Mike’s legs before beginning to speak.

“Hey bud, you did really well with the first part of this, let’s see if you hold still for this. I’ll try to be quick so you won’t be uncomfortable for to long...ok?” I cooed beginning to trim the small beard he’d begun to sprout in the last few weeks.

He twitched slightly as I gently applied the thick shaving cream to his skin making sure to massage it into his jaw line before ceasing to observe my work- and to see how good old Mikey was holding up. I could see how tightly wound up his body was- corded muscle tensing up and shifting underneath his clothes, he was holding himself together as best as he could...but this self restraint wouldn’t hold for long. His knuckles were stark white as he gripped the edge of his bed and I mentally prepared myself for if he were to strike me right now.

I inhaled shakily looking in those blue eyes- their lack of expression making me feel as though I’d been dunked in cold water then left in a icy wasteland. There would be no fire and no fresh change of clothes leaving me doomed to die of hypothermia.

But for a moment I saw something slightly tender, as he read the openly unanswered question in my eyes “can I touch you?”. He suddenly reached out to grab me, and I let out a yelp of surprise...I’d been so caught up in his eyes I didn’t even notice him move, and watched in awe as he guided my hand holding the five blade razor to his jaw.

I let out a relieved huff of air- some would even call the exhalation a very breathy laugh- and quickly got to work on shaving Mike’s face. Especially because he seemed to be in a good mood today, but I still made sure to take my time with near his Adam’s Apple and jugular as to avoid cutting to close or pushing down to hard.

Soon enough the deed was done, as I cleaned off Michael’s face of any excess shavings or shaving cream- and applying some aftershave I simply gawked at the handsome man for a solid minute or two- before I noticed his gaze flit away from mine to shyly pick at some of the sealer he frequently used on his masks that was stuck to his hands.

Because Mikey was clearly in a good mood already, today I decided I could afford to make some rather bold choices such as reaching out to cup Michael’s large head in my small hands and lift his chin to make him look at me- relishing the soft feel of his freshly shaved face against my palms.

“Michael Audrey Myers-I still get the feeling you don’t realize just how handsome you are... you definitely wouldn’t bother wearing those masks if you did.” I said softly, the pads running over his cheekbones.

He looked at me then- his eyes looking a little less glacier like than they usually do. His arms swiftly wrapped around my waist and he allowed himself to flop fully onto his bed, deciding that he was now going to use me like a stuffed animal for the rest of the time that was with him today.

Guess I won’t be moving until shift change...not that I was complaining at all.

———————————————————————

Author’s Note: I had originally posted this fic to a new blog of mine- called gigglemyers (which I have now deleted) but I didn’t like that tumblr kept pulling it out of the tags because my blog was new SOOO I just decided to start using this one again- and let it turn into absolute chaos.

Sound cool? Okay good- because with this much content from different communities this blog is going to turn into a real mess, real quick. Just a heads up! ☺️

[t-lostinworlds]

Hi there! I hope you are doing well:) I've been reading your work for a while, and you're such an incredible actor. I was wondering if you could give some tips and tricks to new writers? I published my first fic and im super nervous haha. only if you want to though! no pressure at all :)

hello hun! 🥰 and i’m doing alright ahaha but gosh 🥺 thank you lovely, that’s so sweet of you honestly. and omg! congrats on posting your first fic hun! that’s take courage honestly and i’m so proud of you for that ❤️ and of course! i won’t be going into actual details because then i’d be writing another essay ahah but anyway, i’ve already posted how i plot my fics -> here so you can refer to that too.

always write what you want to write. you can take requests of course but you are not obligated to write them if you are not feeling it. never force yourself to write what you don’t want. you’ll fall out of love of writing if you do that because then it will feel like a job.

take your time and enjoy the process. don’t rush to the finish line just for the sake of wanting to post something. only post whenever you feel like it and whenever you want to share your work.

read read read. it helps you improve and get inspired. it helps you learn some different styles on how some authors write which can help you find your own style too.

always do some research on things you aren’t familiar with. know your facts so the fic won’t look too unrealistic. use pictures as references for places, clothes etc. it helps you explain things in much greater detail which helps paint a clearer picture of what you want your readers to see.

it’s totally okay if your work is so messy and not so detailed at first. it’s okay if it’s all just words jumbled together just so you can get the idea on where it will go. because you can always improve it when you go back to edit.

i’ve learned to do this thing where after i finish a fic, i never post it right away. i leave it for a couple of hours, sometimes even days and not think about it. so that when i go back to re-read it again to proofread and edit, it’s would be somewhat fresher in the eyes and in the mind. which will only help it improve some more.

don’t dwell on numbers. you can appreciate it of course but don’t make it out to be this big deal. the quality of your fic is never fully determined with the number of notes it gets. what’s more important is that you loved writing it and you love re-reading it.

if you lose inspiration on a certain work then it’s okay to leave it for now and move on to other ideas that sparks your interest. don’t put yourself through hell of forcing yourself to stick to a certain fic even when your mind is blank because then you’ll end up frustrated and don’t get to work on anything at all.

but also, if you’re inspiration really high and stuck to one single project then write to your hearts content. stick with it until it gets done.

I’ve got sooo many WIPs and ideas so what I do is i open the ones I want to do (sometimes I open them all lmao) and jump between them just to get a feel. what usually happens is I find myself sticking to one fic much longer than the rest, or sometimes, i forget i have other docs opened while i’m writing that certain fic because inspo just flows. so, i have that fic as my chosen one to finish first and close the others for next time. I then stick to that one fic for days until i get it done.

if you don’t feel like writing, then don’t force yourself to write. do other things, watch videos, movies, bake, anything. because sometimes, when you’re in the middle of something you suddenly get inspired and go “huh, i want to write something” and that’s when you write.

but also, try and get a few words in every day. no matter if it’s only 100 words or 1000. i’ve got a daily reminder that tells me to write at least 500 words every single day, whether it’s for a one shot or to continue a series. i just open my WIPs and see where it goes, maybe I’ll add something, maybe I won’t. But sometimes, for me at least, whenever I don’t feel like writing but I open a doc and go over what I’ve written, it sparks inspiration out nowhere and then the next thing i know I’m already halfway through a fic.

i don’t know if this will work for everyone but change the device where you write every once in a while. i jump between my phone and my laptop when i write. because sometimes when i stare at my laptop screen i don’t have the urge to write, but the moment i transfer to my phone then words just flow right out and vice versa. idk why that is but i always get a different feel when I write on my phone and on my laptop.

last thing i want to say for now (because this is getting really long haha) write because you love and enjoy it. don’t do it for numbers, don’t do it because it’s what everyone is doing. do it because you want to tell and share your stories. do it because it makes you happy, it helps you escape to a whole new world. simply do it for your own pleasure.

that’s it for now ahah but if you’ve got specific questions or want me to talk further about specific things like overcoming writers block, dialogues etc. then you are always welcome to pop up in my inbox, love 🥰

[liivkiss]

The prologue to a story I probably won't continue ...

Sooo... After years of creating an account, but only beginning to actually use it a few months ago, I decided to make a post. But, before the story itself, some information: -  English isn’t my first language. Then, you will probably find some (or many) errors;  - It is a Harry Potter’s fic inspired by the story "Bone of the Father (Blood of the Enemy)" by Ellory on AO3; - This is just the prologue to a story that I'm not sure will continue, but I have several ideas for that. It will probably be called "Blood and Magic (make us a family)" - If you like it and want to continue or use it as inspiration for something, just let me know. At the end I will put some of my ideas for this story. I hope you like it, anyway!

----------

Grapevines: For Intoxication and Bonds

Halina was sitting on her bed (if you can call it that) in the smallest room in the Dursleys' house. In front of her, a hand mirror was resting on the pillows.

In the mirror, instead of her reflection, Sirius Black's image, her Godfather and one of the last connections with her parents, glowed like a computer or TV screen. But it was magic.

She really loves magic… 

Sirius told her that Headmaster Dumbledore believed it would be safer if he didn’t contact Halina, since he was a fugitive criminal in the eyes of the Ministry of Magic, but he couldn’t do that. He failed with her as Godfather once, he wouldn’t do it again.

There was a lot to teach her about the magical world, especially since she didn't grow up in this world.

"Magic Inheritances aren’t transmitted only by words, by someone simply named their Heir." Sirius said calmly to her.

He wasn’t exactly happy with her treatment at the Dursleys, but neither of them had what they needed to get her out. Then, he taught it through the two-way mirror. What she owned now belonged to her father, James Potter.

“A connection, formed by bonds of Blood and Magic, is necessary for the Family Magic pass for the child.”

“So… How did you manage to make me the Heiress Black? Aren't we related? We are?” She tilted her head slightly to the right, frowning.

Sirius laughed a little. She liked to see Sirius smiling. He always seemed a little lighter when he did that. “We are, distantly, but we are.” He replied, still with a smile on his face "But that wouldn’t be enough to make you my Heiress."

*x*x*x*x*x*

"Let's go together, then." Halina said, looking at Cedric.

“Together?” The blond boy asked, confused.

"We touch the cup at the same time. We make Hogwarts the winner of the Tournament. Together." She answered.

"That sounds like a great idea for me." He smiled charmingly, as he always did for everyone.

She never really liked that. It looked so rehearsed. Malfoy's smirks seemed more honest than Cedric's empty smile. They always talk about how kind the boy was, but he never helped her with all the mockery and obvious bullying she suffered, even before that year.

But, well, nobody helped her. He wasn’t different.

“At three?” Cedric asked

“Yes.”

“One…” The Hufflepuff started counting.

“Two…” She took a deep breath.

“Three!” Both said simultaneously, touching the Cup together. She felt a twinge in his navel and the world around her turned.

*x*x*x*x*x*

“See, Hali…” Sirius started to explain “Between biological magical parents and children the blood connection, which I imagine is obvious here, and the magic connection happens naturally. Unless, of course, something happens to prevent this. But this is rare.”

Sirius waved his hand in front of his face with a nervous smile, dismissing the last comment.

“These connections, of Blood and Magic, are the bridge for the passage of Family Magic to reach the child and connect with him. If there isn’t a link between Blood and Magic, the Family Magic doesn’t reach the person. Of course, the connection of a Parent and your Child is only the natural way for that connection to form. There are others, Marriage, for example. But that is for another time.

“That still doesn't explain us.”

“I'm getting there.” Sirius smiled indulgently at her impatience. “The Magic Connection between two people is simple to form and there are dozens ways this can happen. Contracts, oaths, family relationships. In our case, it was a Godparenting Ritual. In the ritual, my magic connected with yours, thus establishing a magical connection between us.”

*x*x*x*x*x*

“Kill the spare” Halina heard the hissing voice order someone.

“No!” She shouted, but it was too late.

The green light hit Diggory and he went limp on the floor. Not a second later, she was gagged and stuck in one of the cemetery headstones. Only then does she realize who is doing all this. Pettigrew was quiet, arranging what appeared to be a ritual.

She could only see Diggory's body in front of her, her wand (idiot! - she thinks of herself) is lying not far from him and she is trapped in a tombstone by… Tom Riddle, apparently.

The damn rat puts a snake-like creature, deformed and strange, but vaguely humanoid, into the cauldron.

“Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!" 

Pettigrew recites, causing a bone to come out of the grave below Halina and float into the huge cauldron.

Oh, that sounds so wrong.

She's screwed.

*x*x*x*x*x*

“But if it was just the connection between Godfather and Goddaughter, you still couldn't be my Heiress” Sirius continued explaining.

She listened attentively to everything. She loved to learn every single thing she could about the Wizarding World. Even though it might sound tedious to most people, for her it sounded so amazing and wonderful.

*x*x*x*x*x*

"Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master.”

Pettigrew continues the ritual on top of what she supposes is some potion.

It was Black Magic, however. Not Dark, not Obscure. Not even Ancient.

It was the Addictive and Dangerous Black Magic.

*x*x*x*x*x*

“While not the most conventional, it isn’t the first time this has happened.” Sirius commented “But the blood connection needed for you to be my Heiress, for Family Black Magic passed on to you, it happened because of our distant kinship. Your grandmother, your father's mother, was Dorea Potter. She was born in the Black Family and was actually my grandfather's younger sister. We are cousins, kind of.”

“Hmm… So this is the blood connection between us…”

“Yes. There are other ways to establish a blood bond, in addition to looking for family members. Adoption, through the correct blood rituals, is one of those means. Other types of rituals and even some oaths require the use of blood. They don't necessarily form a strong enough link to the Magic Inheritance, but it's there.”

*x*x*x*x*x*

Pettigrew approached her and cut off her arm, taking the blood that was spilling from the huge cut.

“B-blood of the enemy… forcibly taken… you will… resurrect your foe.”

“Well, shit.” It was the only thing she could think of.

*x*x*x*x*x*

Sirius then stopped smiling and became serious.

“But remember Halina: Blood is the most powerful and dangerous thing in the Wizarding World. Don’t give your blood freely. Don't leave your blood behind. And do your best not to spill your blood by force. The most unimaginable things, on the good and the bad side, are possible to do using Blood Magic.”

“I understand, Sirius.”

*x*x*x*x*x*

The liquid in the cauldron immediately turned bright white. Wormtail falls to his knees beside the cauldron with the shiny liquid.

The cauldron was simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness. Nothing happened… 

“Let it have drowned.” Halina thought, let it have gone wrong… 

And then, suddenly, she felt a strong pull on her magic. He got out of it and spun around, flying away. The sparks stopped coming out of the cauldron. A second wave of magic surrounded her and she couldn't tell where it came from, but it entered her body and settled in her veins and core.

A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of Hali, so that he couldn't see Wormtail or Cedric or anything but vapor hanging in the air… 

*x*x*x*x*x*

The blue eyes, cold as ice, shine with rage. It couldn't be. Not yet. His plans were just beginning to move! Years of planning, just for that girl to die before her time! The boy was back, he knew he was. So, he had plans to redo it.

Furious, he tosses the Daily Prophet on the table before getting up and leaving the room. In the newspaper, on the front page, a headline stood out in its big black letters in uppercase:

HALINA POTTER ASSASSINATED!

----------

- To make it clear: No, Halina (Fem!Harry) didn't really die. As in Ellory's fic, if that wasn't obvious, Halina ends up becoming Voldemort/Tom Riddle's adopted daughter because of the ritual. - Ideally, this wouldn’t be a Bashing fic for Dumbledore, but he would be Manipulator and the real villain here. Hence the falsification of Halina's death.

I have some drafts for the first and second chapters, but I'm not sure if I'm going to continue writing this fic. But can I bring these drafts here eventually, perhaps?

I would need to translate them, though. They are all in Portuguese.

But that's it. What do you think?

[ai-katsuu]

Pino and Gretel (1/1)

As requested by @oceanspray5​ a fic about Pino and Gretel which I had a lot of fun writing! This just covers breaking their curse so I didn’t go too much into depth with their main story. Inspired by the art of sleepy-lion-king and based off mine. 

Also if you’re wondering what happened specifically between Hans and Gretel, see this short post/art. 

---

 “I’m glad you two made up,” Arthur sat down next to his friend, “it’s important for family to stick together.” “Thank you. I’m glad she’s back in my life again.” he smiled and looked over to his sister. Gretel was happily chatting with Audrey and Snow near the far end of where they had all camped. After shutting her out for several years and all of the pain she had to endure alone, Hans was happy she was smiling again. 

He couldn’t undo what he did in the past, but he could at least try to fix it by sticking by her side. “And then during her wedding…” Snow spoke while laughing, “Her shoe broke just before she was about to walk down the aisle! Your brother and I had to help Audrey fix it before they could open the doors, and the crowd had to wait for like, twenty minutes!” “Snow, stop!” Audrey playfully pushed her and covered her face. “But uh..yeah it’s true. It was embarrassing, but it’s a funny story to tell at parties.” she chuckled.

Gretel smiled, “Getting married after a year, how could you be so sure of the one person you’ll spend the rest of your life with?” she genuinely asked. Snow and Audrey thought, “I kinda just knew.” Snow started, “When I proposed to Merlin it wasn’t just on a whim, I thought about it long and hard, and Merlin is the one person who truly loves me for who I am, no matter what I look like. He didn’t prefer Red Shoes nor Snow White, just me.” she smiled at the memory.

Gretel nodded, “Audrey?” she turned to her. Audrey thought about it for a while. “Well, I’ll tell you one thing now, Gret,” she looked at her. “Love at first sight doesn’t exist.” Audrey stated flatly. “Real love takes time, love takes work. At the very least you have to know that person well enough. If you don’t, then do you really love them? Or the person you see them to be?” Gretel and Snow looked at her.

Audrey widened her eyes and put her hands up, “Ah! Sorry I didn’t mean to get all philosophical! To answer your question…” she looked sideways, “True, contradictory to what I said, Jack proposed only 6 months after we met, but in those 6 months we’ve been through a lot together. There’s really no ‘right time’ set for all couples, each one is unique. You just know when they’re the one really.” she concluded smiling. 

“And, also the fact that we were the one who broke their curses, sooo…” Snow high-fived Audrey to which Gretel laughed. “Each is unique huh..” she whispered to herself. The sun was starting to set and Gretel told Audrey and Snow she wanted to go for a walk, to which they nodded and continued their own conversation. 

As she walked through the trees with golden leaves, she began to think about the past days. After finding her brother again (only to see that he had become short and green) she managed to reconcile with him. Although it was begrudgingly, they got there somehow. If she was honest she wouldn't have gotten there without the help of his friend who was also under the same curse as him.

Gretel walked by the river and saw a small bridge up ahead. She looked closer and saw someone sitting on the edge of it, moving his hands around a metal contraption. She smiled and quickened her pace, “Pino,” she called out. The inventor whipped his head to his left and grinned immediately. “Gretel, what are you doing out here?” “Just taking a walk, what are you working on?” she crouched down to his level.

“Something I made to help me find buried things,” he said while twisting the screw driver. “I call it-” “A metal detector?” Gretel cocked her head. Pino stared at her for a bit before nodding rapidly, “Yup, yup. Metal detector. Better name, definitely what I was gonna call it.” Gretel giggled to which Pino did the same. He then patted his hand on the space next to him and she sat next to him.

“It’s a good thing you made up with Hans, I’m really happy for you two, good job.” Pino said. Gretel shook her head, “You know we only made up because of you right?” He scrunched his face, “Me?” “I mean, yeah,” she nodded, “I wasn’t willing to forgive him at first, but you came and talked to me every chance you got,” Although she couldn’t see it, Pino raised his eyebrows and averted his gaze as he rubbed the back of his head, “Sorry, did I bother you too much?” 

“On the contrary! Our talks are one of the happiest I’ve had in my life. The advice you would give me about how important siblings are, your stories with Noki and Kio, your love for your brothers really inspired me to make peace with mine. It’s really all thanks to you, Pino. I couldn’t have done it without you.” his mouth slightly opened as he listened to her in awe before he nervously chuckled, “N-not at all, it’s no problem! I’ll always be there to help you when you need it.” 

“Really?” Gretel eyes widened. Pino looked at her again and saw through her lenses, that her eyes were almost quite literally sparkling. ‘Beautiful..’ he thought before speaking, “Of course...over the past few days you’ve become quite an important person to me. I value you too much.” he spoke honestly.

Something lit inside Gretel’s chest when he heard those words, “Thank you, Pino...you’ve become important to me too..” she softly spoke. Pino swore he could die of happiness right ten and there. They two of them were like that for a bit, and he started to feel a bit nervous.

 “So, you want me to show how this works?” He quickly grabbed his work. Gretel nodded; she rested her head on her hand and just smiled as she looked at Pino talking, fumbling with the device. His words weren’t quite reaching her ears as she stared at him in complete admiration. Not just for his genius mind, but for his personality that made her fall for him-

…

Oh…

...She fell for him…?

(Song to be played! highly recommended to listen!)

Gretel's smile fell for a bit as she came to terms with the new information she just told herself. She suddenly felt hot as she felt her neck and forehead. Excitement, nervousness? Whatever it was she made a quick recovery and Pino’s words came to light again. “...and the switch here has been malfunctioning a bit but I think I managed to fix it.” he looked at it seriously before standing up, “We should try it on the sand over there, maybe it will work there,” “Pino?” He turned around still talking “Yeah I know, it might not be accurate as soil but-”

And then he felt something warm on his lips. Instinctively he had closed his eyes, ‘What...did she..?’ and then the warmness overtook his body as he saw the color gold through his eyelids. Gretel slowly opened her eyes and gasped as she stood back up. His body had a golden glow that lasted for a few seconds before it died down. Gretel put a hand over her mouth in shock to what appeared before her. 

Pino’s hat had fallen on the bridge’s surface, and standing before Gretel was a boy with fluffy light blond hair. The boy raised his hands as he looked at them, “Wha..” he breathed out. He touched his arms and then put a hand to his cheek before his face turned to a hopeful smile. “I’m human..?” and then Gretel saw it for the first time. His sapphire blue eyes that had tears on their edges. “Gretel..you..you broke my curse!” he beamed.

“I-I did?” she stuttered out. She had kissed him on impulse but she didn’t think that it would break his curse. Nonetheless the feelings that have been buried in her chest exploded. “You’re human again..!” she slowly smiled. Pino laughed through his tears and ran up to the red haired girl. He lifted her up and spun her around as they both laughed. Once he had put her down, Gretel was once more entranced by his beautiful eyes, she wondered why he insisted on hiding them. 

“You love me?” he asked, smiling. Now that she could actually see his full face she started to see how attractive and charming he actually was. Of course he was..he is part of the F7. “I do…” she softly spoke, averting her gaze as she shyly smiled, “Do you-” “I do.” he quickly held her hands and nodded. His happy smile appeared again as he went in for one more kiss. 

---

“So..how are we gonna tell them?” Pino asked. They were just a few feet from the group, who had lighted a campfire they all sat around. “Um..” Gretel thought for a bit. “Just follow my lead.” and he nodded. She walked up ahead to the group as Pino followed a few steps behind her. Noki laughed as he told a story before he took a double look at the pair ahead of him. He immediately stopped talking and nudged his younger brother, “What-oh..” Kio stared. The pair looked and their eldest brother. The rest had wondered what they were looking at before they followed their gaze.

There was a gasp from someone. Silence. Gretel was about to speak before she froze up from all the eyes. “Er..” 

“Did you guys-?” Merlin asked 

“Yeah,” Pino slowly nodded. 

Jack pointed his finger out to Gretel “And were you the one-” 

“Yup,” she popped the last letter. 

Snow followed, “Since when did you two-” 

“Over the past few weeks,” Pino shrugged. 

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cry, that's so cute,” Audrey gasped as she clung onto Jack’s arm, who was equally in shock. 

“You did it!” Noki and Kio ran up to their brother, who crouched down and gave them a happy hug. “Gretel..!” Hans stood up and hugged his sister. The group cheered and applauded. 

Hans smiled happily as he watched. Arthur went up to him once more, “Well you’re taking this well.” he put her arm around his shoulder. Hans laughed, “What do you mean?” “Well, she was the one who broke his curse.” “And?” Arthur chuckled, “Mate, he kissed your sister.” Hans’ eyes had widened a considerable amount, enough to creep Arthur out to back away from him, as there was still a smile on Hans’ face. 

“You kissed my sister?!” Hans, pushed himself through the group. They stared at him, “Well, of course they kissed, how did you think his curse got broken?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “Hans..” Gretel eyed him with warning. “You, young lady, I thought I said no boyfriend till married!” 

“?!” 

“Hans what the hell does that even mean!?” Gretel crossed her arms as she looked down on him, literally. “Don’t talk back to your brother, and you!” his eyes went to Pino. “Um…” he stepped back a bit. “How dare you advance on her. Sterben dummkopf!” he jumped up and latched himself onto his head, attacking him with whatever means possible.

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Twenty Eight, “Unanswered Questions”

Find all chapters to this story HERE! c: 

Check out the inspiration tag for this story here! :*

Song Inspo: I’d Rather Be With You by Joshua Radin (click to listen) 

                                    SNEAKY PEEK TIMEEEEE

With a jealous sigh, I lock my phone and lose myself in my boring cup of tea. Again. Wondering when the puzzle pieces of my life will fall together, like it seems so many others have.

The people on Instagram.

Even Harry’s, I think as I steal a peek at him.

Swallowing, I suddenly think of the puzzle piece I want to find most of all. And that perhaps it’s not that I haven’t found it yet, it’s because it doesn’t fit, I realize as my eyes study him. Hands in hair. Chunky rings on his fingers. A pastel suit on. And a contagious smile on his face. All of this ignites another swarm of butterflies within my tummy.

If only he fit into the puzzle that’s my life.

“Sometimes it hurts more to hope, and it hurts more to care. But you have to promise me that you won’t stop caring.” 

- Katara, Avatar the Last Airbender

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” 

“Nothing,” I tell Skye, quickly toeing my shoes off on the rug. My rumbling tummy guides me over to the cabinets, and then the fridge. 

“Then stop slamming doors if you’re apparently not mad,” she retorts with a huff. 

The microwave beeps at me angrily, and I slam that door, too. There’s just this indescribable comfort from slamming things when you’re mad. 

I plop down onto the other side of the sofa Skye sits on, flipping through the channels on tv. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be like doing people’s hair right now?” I say in between spoonfuls of tomato soup. 

“Aren’t you supposed to like, be at school still, or in Madley?” she replies with the same disdainful tone I just used. 

Well played, Skye, well played. 

“I didn’t want to be there any longer. And I’m going up there tomorrow when dad has his next chemo.”

“Mmmmm,” she replies, not being able to pick something to watch. “Business was slow today so they told me to go home,” Skye groans. Her lips in a glittery blue lipstick press together in annoyance, and embarrassment. 

“It seems like we’re both having a shitty day.”

She nods at me, but doesn’t reply at first. “And why was yours so shit, huh?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mutter under my breath. 

Pulling out my phone, I type in my passcode. Next, I open the app and find the profile I was looking for. One I’ve been trying to stay away from, but now I need it to answer the questions filling my head. Swiping up, my eyes search for a picture to tell me all that I want to know. But as I drink my soup, I find myself looking at artistic shots. Before long, I’m looking at pictures from 5 years ago. 

“Why’re you looking at Harry’s Instagram?” Skye asks, scooching over to sit by me. I don’t answer her, and when I dare to look up she gives me the evil eye. 

Sighing, I realize I have to tell her. And that maybe it will be good to tell somebody. “He was the guest speaker for my class today,” I admit quietly. Bringing the ceramic bowl to my lips, I down the rest of my soup. The awkward silence is soon filled with my slurps. 

“Excuse me. Did I hear you right? Harry spoke to your class today?!” she asks in near disbelief. 

Nodding, I sit forward to set the bowl on the table. Hitting the back of the sofa with a groan, I look back at my phone. 

“And you’re mad becauseeeeeeeee why?”

“Because he had a ring on his finger,” I reply in a small voice, flicking my thumb across the screen. 

“So? Everybody wears rings, Ree,” Skye insists. But my eyes pan over to hers, and I don’t hide anything in them. The realization unfolds on her face, and her features fall. “Oh, Ree. I’m sorry . . . But you can’t know if it’s a wedding ring or not.”

“I know, that’s why I’m trying to look on his insta. But I don’t see anything about a wedding or a new girlfriend,” I respond, starting at the beginning again. 

“So, that’s a good sign then. Anybody would post about getting married,” she says reassuringly. But her words don’t stitch up the hole I feel inside of me. One that grew even more just today when I saw that ring. 

“I don’t know,” I breathe out with uncertainty. 

“Is that all, Ree?” Skye coos softly. I drop my phone on my chest and close my eyes. Her fingers start to comb through my shoulder-length hair that she cut the other day in our kitchen. 

“His hair is short, and he looked so good, Skye. Fuck, he looked amazing. He was in this gray suit, and he had stubble. It was sooo attractive on him. And he was so charming with that dimply smile. Everybody ate it up, even me,” I confess, feeling the emotions weigh in my words. 

“Yeah well, even I think he’s hot. It’s pretty hard not to have a crush on him,” she agrees. I open my eyes and turn to look into hers. She flashes me a small smile as her fingers continue to play with my hair. 

“Did he recognize you?” 

“Yeah, about three minutes into his talk. And he smiled and it messed him up. Made him lose his train of thought,” I say with a proud smile tickling at my lips. She nods smiling, and says ‘go, Ree!’ “I think he wanted me to ask him a question when it came to that part, because I saw him look at me a few times.”

“And why didn’t you ask him a question?”

“There was nothing I wanted to ask since I know a lot about his career. I didn’t want to take away from the learning of the other students.”

“You’re too fucking nice,” she laughs, pulling one from my lips as well. Skye shakes her head, sending her now neon pink locks into a dance. “Soooo, did he say hi to you afterward?!” 

“No, and I didn’t know whether to say hi to him,” I admit sadly, my eyes falling to my lap. Picking at a hole in the knee of my jeans, I avoid her gaze. She has enough theoretical balls for the two of us, and is always telling me to just do it. But I never can. “I was debating to say hi when I saw the ring. And about 5 girls were already up there talking to him after class ended. I’m sure they were all flirting up a storm with him.”

“So? That’s when you walk up to him. He forgets about them. You bask in their jealousy and awe as he gives you his undivided attention,” she explains theatrically as if it were clear as day. 

“Sureeee, because that would so happen. I don’t know why you’ve always thought the feelings were mutual between us.” “Even though I only met him once when he came over, that’s all I needed to tell that he fancied you too, Ree,” she quips, wiggling her eyebrows at me. “His eyes were all over you and you could tell how much he enjoyed being with you. Even if you whooped his ass at that card game Nerts that night.”

“Yeah well, it doesn’t really matter anyway. Because apparently he’s married or engaged, or something,” I tell her in a low voice. 

“Maybe you could’ve asked him if you’d gone up to say hi to him,” she insists emphatically. God, I wish she knew when to stop. But she somehow says all of the things I'm secretly thinking. “That’s probably why you came home so early, isn’t it? So there wouldn’t be any chance that you could run into him in the halls, or at the little Starbucks they have? Am I right, or am I right?”

“You’re right, like always,” I admit through gritted teeth. I avoid her eyes, and instead pick at the pink nail polish I’m wearing. 

“I’m sorry, but when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade, Ree. Which translates into making a move with the bloke you’re pining over. Now, watch FRIENDS with me and cheer up,” Skye finishes, quickly pecking my cheek. I dramatically gag and feel her shove my shoulder. 

I briefly laugh before laying down with my head in her lap. 

“What are you doing?” she demands. 

“Play with my fucking hair. That’s what you get for being mean to me when I’m sad,” I whine, using my puppy dog voice. 

“Fineeeee,” she relents. Joey and Chandler’s faces appear on the tv screen. Not long after, I feel her fingers tickling my scalp. “Ya know, Ree, I’m pretty sure you’d have a good chance of walking into his office and pulling down his pants to suck his cock. I’m sure he’d let you.”

“Jesus Christ, Skye! Stop it! I can’t believe you’re thinking about that!” I almost shout, feeling her belly shake with laughter. 

“I’m just saying that you know, you could go to his work and ask him out. Or text him to get a coffee, or to get curry together. It’s not as hard as you make it.”

“I’m not getting started again on the rant about how he was a dick-,” I try to say, but Skye is just not having it with the excuses today. 

“And how he didn’t believe you when it came to Amber who beat you up. I know, Ree, and it was a nightmare, but it’s been a year almost! I doubt he’s married or betrothed to some random chick already. That’s the kinda thing you put on your insta, and it looks like he still uses that account. Plus, people change and it says something that you’re still crushing on him after all this time. And I’m just saying, but it looks like he still cares about you too,” Skye finishes for me, combing through my tangles. “You know I’m right.”

“Yeah, I know. But I still don’t like it.” 

“Maybe you’d like it if you tried to change it,” she continues with her speech. I roll my eyes and try to immerse myself in the scene in front of me. Chandler and Joey playing with their pet duck and chick in their shared apartment. “Just shut up and play with my hair.”

But no matter how hard I try to push her words away, they worm their way into my head. And they stay there, repeating themselves until they’re heard. 

And they won’t shut up, not yet. 

+

I shiver as the cold raindrops still run down my skin. Cursing, I round a corner and try to remember my way around this place. Checking my watch, I curse again when I find I have a few minutes left to find the lecture hall. The fucking rain ruined everything today. My hair. The traffic. My timing. But I can’t let it ruin the speech I’m about to give. No, that wouldn’t be fair to them. 

Soon, I find the number on the familiar door. I walk into a large room humming with voices. Walking straight to the front, I find the man I’m looking for. He turns around with a smile budding on his lips. 

“Glad you could make it, Harry. Thanks for coming in this lousy weather,” Professor Alcott says, gripping my hand firmly in his. 

“‘Course, Rich, I wouldn’t miss it. I’m sorry if ‘m late, tha traffic was horrendous. Big accident up on tha motorway an’ everythin’,” I reply, shaking my head. I feel the raindrops collect at the tips of some hair.  

“That’s a shame. I hope the lot are alright,” he tsks, shaking his head of graying hair. I echo his words. “Well, I’m sure the students will enjoy your talk today. I hope we won’t have as many sleepers as last week’s.” 

I laugh along with him before following him to the front of the room. A blonde fellow rounds the corner and rushes up the stairs, door banging behind him. I only catch a glimpse of him as Richard gets the attention of his quieting class. But I can’t help thinking the bloke reminds me of the main character from the Kingsman movies I’d just seen. 

After draping my coat over a table his computer sits at, I turn my attention back to the class. I smile at Rich when he introduces me, followed by their welcoming applause bringing warmth to my cheeks. 

It’s never not exciting doing these things. 

I smile back at the 50ish young faces looking up at me. They cover a wide age range from parents, some older than me, and to those straight out of high school. Nonetheless, their eager faces bring forth a feeling of hope and excitement I can’t name. 

These talks never fail to have that effect on me. 

I jump into my usual spiel, starting off with a little about who I am. Mentioning Myles, and then telling them how I came to be a lawyer. I start to talk about cases of mine, from favourites, to nightmares, to success stories, and also failures. I’m just about to speak about my time in university and try to give them advice, having known what they’re going through. 

Not long after I started, I’m in the middle of a sentence about starting the firm with Myles. I look up from a woman in the front row and to another place in the room. My eyes dance upwards, trying to include everybody. And then I see her. 

Becks. 

My Becks. 

My heart flutters in my chest as I lose my breath. It’s as if my heart is reacting to seeing her too after all this time. 

Flushed with excitement, I watch her look up from her paper. And to me. Her hair is shorter, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen her lovely face without makeup. She’s more beautiful than I thought I remembered. A smile grows on my lips by accident, and I see one inching up her face, as well. 

Looking away fast, I remember that my eyes deceive me. And she’s not the only person in this room. “I’m sorry, what was I sayin’?” I ask with a laugh, searching the eyes of students in the first few rows. I thank an eager volunteer and continue with my story.

But it’s hard with the emotions bubbling inside of me at the sight of her. Becks is here. Thoughts run rampant inside of my head, along with questions. But I can’t entertain them right now, I remind myself. With an attempt to shut off my brain, I return my focus to my story. But the thought of her sits at the back of my mind. My emotions and thoughts doing backflips at the back of it. All as she sits up there towards the back of the room, watching me and listening. 

Suddenly, I feel even more pressure to impress. 

I had a little speech-bubble waiting inside of my head, waiting until the end to say hi to her. But the second that Alcott says his last words to the class, I’m swarmed with blushing girls standing in front of me asking more questions. Smiling, I oblige and answer them to the best of my distracted ability. Twirling a ring on my left hand, I try to assert my attention to the girl currently talking. But it’s difficult. 

I find my eyes lifting from her elated face and to the crowd of students shuffling out of the lecture hall. I think I spot her head of dark hair next to that of the Kingsman fellow, and a shock of red hair. Friends of hers, they must be. I try to balance my attention between the full force nagging inside of my head to look for her, and the students in front of me. The next time I look I see her getting closer, but then I briefly forget about her when a male student asks an interesting question. 

Wrapping up my answer, he thanks me. I shake his hand and say goodbye. My eyes trail in the direction of the door when I hear her name. Somebody else is saying it. I don’t see her shock of chocolate hair until I watch Kingsman wrap an arm around her shoulder. The flirtatious words of another girl melt into a muffle as I watch her walk away to the door. 

Becks with another guy. Words of getting coffee pass between them. 

Something happens inside of me and I feel everything shut off for a nanosecond, or ten. It only lasts longer as I witness her lean into his shoulder and leave through the ajar door. 

“I think that’ll be all for Mr. Styles today. He put on a great little show for us indeed, but he probably has to get back to work here soon,” I finally hear Rich say from behind me. But it only registers with me when I feel him pat my arm. 

I blink and turn my head back around, feeling everything hit me hard. The sounds. Remembering that people are standing there, looking at me expectantly. 

“Yeah yeah. I’m sorry, e’rybody. But thank you, an’ thank you, Rich. I um was gonna grab a coffee ‘fore I go. Where’s that cafe ‘gain?” I ask him quickly, listening intently to his directions. 

I swerve around clumps of university students mingling in the halls or walking to their next class. But all I can think about is finding her in the crowd. Of course, I don’t, because there are too many people. And too many heads of hair that look like hers. Taking a left and then a right as Rich said, I rush down a hall. At the end of it is the little Starbucks that I could smell from around the corner. And then once again, I find what I’m looking for. 

But not quite. 

I can't get my feet to move another inch. Because his arm is still around her and she’s laughing at something he said. Staring into his eyes like he painted the stars in the sky. I thought once she looked at me like that, but as I watch them, all of my confidence of that melts away. He hugs her quickly, tickling her side in the progress. And I hear her melodic laugh without a phone in between us for the first time in ages. What’s felt like forever. Something stings deep inside of me watching another man being rewarded with it. 

And it’s not me. 

Not anymore, not for what’s been a long time. 

Huffing, I find my fingers tangled in my hair. They fall as my eyes study her with what tastes like bittersweetness. She looks so cozy in a jumper and jeans. Hair wavy and tucked behind her ears. A dimple falling into her one cheek and a smile in her eyes. Her crystal blues that scream of hidden sadness. She’s even more beautiful up close, and my goodness, how she’s changed. 

I turn around and find my feet pulling me away from her. Because maybe she isn’t my Becks anymore. No, she’s his now. Because I lost her. 

Biting my lip, I round a corner and almost run into somebody. 

“Heeeey. I was looking for you, you left your coat in the lecture hall,” Rich says, holding it out for me to take. “You alright, son?”

“Y-yeah, I jus’ uh thought I saw an old friend. But I guess not.”

“Oh well, that’s a letdown.”

“Yeah, ya can say that,” I reply softly, pulling on my coat one sleeve at a time. 

I listen to Rich’s praises of my speech as I follow him down the hall. Buttoning my coat to busy myself with something. 

“I had a question fer you,” I begin and he encourages me to continue. “I used t’ have an employee by tha name o’ Rebecca Holte at tha firm. I see she’s in yer class I jus’ spoke t’.”

“Oh, Becky? She worked for you? My, that doesn’t surprise me at all. She knows quite a bit about law and it shows in her work. She’s already been in the program, having dropped out a few years prior. But she’s doing really great. One of my best students. I know she’ll make a fantastic lawyer,” he says, shuffling along in his gray coat. Briefcase and thermos in hand.

“Yeah, I do too . . . I didn’ know she enrolled ‘gain in tha program,” I say, choosing my words carefully. The feelings of delayed elation and surprise coming with those words peek at the edge of my sadness. Even though I’m not sure how to phrase them with the chaotic state of my mind at the moment. 

“She started back again this Fall. Has about 30 credits left to go, I reckon. She’s plugging right along, even with her dad’s diagnosis.”

“Yeah, I heard ‘bout that from a coworker. ‘s a right shame. How’s she handlin’ it?” I question, looking up from the tiled floor to meet his eyes framed by graying brows. 

“Oh just fine. Her work is still just as strong. She’s always a light in our discussions, contributing her experience to the topic. I only see her twice a week and we don’t talk very much, what with having 54 students in her cohort. But I think she’s managing. She’s only needed a few extensions since her father started chemotherapy in September, but I couldn’t ask for a better student. Never skips a lecture. Participates. She communicates with me when she needs help. And she’s had a good effect on the class, and has already made some friends in the cohort. She’s going to need those with the tougher classes coming up, and with her dad’s diagnosis,” he informs me. I nod along with his words, savoring them as they’re about her. I itch to ask him about the fellow with his arm around her, but I resist, knowing it wouldn’t be appropriate. 

“Maybe she’ll come back to work for you after the Bar. Circle of Life, eh?” Rich laughs, bumping shoulders with me. I thank him, nodding along with his joke.

We say goodbyes before parting ways. I step back into the chilling rain and he walks into another classroom of students. For shits and giggles, I scan the hallway before leaving. I don’t see her, even though I knew I wouldn’t. 

Pulling up the collar of my coat, I hurry fast through the growing puddles and soggy leaves. Shivering, I hide my hands away in my pockets. I shake my head and take them back out. Removing a ring from my left hand, I slide it onto a different finger with relief. That feels better, I think inwardly before my hands are welcomed by the dryness of my pockets once again. 

Shuffling through the cold rain, I put another step and another between her and me. “Fook,” I mutter aloud when a thought appears in my head. 

I wonder when the next time is that I’ll see her, if ever, it says with a sting. 

+

“Bloody hell, it’s coming down out there,” a voice says, pulling me from my thoughts. Looking up, I find Asher walking towards me. 

Getting up from my chair, I walk over and hug him. 

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” he comments, sliding off his brown jacket.

“No, I only got here a few minutes ago. That snow is no joke.”

“No kidding,” he agrees, taking a seat across the small table from me. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been uh, fine. I’m sorry I’m so bad at replying to texts, things have been crazy.”

“That’s okay, I understand. How has chemo been going for your dad?” Asher asks, trying to tame his crazy hat hair. 

“I guess as good as you can expect it to, with all of the vomiting and other shit it brings. I bought him a bunch of thick shirts and jumpers the other day. He’s even colder without his hair and all the weight he’s lost,” I reply glumly, flipping through the pages of my menu. 

“I’m really sorry, Becky-.”

“I know, it’s okay. Thanks,” I stop him, patting his hand. Something unspoken passes between us. He nods with a small smile. “I’m sorry, it’s just that this is a nice little escape from everything going on. I don’t mean to be rude, but I kinda wanna keep it that way.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize,” Asher says after drinking from his glass of water. A smile curls his lips upward and a little laugh joins us. I ask him ‘what’ and watch a blush color his cheeks. “It’s actually kind of a relief, because I’m always bad at talking about that stuff. I never know the right thing to say, and then I just feel bad the whole time because of it.”

“Thanks for telling me that, and you always do a good job, so shut up,” I tell him, squeezing his hand before we fall into another laugh together. 

“Sooo, what’s new with you since the last time we got lunch? When was that, like in September? When there wasn’t snow on the ground?” 

“Yeah, something like that. Um, not much. Dad’s been doing chemo as you know, and after he’s done with this round, he has surgery. Um, I just wrote a huge paper about serial killing for Criminology which was um, interesting. I got to shadow a local lawyer for a day before then. We studied some pretty disturbing cases in Crim, worked on writing some arguments, and that’s about it,” I confess, my words ending in a laugh. With the next words on the tip of my tongue, they’re stolen away when the waitress arrives to take our order. 

She leaves a pint and a soda for us, making me wish I’d ordered something warm. 

“Sorry, was there more you wanted to say?” Asher asks, bringing the foamy pint to his lips. 

“Uh yeah, I guess,” I answer nervously, smoothing out the square napkin my drink sits on. “Guess who came and talked to my class the other day?” 

“Who?” 

“Harry,” I tell him. Looking up to meet his eyes, I press my lips together in a silent ‘Yeah, I couldn’t believe it, either.’

“You should’ve seen that one coming. I’ve heard he’s done those uni talks for years,” Asher chuckles, pulling a scoff from my lips. But it only encourages him, and his melodic laugh tickles my ears. 

“Yeah I know, but it hit me out of left field. I wanted to hide under my seat, and at the same time, I enjoyed it.” 

“What, do you like him again now? Damn, make up your mind,” Asher teases, and I nod. 

“I know, I know. But he sent me a really nice card . . After I cried to him on the phone about my dad after a bottle of wine. And I don’t know, he was his charming self when he spoke to my class,” I try to explain, hearing an ‘Oh, I’m so surprised’ from Asher. I shake my head with a nervous smile. “I know, but I couldn’t stop eating it up just like everybody else. Ugh, what is wrong with me?”

“A lot of things, but I don’t think we have enough time today to cover those,” he quips. I laugh, mirroring his smile. 

“You know, I like the blonde beard you have going on,” I tease him, drawing an imaginary line around my mouth. 

“Oh shut up. I’m trying it out, okay?” he says in defense, holding his pint up. His nervous smile paints crinkles by his eyes. Along with pink on his hairy cheeks. 

Shaking his head, he sets his pint down before adjusting the salmon collar of his zip-up sweater. 

“It’s fine with me,” I say, holding my hands up in defense. His laugh fills my ears as I reach for my soda. 

A silence fills the space between us, for lack of better words. The telly above the nearby bar fills our silence, along with the chattering of the lunch crowd. 

“He was wearing a ring, Asher,” I say slowly, my voice absent of smiles and laughs. Daring to look, I meet eyes with him. They’re soft and serious now as he takes a pull from his pint of beer. “On his ring finger,” I finish with one of those smiles you force to assure them you’re okay, even though you’re not.

Twirling my straw in the sea of dark soda and ice, I wait. But then I can’t wait any longer. “Do you know if-.”

“I don’t, Becky. I’m sorry. I hardly see him, since I’m on the other side in I.T.,” he begins, walking over my words. But I welcome it, the saving. “I wish I could say I’d have heard about a wedding or engagement, but I don’t really hear anything about him. The few times I’ve seen him I haven’t paid close attention. But you know, maybe it just didn’t fit on any other finger.” I nod in silence, trying to deflect the emotions. Wishing I could drown them in the fizzing soda I stare into. They only hurt more when I realize that I can’t. 

“I hate that I even care, but all of a sudden I did again when my dad told me about his cancer. I wanted to run to Harry and tell him. I don’t know why, after everything I went through,” I reveal with difficulty. “And then I called him when I was drunk, because I had this strange desire to. I hardly remember it, or try not to, and then that damn card came in the mail. And messed everything up,” I confess, covering my eyes with my hands. 

“Yeah, feelings are just great, aren’t they?” Asher quips with tension throughout his voice. 

Somehow I laugh and drop my hands to find him staring at his drink. “See, that’s what I was saying before. People get sad in front of me and ask for advice. And I-I just . . . gum up. And start telling jokes, like Chandler Bing, because I don’t know what the fuck else to do.”

“It’s okay. I like the reality check,” I tell him, smiling. He nods gratefully, wiping the beery foam from his upper lip. 

“Do you think it means anything, you caring about him again all of a sudden again?”

“Well, if I said I stopped caring about him, I’d be lying. That’s what fucking got me here,” I reply honestly. The waitress appears at that exact moment with our appetizer.

I couldn’t be happier for the rescue from my own words. 

But it scares me to say them out loud, because that’s when they become real on a whole other level. And I’m already struggling to accept the “feeling them” part. 

After hugging Asher with tummies full of pizza, I rush to my car. Finally escaping the blustery wind, I close the door. Huffing out a ghost of a breath, I crank the heating in my car. Closing my eyes, I sit back and wait for it to warm up. Then a memory I forgot about until Asher reminded me of it comes back to me. It starts unfolding inside of my head before I can stop it.

“Do I have any messages?” somebody asks. 

Looking up from my cup of tea, I find Harry smiling above me. Now that is an odd sight indeed.

“Um no, you don’t have any messages, Mr. Styles,” I reply, folding my hands in my lap awkwardly. “Why the big smile?”

His hard green eyes meet mine, but they soften. Raising his eyebrows at me, his lips melt into a smile. “I said t’ call me Harry. And I jus’ finished talkin’ t’ a class of law students, somethin’ I always enjoy,” he answers, walking away from the table where I sit. 

“Yes, Harry . . What do you enjoy about it?” I ask, stirring the spoon in circles. Watching the little tornado form in the brown liquid, I wait for his answer. I’m not sure how a crabby pants like him would enjoy having anything to do with uni students. 

With the shuffling of moving food around in the fridge, he says, “”s just great t’ see new faces comin’ into law. Their enthusiasm ’s unmatched too, ‘cause they ‘ave dis love fer law that I dunno how many lawyers even ‘ave anymo’. ‘Cause o’ that, they hang onto yer every word.”

“And they probably flirt with you too, I bet,” I joke softly. I raise my head at a noise, watching him pour a cup of tea. But that’s not the noise. It’s his tittering laugh that I’ve only heard a few times now. 

“Um,” he struggles, laughing nervously. “I can’t deny that, nor confirm it.”

“You liar! They sooooo flirt with you!” I counter.

“An’ what would make ya say that?” Harry asks, turning to face me. 

Cocking an eyebrow, he challenges me, and yanks my answer away. Or any kind of answer I had. But I definitely can’t say that I think that because I’m a college-aged female who thinks he’s cute. Well, more than cute, but I’m trying not to let myself get that far. But it’s hard to deny my feelings, when his mere presence or even name puts butterflies in my stomach. 

“Ah, not so confident anymo’, now are we?” he smirks. I laugh too, shaking my head and letting it fall. I worry he can already read my answer from my expression. But I try not to worry. I’m relieved when he doesn’t blurt my answer into thin air. That would make it even more real. “No, yer right. They do it quite a lot - flirt with me. It depends on tha class, an’ well, how many girls are innit. Sometimes ’s not so bad, an’ otha times ’s annoyin’, ‘cause well, I have a girlfriend. An’ ‘m there t’ talk to ‘em ‘bout law, not t’ get their phone numba,” he finishes. Again, he rips the words right from my mouth with his own. Because he had to bring her up. Amber. And ruin the blissful ignorance I had for the moment, forgetting that he has a girlfriend. 

Fuck.

Bringing the steaming cup of tea to my lips, I try to drown my words with it. Staring at the table, I don’t know what words there are left to say besides, “Yeah, I suppose that could be hard.”

“Oh yes, very awkward at times,” Harry responds, setting his tea down on the counter before walking away. “I mean, ‘s like I can’t outright tell ‘em I don’ want their numba. It’d all stop there if I did, but I can’ really go there.”

“Yeah, that would probably just make it even more awkward,” I drone on.

“‘Xactly,” he responds. My eyes follow him as they often do. His actions bring a question to my lips. 

“Since when do you do puzzles?” I ask after watching him fiddle with the 500 piecer lying at the other end of the table. “I didn’t know you were getting that old.”

“Oh, hush you. ‘m barely older than yerself,” he smiles, trying to connect two pieces of the Autumn puzzle.

“Really, and how old am I again?” I say sarcastically, testing him. An accidental smile tickles at his lips, but he tries to hold it back. It breaks loose after he slowly looks over at me. “You have no idea, do you?!” I exclaim, voice rising by a few octaves.

His face dissolves into an embarrassed laugh. “What? ‘m sorry. Ya look so young!”

“Wow, good excuse!” I respond, rising from my chair. Soon I’m staring down at puzzle pieces standing next to him. “I’m 24 by the way, only three years younger than you.”

“Oh yeahhhh, dat sounds familiar now,” he replies knowingly.

“Sure it does,” I mutter, trying to place a piece but it doesn’t fit. 

“Why ya sayin’ ‘m old? ‘m only 27, ya know. Tha’s not old.”

“You’re more closer to 30 than you are to 20. Now, how does that make you feel?” I pose to him. With an ‘aha,’ I fit a piece to complete a pumpkin sitting on a doorstep. 

“Old . . . Hey now, that was rude,” Harry counters, giving me a sad look. It only makes me smile a little bit. 

Picking up a piece splattered with shades of yellow, I accidentally bump shoulders with him. 

“Yeah, well you’re working your way to being an old man. Doing puzzles and not liking uni students,” I divulge, feeling the edge to my voice. But the words couldn’t sit on my tongue any longer. 

“Heeeeey, I neva said I disliked uni students. Jus’ . . . some o’ ‘em are irritatin’ an’ far too flirty. Bloody hell, wha’s gotten into you t’day, love?” Harry chirps.

“That’s what you get for not remembering how old I am, and for calling me young. Do you know how many times I still get carded?” I groan somewhat jokingly. Setting down that piece, I forget it by picking up another. I scoff when Harry giggles after fitting another piece in. 

“Don’ be so sensitive, Becky. I bet I could even tell ya when yer birthday ‘s,” he bets. Looking up curiously, I meet his playful eyes. 

“I bet you couldn’t,” I challenge him. 

His cherry lips bend into an effortless smile. My eyes leave them when his hand comes into view. Pulling away the strand of hair from in front of my eyes, I follow his fingers when he tucks it behind my ear. “June fifteenth,” he mumbles softly. Trying to push away the blush warming my cheeks, I clear my throat. 

Nodding, I smile and say, “Good job. You got one right for once.” Breaking the special yet awkward eye contact, I look back to the puzzle. 

“I can rememba birthdays fine, ‘m jus’ not good at tha age thing.”

“Mmmm. I guess lawyers only have to be good at remembering dates,” I comment smiling. With a huff, I drop my piece of the puzzle and return to my chair. 

“Yeah, tha’s an important bit. What, ya give up already?” Harry replies. He bites his bottom lip as he looks at the lonely pieces, eyebrows in a tangle. 

“I don’t have the patience for puzzles.”

“Tha’s why ya only work at ‘em a li’l bit atta time. A few pieces, an’ then ya do a few more in an hour or so. Wheneva yer bored. My gran’ likes t’ do ‘em while she’s watchin’ tha telly, or in between chores,” he reveals, distracted by a blue jigsaw piece. 

“Mmmmmm, that’s a good idea,” I tell him. Scrolling through my phone, I exit out of Instagram after tiring of seeing everybody post relationship pictures. 

With a jealous sigh, I lock my phone and lose myself in my boring cup of tea. Again. Wondering when the puzzle pieces of my life will fall together, like it seems so many others have. 

The people on Instagram. 

Even Harry’s, I think as I steal a peek at him. 

Swallowing, I suddenly think of the puzzle piece I want to find most of all. And that perhaps it’s not that I haven’t found it yet, it’s because it doesn’t fit, I realize as my eyes study him. Hands in hair. Chunky rings on his fingers. A pastel suit on. And a contagious smile on his face. All of this ignites another swarm of butterflies within my tummy. 

If only he fit into the puzzle that’s my life. 

+

Yawning, I rub my eyes. I sit up, wincing at sore spots from the uncomfortable chair. Unbelievably, the clock reads only 8:39 pm. It feels much later than that, I think, but after the events of today, I was tired at 4 o’clock. Habitually peeking at the black screen by the bed, I feel relief when I see his steady numbers. Blood pressure. Heart rate. Oxygen levels. The rhythmic beeping assures me all is well too, but I don’t feel that way when I look down at my dad. I can’t see his blue eyes, because they’re still closed. There are all of these wires on him, and a tube down his throat. It’s already hard enough to see, without arguing in the background.

“For the love of christ, would you two stop it? If you’re going to do it, do it in the bloody hallway,” I snap at them. Getting up from my chair, I grab my purse and leave. 

Ignoring the sound of my name, I keep walking until I no longer hear it. I had to get out. They were crying and fighting and the doctor’s words weren’t making sense anymore. I just can’t take it anymore, like a typical tv show character would say. My steps echo down the hallway as the guilt eats away at me with every step. Emotions run around inside of me. 

Anguish one moment. 

Then frustration. 

Overwhelmed. 

Frustrated. 

Tired. 

Fed up. 

Sad. 

Mad. 

The humming welcomes me first, before I arrive in front of the line of vending machines that have been my sole solace during my time here. The number of visits being more than I can remember. The fluorescent lights advertising the packaged goods burns, and yet calms my eyes. Hmmm, what shall we have today, Becky? Sour gummy worms? Chocolate cupcakes? Doritos? Salted nut rolls? Granola bars? 

“Don’ get tha chocolate chip cookies. They look far betta than they actually are,” a voice suggests from behind me. There’s a spark of something inside the walls of my brain during the second before I turn around. “Trust me, I was tha one who wasted a few pounds on ‘em,” they continue. 

I watch the last few words leave the lips of its owner after I slowly turn around. Those cherry lips reach higher to the sky the longer I stand there. I watch the dimples crease his cheeks. The eyes I’ve looked into and missed too many times to count, crinkle with his smile.