#I can’t believe this guy grew up to be a brilliant genius just from having too much unmonitored screen time as a kid

[sacriou]

you wanted drawing requests so uh.... clive being evil?

Spreading misinformation, conspiracy, embezzlement, disclosing government files, illegal sales trade, having an attitude, domestic terrorism, pyramid scam, tax evasion, leaking personal information, piracy… and that’s just scratching the surface of possibilities

[bigwhispersbluebird]

BTS reaction when they are jealous  (Hyung Line)

Author’s Note: I often read a lot of reaction based fics and realize that perhaps my take on it is a little different. So here it goes. Do tell me if you like it or agree or just anything. Also, I am new to this so excuse me for any mistakes. Thanksss

Warnings: None

Seokjin or Jin

He watched from far as a man in his 20s approached you from behind as you finished the call you had excused yourself to attend. Judging from your reaction, he concluded that you knew the guy. Even though he couldn’t hear a word, your comfortable laugh, the way you slightly hit his shoulder while talking and mimicked his body language, Jin felt a weird irk inside him.

Don’t misunderstand, Kim Seokjin was very confident about himself but there was a part of him that often wondered if he was enough. He might be handsome but there were more handsome people around. He was not the smartest or the most athletic and he came with a load of baggage. So much that he couldn’t cross the room to where you were standing and openly declare that you were his gorgeous and brilliant girlfriend.

His thoughts were intruded by the chime of his phone. 

“You okay?”, your text read and he looked up to spot you a few tables away. The young stranger gone now and your eyes only on him. 

“No. I am Jin”, he replied in his usual manner, trying to hide the truth, cracking the worst joke ever in the process and wincing at himself as soon as he sent it.

He watched as you laughed unabashedly as soon as you saw the screen, your eyes glistening and he realized that this laugh was just for him. 

“You must be really in love with me if you laughed at that”, he sent and watched as you read and suddenly the same look overtook your face that he had seen on himself so many times when he was with you. 

He only took his eyes off you when his phone chimed again.

“Of course. Who else would ever compare?”

Yoongi or Suga

This was getting annoying for him. Yoongi would call himself a pretty calm person especially after the ten years of life as an artist had made him immune to almost everything happening around him. But this was getting on his nerves. 

You had walked into HYBE tonight and after just being at Genius Lab for a few minutes, you had asked about Do-Yan and went to seek him as soon as Yoongi told you that he must be in PDogg’s studio. Had it been a one time occurrence, Yoongi wouldn’t even have cared enough to think much into it but after this becoming a routine, he was over it. 

Do-Yan was a talented young producer who was contracted for TXT’s new album. You were heavily involved in the A&R activities of BigHit Music and were actually the person who had discovered Do-Yan. In your perspective, he could be a great asset and while he was just here on a temporary basis, you wished to persuade him to sign him as a BigHit producer permanently. PDogg had agreed with you and now you both were on the task of convincing him to stay. 

Unaware of this all, Yoongi decided to do something about the situation. As he typed the messages to the management team, he knew that this was very petty of him but he was beyond the point of caring right now. 

The next time you asked him about Do-Yan, Yoongi did not look up from his computer as he said, “He has been moved”. 

“What?”, you were shocked to say the least. “Moved? What do you mean moved?”

“He will be working with Bang PD directly now so he will be in the other building.”

“So, he signed the contract?”

Now Yoongi was getting agitated, “Why do you care so much?”, he had turned his seat around and was now only focusing on you. His tone was still calm but inside he was screaming.

Oblivious to the storm inside him you said, “Why wouldn’t I? He must have else he would not have said yes to that since...”, Yoongi was not even listening anymore. 

“He did. I talked to the management myself and got him to say yes”, Yoongi said. His voice low and his back now turned to you. “You can move there as well if you want to see him and care about him so much”.

“You...but you didn’t know”, suddenly all the pieces fell into place in your mind and you scolded yourself mentally for not noticing it yourself. 

“Yoongi”, you called out to him softly as you moved closer to his chair. “Jagiya”, you called again as you kneeled beside his chair, taking his hand lightly in yours. 

“I just wanted him to join the company so I was spending most of my time on that. I am sorry that I did not clear it to you. I’ll make up for all the lost time now that you’ve got it done”. 

Yoongi couldn’t even remember what he was angry about as you placed yourself on his lap, pulling him close to leave a gentle kiss on his lips. 

After a while your phone rang and you announced that you had to go for a meeting. As you inched closer to the door, you remembered something and without even turning around you said:

“I can’t believe you got him moved”

You closed the door behind you but not before hearing his low chuckle.

Hoseok or J-Hope or Hobi 

“I think Yeonjun and I should perform on something more sexy?”, you said with your eyes fixated on his face waiting for a reaction.

His eyebrows furrowed and then as if thinking about it, he immediately turned to you, nodding, “Yes, I think it will work great with both of your stage personalities”.

You were surprised. This was not the answer that you were expecting. You had hoped that he would get jealous like all those TikTok boyfriends. 

But you were not going to be dejected so easily. 

“Why don’t you help with the choreography?”, you suggested, a plan already forming in your head. 

“Y/N, I would have been offended had you not asked me”, he said as he showed off his gorgeous smile.

After a few days when you three started working on the performance, you tried to make Hobi jealous. You would suggest even more suggestive moves but he would just think about them and excitedly agree to them or politely decline saying how it does not fit with the steps. 

He would watch as you danced, concentrated and focused, but unwavering. 

After weeks of this charade, you grew tired and when Yeonjun excused himself to leave for a music show you exasperatedly sighed in front of Hobi who was monitoring the recently shot dance practice video of yours. 

“I don’t think you even care about me”.

“Huh?!”, Hobi was bewildered. “What?!”

“Yeah, you don’t care if I go throw myself in someone else’s arms”, your voice was loud in the empty dance studio. You lowered it again, “you don’t care”.

“Y/N”, Hobi was now closer to you, looking straight into your eyes. “I care. I care a lot. I care that this performance is amazing because this is a great opportunity for you. I care that your steps show exactly how good of a dancer you are. I care and that is why I would never let anybody else do it instead of me”. 

You were surprised. This was not what you were looking for but it was a pleasant difference. 

“And I would care if it was not a performance. I would, I do care if anyone even looks at you in the wrong way but I would never take it out on you. I want you to be able to perform without worrying what I would take it as. I want you to be loved by everyone in the audience”. 

His arms slowly snaked around your waist and under your sweatshirt, “just not the way that I do”.

Namjoon or RM

Namjoon had watched you the entire night, his eyes refusing to leave your figure as you rushed around the venue making sure everything was perfect. 

It was the last concert of the tour and you as the tour manager were adamant on making it memorable and smooth. Double-checking everything, you finally allowed yourself a moment of peace as you saw your boyfriend rehearse his performance for Trivia:  Love. 

Namjoon locked eyes with you, smiling and rapping his lines as if talking to you. Suddenly, you felt the weight of something on your shoulders and you looked away from the stage realizing that it was your assistant, Alan, who had just covered you with his jacket. You smiled gratefully as he extended a hand holding your coffee. 

“You should rest for a while before we meet back for sound check”, he suggested and you looked at your watch to see that he was right. Tonight was going to be hectic and a power nap was definitely needed.

You had not even realized that the stage was now empty and the leader was standing right by your side. His eyes were not on you, but on the man now sitting beside you, glancing at his jacket on your shoulders. 

Shrugging the jacket off, you asked, “Are you done? Any issues?”. 

Not answering your question, Namjoon kept staring at Alan and you felt bad for the poor guy. You asked again and this time Namjoon’s lips turned into a smile, “None, jagiya”. Jagiya?! 

Now you were the one staring daggers at him but he did not waver. Instead, with the same smile plastered on his lips, he took off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders, pulling the zipper closer together as he made his way to where Alan was sitting. Alan immediately got up, excusing himself and vacating the seat that now your boyfriend occupied, his hand reaching across your shoulder to pull you into him. 

You resisted. 

“ ‘Jagiya’. Really?! Really, Namjoon?”

He just smiled at that, genuinely this time. “Come on, you know I lose all calm when it comes to you”.

“Calm and senses, both”, you murmured as he laughed and pulled you closer and you let him, closing your eyes and resting before work would call you again.

[bensonsbreakdowns]

Eighteen | T. Holland

Summary → you’re tired of feeling like the world silences you, but after an interview with sebastian and anthony, you start to wonder if maybe it’s your fault.

Warning(s) → mentions of anxiety, mentions of sexual harassment, mentions of inequality in gender roles, use of the word slut, fluff if you squint 

Word Count → 1.9k

Note → this is a heavier topic, one that might be personal to some. if you don’t think you can handle the subject matter, please don’t force yourself to. this is relatively watered down, but it doesn’t take a genius to see what’s not being said. the ending features boyfriend!tom consoling the reader, so it does end on a fluffy note, but don’t hold out for those few ending paragraphs. 

add yourself to my taglist 

It’s getting hotter in the interviews. A thin layer of sweat sparkles on your skin, and even though the air conditioning has been turned down multiple times, there are too many people in the room to feel any drastic differences. It’s unfortunate for you. Hot flashes are a lovely addition to your anxiety disorder, and press always sets your nerves ablaze. It doesn't matter what project you’re promoting, who you're partnered with, or what you're wearing-- you’re always hot. 

Your cheeks are flushed dangerously when the last interview before lunch is called for yourself, Sebastian, and Anthony. This is your first press tour as an adult. You joined the marvel franchise years ago, when being eighteen felt like the equivalent of turning thirty, and you weren’t blind to the changes of tone. People were harsher to you, more forward. If they weren’t shutting you up, they were hinting at something less then appropriate, usually something sexual. 

The next interview started with a short introduction to the media outlet, and your interviewer. He was middle aged, kind smile, salt and pepper hair. He asked for your names, then he told you his, and one by one he shook your hands. His grip on you was criminal, lasting longer than was comfortable. Sebastian and Anthony we’re oblivious to the few extra seconds of contact between you and him, but it made your skin crawl in a familiar discomfort. 

Your fingers curled into fists, heart high in your throat. The questions started out easy. They were mostly directed towards the boys, like always, but this time you couldn’t find yourself to be annoyed. You had dealt with handsy and sexually charged men before, but he set a fire beneath you. It wasn’t behavior you should tolerate, but being a woman in the industry, inappropriate touches and glances we’re easier ignored then dealt with. When you spoke up you caused drama, made headlines, attracted nasty social media comments that called you a whore. It was easier to just internalize. 

“Y/N.” 

You hummed, looking towards the call of your name. He was smiling sweetly at you again, a predatory glint in his eyes that put you on edge. You shifted your weight closer to Anothony unconsciously giving the hungry man your professional attention and a nod. 

He shuffles through his index cards, but his eyes don’t read the scripted questions his employers have supplied him with. It’s not often male interviews do their own research, usually they’re briefed by a colleague and handed a set of questions and topic point by a higher level employee, but this man doesn’t even read the card before he’s staring you down and opening his mouth. 

“You finally got the Stark suit update,” He says, motioning towards the promo poster that shows off your CGI suit in all of its edited glory. Although the actual costume is breathtaking, the computer effects give it an entirely different, more technologically charged, feel. 

“Yeah,” You nod, a forced smile on your lips as you try to ease the uncomfortable tension from your tone. “She’s finally--” 

He cuts you off before you can give him any explanation for the upgrade. He isn’t the first one to address your new wardrobe, but he’s the first one to leave you antsy and uncomfortable. Sebastian frowns when you’re cut off, but he doesn’t think much of it. He lets the man continue, though a professional sharpness pulls his grin into a scowl. 

“Were you able to wear undergarments underneath it? It’s tight, doesn’t leave much to the imagination. Was there ever a moment where you reflected how much your wardrobe has changed through the years?” He asks, a dirty grin on his lips. 

Sebastian and Anthony are shocked at the blunt, inappropriate construction of his question. The public eye knew nothing of your battles with body image, or health concerns that lead to surgery. Your mind was plagued with doubts and self-criticism, and his invasive, pervy question both infuriated you and broke you apart. 

You stutter to find an answer, heat overwhelming you. Your hand grips onto Anthony’s arm, and you can’t decide whether anger is what burns your skin or anxiety. Are you making a big deal of this? You don’t know. You feel like you have every right to feel violated and uncomfortable, but you’re a young woman in the entertainment industry, isn’t this the kind of ignorant commentary you signed up for? You don’t know anymore. You grew up with people always having an opinion on your appearance, sexualizing you as early as twelve. You’ve carried around pepper spray and  self-defense keychains long before you even had an understanding towards predatory men and sexual assault. You’ve been conditioned by the world and the media to carry on with your day, no matter the broken boundaries or disrespect. You’re tired of remaining silent, feeling like your less than your male counterparts. Women and men should hold no differing values in society, and yet you walk to your apartment with keys between your fingers and Tom doesn’t even lock his front door. 

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate question.” You choke out, voice hard and nowhere near the soft and frilly pitch it usually obtains. You’re livid, absolutely pissed to the point of a quivering cupids bow. You’re humiliated, and horrified. Your feelings are everywhere, but you remain as professional as you can. If you yell, try to defend yourself at all, you’ll be painted as a diva in every media outlet for the next week, subliminally inviting backlash and slut-shaming comments into your social media messages. If Sebastian and Anthony come to your defense, they’ll be sung high-praises. 

The double standards men and women are held to, especially in the industry, is infuriating. 

He stumbles out a response, but his time is already up. For the first time today, you’re thankful these interviews are only ten minutes. He leaves the room, shown out by security, and even then he still sends you a wink over his shoulder as if your glimmering eyes meant nothing. 

“Hey,” Sebastian's voice is soft, his hand on the small of your back. You flinch away from his contact, head heavy in memories you’d rather forget. 

“Sorry,” You mumble, voice trembling with tears that you refuse to let fall. You’ve already been humiliated, you don’t need to further paint yourself as some helpless teenage girl. “I’m sorry. I’m going to go find Tom.” 

Anthony and Sebastian nod tightly. They watch as you quiver in your heels, hands clenched into fists at your sides. They’re proud of the way you handled yourself, though still absolutely enraged that any adult would find it appropriate to address you like that, especially in a professional setting. 

You stumble into the dressing rooms, right into your boyfriend's chest. Your mind is racing, but the minute you attach yourself to him, you break down. Shy sobs break Tom’s heart. He holds the back of your head to his chest, other hand on the small of your back and wrapped around your waist as you cry. You’re trying to stay quiet, but the attention is already on you. Chris and Robert are worried, and Zoe’s trying to act like she hasn’t noticed, but they don’t all watch as you try to console yourself with your boyfriend's warmth. 

“What happened?” Tom’s voice is soft, trying to keep this a private moment. He tries to move the both of you back into a corner, but you panic and squeeze around his waist tighter. “Baby,” 

You and Tom have been dating for six months, and although you’ve shared with him stories of your traumatic experiences as a woman living in LA, he’s never seen anything upset you like this. 

“I’m such a slut.” Your words come out so shy and small, you aren’t even sure you can hear yourself. No matter how  many times you tell yourself that your makeup and clothes don’t give men permission to make passes or feel you up, it’s getting harder to believe that your verbal consent is as strong as your clothes. Maybe you are asking for it, and in a wave of nausea, disgusted with yourself, your arms leave Tom’s waist to pull at the bottom of your borrowed dress. 

You’ve been hit on in sweats before. In ball gowns and crop tops. Somebody’s even pushed themselves against you while you wore Tom’s hoodie, but you still convince yourself that it’s your fault. That you we’re asking for it. 

Tom’s jaw sets harshly into place, and he tilts your chin upwards to meet his eye. His brown stare is hard, only adding to your distress. Maybe he agrees. Maybe he’ll blame you for what just happened. He’s probably going to break up with you. Other guys just can’t keep their hands and eyes off of you. He doesn’t want a slut for a girlfriend. 

“What the fuck did you just say, Y/N?” His tone causes you to flinch, words bouncing off of the dressing room walls. Everyone flinches, hearing only his heavy response. You try to divert your attention, but Tom squeezes your jaw, forcing your eyes back on his. “Say it again.” 

“I’m such a slut.” You sniffle, submitting beneath his fiery glare. Tensions are high as you try not to break down again. Apart from Tom, everyone in the room has watched you grow up, never losing that shy and sweet sense of yourself. You’re an exuberant light, a brilliant scene partner, a rising star who has big things in store for the future. You are many things, but a slut, isn’t one of them. 

Tom looks behind you, glaring straight at Anthony and Sebastion who are both stone eyed and still. They’ve not calmed down any since leaving the production room, instead, it seems their anger has only risen. The sight of you so distraught churns their stomachs. 

“Some asshole tried to make a pass.” Sebastion said in short, words angry and delivered as such. 

Tom’s breath hitched, his arms tightening around you and pulling you closer to his chest. His chin digs into your crown, eyes pinches shut as his hot exhale feels heavy. 

“You aren’t a slut, Y/N.” He doesn’t leave any room for argument, but you try anyways. Tom has no patience for it, and so he tilts your head back and plants his lips against yours harshly and eagerly, desperate to show you love and intimacy. “You. Aren’t. A. Slut.”

You nod, ducking your head back down into his chest as you try to believe him-- try to remember that you never asked for hands around your waist, or cupping your boobs. Wolf whistles, or handshakes that turn into forced frontal hugs. You didn’t ask for any of the harassment, no matter the outfits you wore and what they revealed.  

Tom lowers his voice, whispers melting into your hair, “This isn’t your fault, baby. Please believe me. None of this, is your fault. It’s disgusting and inappropriate, and you don’t deserve to deal with any of it.” 

You sniffle. You can’t tell him you believe him, not yet. Not when your heart is so heavy. Maybe one day you’ll believe him, but that’s just not now. 

taglist (urls with a strike through won’t let my tag) →

@deionswannabegirl @killingbxys @mauvesdior @mischiefandi @dmonchld @waddlenut @tanakaslastbraincell @hollandsxheart @quacksonhehe @tothemoonandbackx3000 @stiles-o-dylan24 @tikapollak @tomthetease @spookybooisa @geminiparkers @teen--marvel @rogersparkerbarnes @sarcasticallywitty15

[youarejesting]

Even the Cake is in tiers

Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All Pairing: Namjoon  Jin x Reader Genre: fluff, angst, drama, slice of life, almost wedding day.  Words: 4k

Summary: About to marry the man of your dreams in less than one week. 90 guests invited. Venue booked. Family overwhelming yet appeased. Nothing could go wrong... unless you count your soon to be mother in law slipping you a cursed present, and inviting your fiances high school sweetheart. The Kim family is full of secrets. 92 Plates set.

[Request] @insfirebunny​ - I strayed a little from your ask I am sorry. I went with cursed instead of demon. I had a lot of fun with the puns, I love Jin just breaking all the awkward silences with a pun, and the reader slowly warming up to them.

This was the most important week of your life, your family and your soon-to-be husband's family were coming together for one week in a huge country club. You were on edge, your fiance was a brilliant businessman, he was a genius, and the kindest man you had the pleasure of meeting. In a week this brilliant, kind, and clumsy young man would be your husband till death do you part.

You met Kim Namjoon in your senior year, you were in a similar department. As a business major yourself there were a lot of opportunities to cross paths. Between the projects and the department dinners, the two of you naturally grew closer. Coffee and studying became dinner and movies as you proudly courted Namjoon like a proper lady. 

Insisting to pay And spoil the young man was the best way to spoil him. Normally he was too shy to speak up about what he wanted, but you were very perceptive. Always noticing the way his eyes would repeatedly glance towards the item or shop. With a small curious lift of his eyebrows, he would press his lips firmly together with a face he made when he read or saw something interesting in a book or movie and a dead giveaway to his interests and desires.

You first made the connection when passing an arcade, Namjoon’s eyes lit up sparkling as he spotted the small blue Koala stuffed toy. He walked closer to the claw machine and you watched his features change into the very same curious expression.

It felt like a rush of satisfaction when you had successfully retrieved the soft plush from the crane and presented it to the beautiful man. It warmed your heart to know that you could make this magnificent guy smile and so you made it your hobby and pastime. You couldn’t be more in love with him and you knew he was in love with you.

The only problem lied with his mother, who was upset that he wanted to marry someone who wasn’t from South Korea. This was understandable, the idea that different was scary was ingrained into most people, you tried to be respectful and always show your best qualities. 

Honestly, you were just hoping that you could keep both sides of the family happy for one week. ONE WEEK. Then you would be married and you could live your lives together. The Country club was full of life, filled with distant relatives from each party and young children running around the grounds pulling pranks on their cousins.

With a polite bow and well-behaved mannerisms, you were on the road to charming Namjoon’s parents. It surprised you how civil they were and how his mother had yet to say something against you. The ladies were enjoying high tea when your mother-in-law presented you with a gift.

A small wooden jewelry box, engraved with strange symbols some you swore felt a little sinister. She gave you instructions to open it later that night when you were alone. Taking her words seriously you were going to fulfill her request hoping not to offend anyone’s traditions.

Leaving the dining hall early with the box in hand you were wondering what could possibly be inside. It was so nice that Namjoon’s mother was so accepting of you, taking the time to get you a gift. 

Shutting the door behind you, you glanced at the garment bag, which housed your wedding dress. It took a while to find the perfect dress but you knew it was the one when it fit everyone's expectations. It was the perfect amount of beautiful and conservative as well as sexy and fun.

Sitting on the large bed you missed cuddling with Namjoon, the two of you had been waiting for marriage and to be honest it wasn’t a big deal. You both were more interested in intertwining your lives than your bodies. Opening the wooden box, the weight increased until it collapsed onto the floor salt spilling onto the floor. You saw footprints in the salt and as they appeared across the floor soon followed ankles, calves, and knees. 

Mesmerized by the man materializing in front of your eyes, at least you believed he was a man. The smirk and the god-tier features on a flawless face. Who was this man and what was he doing in your room? He pulled his plump lips into a pointed grin, his eyes flashing as they landed on your frozen form. His gaze didn’t linger for long before your vision faded.

~

What a strange dream you had, you had heard that brides often had horrible dreams leading up to their wedding but this felt so real. Sitting up from the soft fluffy blankets you squealed when you saw the handsome young man sitting on the beautiful chaise by the window.

“I don’t know how you got into my room, but you need to leave?” Your voice held no authority and no strength, your lips shaking with every breath, tears prickling behind your eyes. “Are you from the Kim Family, I can help you find your room?”

“I am from the Kim family, but I can’t leave your side. You opened the box in which I was captured many years ago.” He said simply enjoying fruit in the sun, you noticed he was wearing traditional Korean clothes and had longer hair. There was something about the way he looked that made him look so ethereal and out of place. 

“Who are you?” You said, sure now that this was some sort of prank being played by the Kim family so you decided to play along.

“Kim Seokjin,” He grinned looking at the door as someone knocked.

“Hello dear, are you coming down for breakfast,” Namjoon’s voice broke you from the daze you fell in when admiring Seokjin’s face?

Running to the door you opened it and gave him a kiss on the cheek, “I will be down soon, let me get dressed.”

~

Walking to the dining hall Seokjin followed you around, it seemed no matter what turn you took, you couldn’t run away. He had however changed his appearance which scared you beyond belief. His long hair was cut short and a fine suit that mirrored the one on the cover of a magazine strewn on the coffee table. Stepping into the dining hall you saw Namjoon’s mother smiling wickedly in the corner as Namjoon was hugging a young woman, the two grinning and talking adamantly.

“Hey Joonie, I am here.” You smiled trying to gain his attention again, you didn’t have to worry, this would be his relative of some kind and you were to be his wife so you had nothing to worry about. Right?

“Hey, Y/n this is my old high school friend Bom, we have been best friends since we were young, I didn’t even know she was coming but mum said it was a surprise. Isn’t that great my soulmate at my wedding?”

Oof that hurt. You knew he didn’t mean it to sound the way it did and you were happy as long as he was happy. Having in fact heard of this friend on multiple occasions from him. She was beautiful and everything you knew Namjoon’s mother wanted in her son’s bride. The leading factor being she was Korean.

“Namjoon tells me so much about you,” You smiled and she shook your hand and grinned. 

“Let me tell you somethings about him then to even the playing field,” Her smile was genuine and she sat at breakfast Seokjin silently taking a seat at the table. She was quick to refuse some food by the waiter, “I can't, I am allergic to seafood.”

“That must be a bit of a hassle.” You didn’t know what to say and the silence was getting awkward. Seokjin chuckled reaching for an apple from the center fruit bowl. “I am glad you are getting your apple-y ever after.”

That did it. Chuckles all around and a small knowing smirk from Namjoon’s mother, Seokjin lied saying his name was Taejin and that he preferred just Jin. 

After breakfast that you pulled Namjoon aside, “Hey Joonie?” you asked

“Yes dear, what is it?”

“Who is Kim Seokjin, your mother was talking about him last night?” The question had been burning in your mind all morning and now that you two were alone you felt safe enough to ask him.

“Haha, did my mother tell you that old story? She is a superstitious woman,” Namjoon was laughing to himself before he gathered himself enough to answer your question seriously. “Back in the day, when Korea was still ruled by monarchs, the Kim family had different uh factions, the noblemen and the servants. One of the Kim Noblemen was supposed to marry the most beautiful young woman in town. But on the day of the wedding a young man named Kim Seokjin, part of the servants of the family, was throwing petals with the other servants and caught the bride's attention.”

“What happened then?” You pressed further watching said man from behind your fiance’s shoulder. As he listened watching the small television in the corner playing a murder mystery K-Drama.

“Well, it was said that Kim Seokjin charmed the woman and stole her from the wedding, stealing her away crying. It was said that when he found his bride he locked Seokjin in an ornate box, a family heirloom passed down through generations.” Namjoon smiled, kissing your cheek enthusiastically. “I have to go, Bom says she is going to challenge me today in golf.”

“I heard you stole someone's bride and were trapped in a box,” you muttered

“Ah is that what they believe, it’s funny how stories change over time. I didn’t steal anyone, she tried to call off the wedding before it even began and in a fit of jealousy I was almost beheaded but was cursed into the box.” Seokjin laughed, “I am not someone who steals someone’s lover.”

“But she looks like she would,” Seokjin muttered while leaning over the balcony, looking down over the side you could see Namjoon laughing at Bom hanging off his arm. Jealousy felt like sickness in the depths of your stomach. A queasy feeling that burnt its way up to your throat.

“Namjoon isn’t like that,” you defended your fiance, he was a sweet bean who only knew how to love with his whole heart, “He is a nice guy who wouldn’t dream of cheating on anyone.”

There was a small pause as your thoughts wandered to what-ifs, you trusted Namjoon but could you trust her. “Look if you trust him that’s great but I know a thing or two about the Kim family and when they find something they want, nothing can stop them or stand in their way until they get it. So he might want you now but what if these days leading up to the wedding he changes his mind?”

“Why are you doing this to me? Why am I letting you get inside my head?”

“I assure you I am not trying to make you doubt your future husband, I am trying to help you secure him,” Seokjin said, pulling out a rather fancy dress, it was a little more revealing than what you had been wearing around Namjoon’s mother, you were unsure why you had packed the dress in the first place. “Now put on this outfit and go to him, you need to impress him. Be like a beer, pitcher perfect” 

“Haha.” Your laugh was dry, but you had to hand it to him, he had a quick wit and you liked that a lot, “I don’t need to impress him, I am his fiance and we are getting married.”

“Listen I will distract her and if the situation calls for it, sabotage her plans of stealing your fiance, the last thing I need right now is to be cursed back into a box thank you very much.” He threw the dress at your face pushing you into the bathroom. You turned to give him an offended look and he leaned down so his face was level with yours a condescending smile. “For butter or worse, I want to toast the lovely bride and groom, I need you both happy then you can all leave me alone. ”

~

Seokjin’s plans weren’t working. The dress made Namjoon send you back to the country club to get changed as he thought it was a little too indecent for golf. To make matters worse, when Seokjin tried to interfere and push Bom into the lake, Namjoon jumped in after her. As if things couldn’t get worse, Namjoon gave her his jacket and escorted her back while you dragged your feet back to your room. 

It was at this point you fell into Seokjin’s ideas, the two of you trying to conjure up situations where you looked superior to Bom and stole the spotlight. Seokjin critiqued your outfits and told you how to act charming and attract Namjoon’s attention. 

“So should I wear my hair up or down?” You asked him, curiously whilst standing in front of the mirror, tonight was the night before the big day and you were feeling downhearted. Namjoon was spending the majority of his time joking and talking with Bom and all your attempts only made them grow closer.

“You look beautiful either way, when your hair is up it shows off your slim jaw and long neck but down makes you look more feminine and beautiful.” Seokjin’s voice traveled through the bathroom door, but you could hear the truth in the words he spoke. There was no hesitation, he replied as if you had asked him about the weather.

“Oh,” Your cheeks looked so red, in the mirror, you had never seen yourself flushed before. It was kind of a romantic look, you hoped tomorrow you could look just as beautiful walking down the aisle. “No one has ever really said that to me before.”

“What about the Kim?”

“Namjoon doesn’t really talk about looks, which I appreciate he says he prefers personality over appearances,” You opened the door and stepped out, he stood up from the couch slowly, his jaw slack.

“You are very pretty,” For some reason, the confidence in his voice died away and he sounded so shaken and breathless. He offered his hand, which you gratefully took, “We should get you done to the party, you are getting married in the morning.”

“Why are you more excited than I am?”

“I love weddings, I find them so... Engaging” He looked at you with a serious expression pausing for effect and you slapped his arm with a grown

“I hate you and your puns.” struggling to control your features, you couldn’t admit he was funny.

~

The party was just beginning and the music was soft, Seokjin politely pulled you onto the dance floor and began leading you around. “I will try to distract Bom tonight, focus on having fun, okay?”

“Okay,” You smiled, gripping his broad shoulder, you tried to let all your worries disappear and it helped that Seokjin spun you around until you were dizzy and then demanded that you spin him too. In fits of giggles, you were interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

“Do you mind if I cut in?” Namjoon asked eyeing Seokjin.

“Of course, she is all yours”

Namjoon took your waist and began leading you albeit clumsily through a slow dance, “I feel like I haven’t seen you all week.”

“It has been hard to see you when you were hanging out with your friend but I understand, you haven’t seen each other in a long time and we have been together for a really long time.” You admitted trying to settle the uncertainties in your mind.

“Yeah, I feel like we just get each other and sometimes we lose track of the time.” He whispered.

You both heard Bom and Seokjin laughing together, they looked happy but you felt sick, Namjoon didn’t ease your insecurities and the one person you had been confiding in was also laughing with the other girl.

“I know he said he was a Kim but I have no idea who that guy is?”

“Your mum invited him, she said he is a distant relative,” deciding not to say his name in hopes Namjoon guessed he was the Seokjin from the legend.

“Ah must be very distant.”

You two were talking and you felt some form of reassurance that Namjoon still loved you and wanted to marry you. It was silly how worried you had gotten because his best friend had crashed the wedding.

Crash!

Turning you saw Seokjin looking horrified as Bom was in anaphylactic shock, racing over you watched as your fiance saved her and you dragged Seokjin away. “What was that, that wasn’t part of the plan.”

“I didn’t mean to, we were talking and I offered her what I thought was a chicken sandwich. It was incorrectly labeled and I didn’t know it was crab until she hit the floor.”

“She was supposed to be removed from the wedding, I didn’t want her to be killed”

“Look, either way, this works out, maybe this is a better plan. She will be in the hospital while you are getting married. This plan is better.”

“Plan?” A voice said behind Seokjin and he stepped aside revealing a confused and hurt Namjoon. 

“I didn’t ask or want or plan for something like this to happen, I just wanted to spend some time with you before the wedding cause I hadn’t seen you all week.” You attempted some form of explanation when Namjoon raised his hand effectively silencing you.

“I wanted the same thing and I am disappointed you resorted to these jealous and petty tricks that almost cost someone their life. I am going to the hospital, and I will see you tomorrow at the altar.” Namjoon turned, briskly walking away, chasing him with tears rolling down your cheeks. You begged him not to go. “I am disappointed that you were doubting me this whole time, it’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

~

The rest of the night you spent getting drunk in your hotel room passing out after crying yourself to sleep, you woke the next day with a headache. The hairstylist and the makeup artists were polite and didn’t mention the puffiness of your eyes and did their absolute best to make you look like a picture-perfect bride.

You looked in the mirror feeling alone, you hadn’t seen Namjoon or Seokjin since last night and you were unsure if you could face Namjoon but you were longing for Seokjin. He knew exactly what to say to cheer you up. He knew exactly how to make your problems disappear. If he was here you knew you could get through this day.

There was a knock and Seokjin smiled at the door, “You look truly beautiful, a blushing bride indeed, can I escort you down to the hall?”

“Of course,” You breathed, taking his hand. He led you downstairs and to the doors of the hall. You stopped and hugged him, his broad shoulders keeping you grounded and you took a few deep breaths.

“Hey no matter what happens, I am here okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He smiled softly. You thought for a moment he was going to kiss you and at that moment you wished he would, it was like something had taken over you. 

“I am so nervous, I think I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Well, you better go now, or forever hold your pees." The softest laugh seemed to shake as he stepped back letting his hands fall to his sides.

The music started playing and Seokjin walked away out of sight and the doors opened. Clutching the bouquet tightly you began walking down the aisle, your eyes met Namjoon’s and he gave you a smile that told you everything was forgiven. 

Needless to say, the tears started flowing, you were supposed to be happy but instead it felt like you were being married off to a stranger, someone who loved who you pretended to be not who you were. Namjoon liked the you that took care of him diligently and bought him his favorite things and was that really you.

You reached the altar and turned to face him and as he took your hands you noticed Jin slip into the back row of the hall.

~

“I knew you were the one when you took care of me, in other relationships I was expected to buy gifts, to provide, and yet with you I was the one being cared for and provided for. You cleaned up my messes when I was clumsy and you always made my favorite foods, you're so independent and wonderful and I can’t wait to make you my wife.”

“That’s, That’s not me,” you interrupted me, “I liked winning you a prize at the arcade but then you sang my praises and I became the one buying you gifts, which made me happy because you were happy but you didn’t return that love, you know you have never called me beautiful.”

“You push for me to be independent which I love but would it kill you to show me affection. I know we are all about equality and letting me get the bill but how is that equal if you have never offered to cook clean or pay for dinner. I haven’t been your partner in any of this, definitely not your girlfriend. I have been your mother.” 

“Speaking of your mother, your mother gave me an ornate box which you explained held the Seokjin Curse so thanks for trying to have me stolen away before the wedding. She invited your best friend from school because she wants Bom to be your wife, someone who knows the culture and background”

“And honestly it hurt this whole week trying to get your attention and you always turned to her, what happened last night was unfortunate and I am glad Bom has recovered so quickly, my friend told me the chicken and the crab sandwiches had been mislabeled. But the most important part is I saw you Namjoon. You were so loving this week, but not with me, with Bom.”

Taking off your viel you put it on Bom and lead her up to the altar and join their hands. “I am sorry, I am sorry that you never got to see the real me, I am sorry I played along with the image of me you created in your mind. I want to be friends but I cannot marry you Namjoon.”

He was crying, “I think you are right,” He hugged you kissing your cheek, “I loved you a lot and I am sorry I never told you how beautiful you were, I wish I could have allowed you to be yourself.”

“I have to go.” You whispered before walking out of the hall awkwardly with your head down. Namjoon escorted you out and everyone followed you to the dining room where the DJ and Namjoon’s close friend got on the mic.

“Let’s not waste a party.” You gave him a thumbs up and headed upstairs and changed quickly into the dress Seokjin had picked out for you earlier that week. It was a little revealing but you didn’t care, it’s not like you had anyone to impress anymore.

It was three drinks in and sixteen songs that the cake was brought out, the cake topper removed and you grinned as the song ‘Not Today’ filled the room. You were dancing wildly and Namjoon and Bom were having a blast.

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean for you to feel like I stole Namjoon, I was honestly really excited for you too,” she admitted and you grinned.

“He has known you since you two were little and I realized when I met you that his ideal type was you and he was projecting that image onto me, it’s better off this way.” A hand wrapped around your wrist and spun you until you landed against a strong broad chest.

“I liked the whole wedding, but it was the reception that really took the cake.” Seokjin grinned leaving you in hysterics.

[weasleyslag]

me and your girlfriend (fred weasley x f! reader)

summary: You're tired of waiting around for Fred to get his act together while he parades other girls around you, so you try to move on. Fred is unreasonably upset by this and tries his darndest to scare your new boyfriend off.

wc: 3063

warning(s): 18+ (not smut, but several mentions of sex), jealously, lowkey toxic relationship (don’t worry, it mostly gets resolved in the end)

a/n: this is my first HP fic I’ve written since I was like 8 years old so I am so sorry if you stumble upon this. Also, I noticed that most of the writing perspective is third person using y/n but the last fandom I wrote for, almost everyone wrote in second person, so I’m in the habit now. I’ll try to change that in the future.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30625835

“George, Georgie!!!” You called as you ran into the Gryffindor boys’ bedroom.

“Yeah?” George responded, looking up from his trunk of clothes.

“You will never guess what happened earlier!”

“Moody’s coffee had a hair growth potion in it. That was me.” He told you smugly.

You rolled your eyes. “Not that. That wasn’t nearly your best prank. You’ve been slacking, Weasley.” You slapped your friend on the back.

“Fred’s been distracted. He’s been with a new girl named… hmm what was it… Natalie? Natalia? It’s hard to keep track.” George explained, not trying too hard to disguise his dismay in his brother for slacking when it came to pranks.

“I can’t believe there’s another one. He just met someone else last week. And now there’s her too…” Your words trailed off. You really didn’t want to sound jealous but it was hard not to. George knew your feelings for Fred, Fred knew, Hell, Natalie (or Natalia) probably knew. It wasn’t really a secret.

George, wanting to relieve your discomfort, tried changing the subject. “So what was it that I can’t believe?”

“Lloyd Baker asked me out! He picked me flowers and everything.”

George let out a whistle. “Heard he’s a catch within the Ravenclaw house. He suits you. Kind and smart and-“

“And not Fred.” You finished your friend’s sentence for him.

“That’s not what I was going to say but yeah. I know you care about him but he’s being an ass to you. I think it’s good for you to explore your options. Don’t tell him I said that, though. Don’t fancy getting my ass beat.” George patted you on the shoulder.

You nodded. “I just hope I can get over Fred so this relationship can be healthy. Lloyd is great but I’m not even sure if I like him. I don’t really have eyes for anyone but Fred. You know that.”

“Fake it until you make it.” George shrugged.

George may not have had a problem with you being semi-fake in your new relationship but you sure did. Lloyd was a nice guy and you didn’t want to hurt him in an attempt to get over Fred. But you’d already agreed to go out so you supposed you’d take it as you went.

The next week went by like a fairytale. Lloyd walked you to every class, brought you sweets when you were craving them, and listened attentively to every word you said. You were starting to think that this was actually going to work out.

Spending all this time with your new boyfriend meant that you weren’t seeing your friends very often. You weren’t planning on that becoming commonplace, but you thought it wasn’t that weird to spend most of your time with your boyfriend considering this was all so new. You still saw your friends at least a couple of times a day, talking to Lee, Angelina, or George in passing. You saw very little of Fred, which was a little odd. The two times you saw him over the course of the week, however, he winked when he caught your eye before quickly scurrying off. You were convinced that Fred was trying to make this as hard on you as possible.

It was the weekend and you had decided it was time for your friends to officially meet your boyfriend. You weren’t really worried about what Lee, Angelina, Alicia, or George would think. The tall, kind faced boy was a perfect match for you, at least on paper. You were a little scared to think what Fred might do, though. Although to your understanding, he was bringing Nadine (you had been wrong about her name this whole time) to this Hogsmeade's meetup so he didn’t have any right to step out of line when he met Lloyd.

You squeezed Lloyd’s hand before walking into The Three Broomsticks.

“You okay?” You asked him.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He looked at you quizzically.

Oh, ok. He wasn’t nervous at all. So you were the only one that’s heartbeat was out of control. You weren’t the one that should be nervous, but for some reason you still were. Well, you knew the reason. Your stupid bastard best friend Fred Weasley.

You two stepped through the doors of the establishment. “I need to go to the bathroom real quick before we get started. You’ll be alright, yeah?” You looked up at your boyfriend, searching for any sign of unease.

“Yeah. I’ll just look around and when you come back you can introduce me to your friends.” He flashed you a dazzling smile and you skipped off to the bathroom. Little did you know, that was a huge mistake.

Fred had not taken his eyes off of you since you had walked in. Everyone else at the table felt uncomfortable, knowing from Fred’s scowl that he was about to make a scene. Nadine tried desperately to try to get her date’s attention, but he just waved her off.

“In a minute, love.” He faltered at the term of endearment. It felt forced.

He didn’t even know why he had invited Nadine to The Three Broomsticks. He had been seeing red ever since George had first informed him that you were seeing Lloyd. The Gryffindor boys would have been deaf to not hear the shouting match that occurred in the boys’ bedroom the night that he had been told. Fred was mad that George encouraged you to date Lloyd and George was mad that Fred had been such a dick to you lately, parading girls around like you two didn’t have a “thing”. He guessed that he had invited Nadine along today in an attempt to one up you and make you jealous but he knew that wouldn’t work anymore. You were beyond that point. He would just have to have a word with Lloyd to let him know exactly where Fred stood.

Fred walked over to Lloyd. When Lloyd noticed him, he gave him a warm smile, the likes of which Fred did not reciprocate.

“Fred Weasley. Can’t believe we’ve never met. I mean you must be real important to my bug, but I can’t say I’ve ever even heard her talk about you.” Fred told the boy coldly.

Lloyd shifted back and forth uncomfortably “Your what?”

“My bug. A term of endearment. You wouldn’t understand.”

“It’s cool that you and her are so close, I guess.” Lloyd didn’t know what else to say.

Fred chuckled at Lloyd’s visible uncomfortableness, not saying anything else for a moment before getting a wickedly awful yet brilliant (in his mind) idea. An idea to make sure Lloyd got the message that you were meant to be Fred’s, not some heartthrob Ravenclaw prat’s.

“Say Lloyd, did you know that my dad works for the Ministry? He works in proximity to Muggle culture. So I know all about Muggles.”

“Okay…” Lloyd responded, unsure of where Fred was going with this.

“Wanna know my favorite Muggle song at the moment?”

Lloyd nodded, desperate to ease the tension.

“It’s called Slumber Party by some girl named Ashnikko. My favorite lyrics are,” Fred accentuated what he said next, not keeping a melodious tune but rather just speaking as if he was informing Lloyd of something, “Me and your girlfriend playin' dress up at my house. I gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch.” He gave a sickly smile when he finished what he was saying.

It didn’t take a genius to understand what Fred was getting at. Lloyd immediately understood. Why the Hell would you start dating him when you were so clearly involved with Fred?!? Lloyd didn’t know quite what to say.

“I- what?”

“Thought Ravenclaw’s were supposed to be smart,” Fred snorted. “One word from me and she’ll be leaving you in the dust. Trust me, mate.” Fred’s eyes grew huge as he heard you exiting the restroom and he ran over to where he had been sitting before and put his arm around Nadine like nothing had happened. Everyone at the table had heard the discussion and looked at Fred in shock, besides George who glared at him with disgust.

“Okay I’m back!” You grabbed Lloyd’s arm and were surprised when he pulled away from you a bit.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him.

“Nothing.” Lloyd lied straight through his teeth.

“Okay…” You replied, uneasy. Nevertheless, you guided him over to the table where your friends were seated.

“Lloyd these are my friends. Angelina, my best girl friend. The Gryffindor team captain and the best Chaser I’ve ever met.” Angelina beamed at the words. “Lee, he’s annoying but he’s hopelessly in love with me so he gets to stay.” Lee choked on his drink before flicking you off. “Alicia, best giver of advice in the universe.” Alicia gave a small smile and a wave at Lloyd. “This is Nadine, I don’t know her very well but she’s a very sweet girl.” Nadine nodded and thanked you for your kind words. “And my best friends since first year, Fred and George.”

“The very best!” Fred beamed and you smiled at him. You were glad he was taking this so well. Maybe it was for the best that you both moved on, not that you were too sure if he had ever properly fancied you in the first place.

“I wish you could meet Oliver but he’s long gone now. We’re still super tight, though.”

“Yep, she’s super tight… with Oliver” Fred stared directly at Lloyd, who was looking at him, mortified.

The crude joke, however, went straight over your head and you just smiled at Fred. You couldn’t help the butterflies you felt in your stomach when you looked at him but you still tried to push them aside. You were blissfully unaware of the air of discomfort around the table. Fred and you practically ignored the others for two hours while you talked about anything and everything under the sun.

“I think it’s time for us to go.” Lloyd suddenly announced, pulling you two out of a Quidditch discussion.

“Aww really? Already?” You pouted at Lloyd but he just looked at you stonefaced. You had no idea what you were thinking but it couldn’t be good.

“Don’t worry, we can continue this discussion tonight, bug!” Fred told you, winking. You winked back at him playfully, not even noticing that Lloyd had let go of your hand entirely and Nadine had removed Fred’s arm from her shoulders.

“Ok, see you in the common room then!”

“The common room. Sure.” Fred said sarcastically. You found yourself confused, not understanding what he meant. But the words had hit exactly who they were meant for.

Lloyd practically dragged you outside and began walking swiftly back towards Hogwarts. You kept asking him what was wrong but he wouldn’t answer you. He speed walked all the way back to the castle, with you trying your best to keep up with him. Once you reached the gardens, he finally let everything he had been feeling go.

“Why are you going out with me when you’re so obviously with Fred?” he huffed.

“I’m not. Fred’s with Nadine.” You told him, very puzzled. But deep down, you still felt caught. Maybe he had caught on that you had feelings for Fred, even though those feelings were unreciprocated, or at least if there were feelings on Fred’s part, he wasn’t taking it very seriously.

“Yeah, right. That’s not what Fred said.”

“What are you talking about? Fred didn’t say anything to you.”

“Yes he did. While you were in the bathroom. He basically said that you two had a wild sex life and if he asked you to, you’d immediately drop me. And and-“ Lloyd ran out of things to say but he continued huffing and puffing.

“I have never slept with Fred.” You scoffed, ignoring the last part of Lloyd’s sentiment because you knew it was true.

“So he’s never eaten you out? Because he said that. Or at least strongly indicated it. And his comment about you being tight...” Lloyd’s eyes pleaded for you to tell the truth.

“No! I’ve never done that with anyone, promise. I haven’t done anything with him besides kiss him.” You were telling the truth, but Lloyd seemed dismayed that you had even kissed the boy before.

“Why’d you kiss him? Doesn’t seem like something that people who are just friends do.”

“I don’t know. I was just bummed out that I had never kissed anyone before. It wasn’t a big deal. And that was forever ago.”

Lloyd seemed slightly put at ease by that sentiment.

“So you haven’t kissed him in a really long time, then? And he’s just being an ass for no reason?”

“Being an ass for no reason? Yes. And I’ll talk to him about it. He’s totally crossed a line. I can’t just not be friends with him but he can’t say shit like that. But uh, the years ago thing, that was just the first time we kissed. Uhhh it’s been more than once.” You faltered, looking down at your shoes.

“So when was the last time?” Lloyd demanded.

“When did you ask me out?”

“Last Friday.”

“Errr that Thursday night then. But I haven’t done it since. I would never cheat.” You said honestly.

“Seriously? Look, you’re a nice girl and all but you clearly have an unresolved relationship with your friend and it’s just not healthy for me or you,” And so it went. You knew by his words that he was breaking up with you. You knew he was right but you were still royally pissed at Fred for ruining everything. “I could tell you’re in love with him just by the way you spoke to him today. And he-well he certainly feels something for you.”

“A possessive bugger, he is.” You agreed, trying to remain as lighthearted as you could while you fought back tears. You should just face it, you were never going to get over Fred Weasley.

“I’m sorry. I really am. But this is all too much of a mess for me. I’m sure you understand. I umm,,, I wish the best for you.” Lloyd said awkwardly before disappearing into the castle. And just like that, your first proper (albeit short) relationship had ended.

You ran to the Gryffindor girls’ bedroom to find Angelina, tears streaming down your face (the tears not so much because of being broke up with but because of the fact that apparently Fred thought it was appropriate to dictate your dating life while he could screw the whole school). Of course, Angelina wasn’t there. She was probably still at Hogsmeade. You needed to talk to somebody. You could probably confide in Hermione if you really needed to but she was in a fight with Ron and you didn’t want to add any more bad energy to her life at the moment. And Ginny, well you were afraid she might slaughter Fred.

Hoping that George had happened to walk back before the others, you called into the Gryffindor boys’ room.

“George? Are you in there?” You sniffled.

“Come in, love.” Your heart sank. It was Fred, not George.

“I don’t want to speak to you right now.” You told him coldly, walking into the room anyway.

“So you heard about my little stunt then?” He chuckled before looking over at your tear stained face. “No, bug, come here.” He grabbed you into a hug and you immediately started crying harder and pushing against him. He was stronger than you and wasn’t letting you go, however.

“I hate you, I really do. I know you’re going to say I don’t mean that but I do.” You cried, hiccupping at the end.

“But you don’t mean it. I’m sorry.” He kissed your forehead.

“Don’t do that, damn it!” You rubbed your hand over your forehead in an attempt to undo the action. “Why did you say all that to Lloyd today?”

“I was jealous.” He admitted.

“And you don’t think I’m jealous of Nadine?” You asked angrily. What was with Fred and his double standards?

“Don’t worry about that. I broke it off with her. She wasn’t too happy with me, anyway. I shouldn’t have even brought her today. I was just trying to one up you. But it just hurt everyone involved.”

“You breaking up with her doesn’t make everything better. It definitely doesn’t mean we’re going to go back to the way we were before.” You tried to break away from him again and this time you were successful.

“I don’t want things to be the way they were before.” Fred said quietly. You weren’t even sure you heard him right.

“What?” You asked, feeling a jab at your heart. You had just said that it wasn’t going to be like that anymore but hearing that he didn’t even want you anymore hurt profusely.

“I want it to be more than that. I know it’s gonna take a while to get there. I’ve really shown my ass.” He hung his head low.

“And not in a good way.” You giggled.

“See, that’s my girl!” He smiled.

“Don’t think that gets you out of hot water, Weasley.”

“‘Course not. I’ve been a proper idiot. But I’ll make it up to you over time.” Maybe against your better judgment, you let him kiss you. “I was scared for some reason.” He continued.

“Scared?”

“Yeah. Felt suffocated. I don’t want to end up just like my parents. Meeting someone so young and never experiencing anything else and getting a boring old job and doing that for the rest of my life. But I was focused on the wrong stuff. I can make my life different in so many different ways than going through a fuckboy phase. I really care about you, you know? And I want to be with you.”

“We’ll figure this out. Besides, I hate seeing you be so heavy with stuff. Where’s the silly boy I love?”

“You love?” Fred cocked an eyebrow and smiled wide.

“Oh come on, it’s just a phrase.”

“I think you’re psychologically trying to tell yourself that you love me.” He squeezed you and kissed your cheek. “Can’t wait to be with you good and proper.”

“One rule: don’t tell everyone about our sex life. We don’t even have one yet and you’re already telling people about it.”

“Noted.”

[youreacowgirllikeme]

Blind Date

 

Note: just an idea I had, hope you like it. some soft fluffiness, but also smut bc I’m still h word for Jake, especially after how he looked tonight on tv.

Pairing: Jake Tapper x reader

 Warnings: smut, NSFW

 

(sorry for eventual typos, I wrote this in a bit of a frenzy)

enjoy

 

“You look horrible. “Abby stated matter-of-factly as she sat down in the restaurant chair across from you.

 “I missed you too, great to see you, thanks. “you responded, not even bothering to argue with her.

Abby was your best friend since college, if she said you looked horrible it was either a joke or a fact. Considering the way she was looking at you, probably the latter.

“Hard week at work?”

 You let out a tired huff.

“You have no idea. We got this new client who booked us for a nation-wide tv ad, and they’re so incredibly demanding. I’ve been working overtime for three weeks straight, it’s a miracle they didn’t call me in today.”

Your monthly Saturday brunch with Abby was sacred, work be damned.

Your friend was giving you a worried look across the table. “Well, I’m glad they didn’t, you deserve a day off.”

 “Enough of my sad life, how is it going over at Fake News?” you joked.

 “Amazing actually. You won’t believe it, but I’ve heard through the grapevine that they’re thinking about offering me John’s Sunday spot on Inside Politics. Can you imagine, my own hour, as an actual anchor. It’s nothing official yet, but I’m so excited.”

 “Oh my god, Abby, that’s awesome. I’m so proud of you. We should celebrate.” you exclaimed, beckoning a waiter to order two glasses of champagne.

 Abby gave you a warm smile.
“Thank you, babe. But let me be honest, I’m worried about you. You look exhausted, even your voice sounds tired. When was the last time you did something actually relaxing?”

 “I’ve watched a movie, like, a week ago. And I do yoga, at least sometimes.” You tried to argue, not entirely sure if you wanted to convince Abby or yourself.

 A smirk settled over your friend’s face, and she looked at you like she just had the most brilliant idea ever. You did not like that look at all, it usually meant trouble.

 “Well todays your lucky day, because I know just what you need to de-stress a bit.”

 You just raised an eyebrow at her. 
“Care to elaborate, genius?”

 “You, my friend, need to get laid.”

You snorted. “Fun times, Abbs, you almost got me,”


“I’m serious, Y/N, when was the last time you had sex?”

“Okay, it’s been a while, but I’m fine. I don’t need a man to interfere with the little free time I have. And it’s not like the streets are full of men chasing me. I don’t have time to date, and, like I said, I’m totally fine with the way things are at the moment.” You tried your very best not to sound defensive. 

The expression on Abby’s face told you everything you needed to know. She didn’t buy a single word coming out of your mouth.
“Y/N, trust me when I tell you, blowing off a little steam would do wonders for your stress level. And maybe you’d even meet someone nice. And, lucky for you, I know just the guy. He’s someone I work with, and I think you’d get along perfectly.”

 “You’re not actually suggesting setting me up on a blind date.” You couldn’t believe your friend. The last thing you needed was an evening full of awkward small talk with some boring, sleek CNN guy.

 “Come on, Y/N, take a leap of faith. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

+++

 (One week later)

 “I can’t believe I actually agreed.” You murmured to yourself as you rummaged through your closet, looking for an outfit to wear on that damned date Abby bullied you into.

You thought about the peaceful evening you could have had, curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine, maybe getting some work done.

But it was too late to back down now.

 “Let’s just get this over with” you told yourself, applying some lipstick as if it was war paint. “Let’s hope that the guy is at least good-looking.”

 The restaurant Abby sent you to was nice enough, a small and intimate place, perfect for a date. You couldn’t wait to have your first glass of wine, because you could feel your nervousness increasing with each passing minute.

You entered the restaurant, looking for the third table on the window side that Abby had described to you…and directly turned around, practically fleeing through the door again as soon as you set eyes on the man sitting there.

 Back outside, you took your phone out of your bag and furiously dialed Abby’s number. She picked up right away, but you were shouting at her before she could even say a word.

“You better tell me that you did not set me up with Jake fucking Tapper.”

Was she out of her mind? This was the Jake Tapper, the face of CNN, hell, the face of the media in this country. What the fuck were you supposed to talk to him about.

But your friend just chuckled at you through the phone.
“When you saw him on TV some months ago, you said he was your type. Plus, he’s intelligent, funny, and single. Perfect for you. And now stop making a fool out of yourself and go in there. You got this, girl. Love you, bye.”
And with that, she hung up.

 You took a deep breath and tried to calm your nerves. You could not just leave now, and stand up Mr. Breaking News himself. So you pocketed your phone again, squared your shoulders and went back into the restaurant.

You made your way over to the table, coming to a stop in front of it. The man sitting there looked up to you and smiled. And wow, what a beautiful smile it was, sincere, warm and inviting, taking over his entire face.

“Hi.” You said, trying to sound confident.

“I’m Y/N, Abby’s friend.”

 

“It’s so nice to meet you, I’m Jake. I’m working with Abby, but she probably already told you that much.”

“She did, but I’ll be honest, I know you, of course. Big fan of your show.”

God, why did you just say that. He was probably going to think you were some kind of crazy fangirl now.

 But he just continued to smile his open, friendly smile at you.
“Always happy to hear that.” He chuckled, pointing to the opposite chair. “Do you want to sit down?”

 “Yes, of course, sorry.” You said, feeling silly because you totally forgot that you were still standing. You quickly sat down and tried your best to appear calm and collected, even if your insides were in turmoil.

 “Would you care for some wine? They have a pretty impressive list, I could pick one for us if you don’t mind.” Jake asked.

 “Wine sounds fantastic. I love it, but I’m not really an expert, so go ahead.”

 Jake took some reading glasses out of the pocket of his suit jacket and put them on his nose. 
While he was studying the wine list, you took your time to study him instead. He appeared to be in his late forties, so there was an age difference of probably 15 to 20 years. You didn’t mind that at all, older men had always been more your type.

He had a really handsome face, kind eyes that looked even better when he had those glasses on, and you loved his salt-and-pepper hair. He was wearing a light blue dress shirt with a dark grey suit jacket. You caught your mind wandering to how he might look underneath his clothes and gave yourself a mental slap on the wrist. This was your first date, no need to get ahead of yourself.

“Everything alright over there?”

 Shit, he had caught you staring.

 “Yes, sorry, I zoned off for a moment. I had a stressful week at work.”

“Oh, yes, Abby told me you’re working in advertising. Any interesting projects at the moment?”

You went on and chatted about work a bit. You were fascinated by what he was doing, and taken aback by the confident, yet humble way he was talking about it. This was absolutely not the behavior you were expecting from the leading anchorman of the nations most renowned network. He wasn’t arrogant or self-centered at all and you were definitely charmed.

The wine Jake ordered arrived with your starters, and soon after you had your first few sips you felt some of the initial nervousness fading away.

Soon, the conversation was flowing freely, and you discovered that Abby was right, you really did get along perfectly. Jake was incredibly funny in a dry and witty way and his sarcastic remarks made you laugh more than once. You also discovered your shared interest in graphic novels and argued a while about weather DC or Marvel was the superior comic universe.

Jake showed you one of his own cartoons on his phone, and with each moment you found yourself more drawn to the man in front of you.
At some point his hand started to lightly brush against yours on the table, and each touch sent a warm feeling through your chest.

You talked some more over dessert, had some more wine and overall, a really good time.

The alcohol gave you a pleasant, fuzzy feeling, and the desire to just get up and crawl on Jakes lap grew with each look he gave you.

 “Excuse me, Ma’am, Sir, were closing up now.” A passing waiter told you and put the check on the table.

 “Let me take care of that, please.” Jake said, taking out his wallet. You just thanked him and enjoyed the view of him putting on his glasses again to read the check.

 He really was a perfect gentleman, you thought to yourself, as he got up to hold your coat and then the door for you on your way out.


“I really had a wonderful evening.” you said softly, as the both of you were standing on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Jake shot you another one of his brilliant smiles, and you could feel your heart beating faster.
“Me too.” He replied. “I really enjoyed spending time with you, and I’d like to see you again.”

Now your heart was almost jumping out of your chest, and you could feel your own smile taking over your face.
“I’d love that.”

 Jake took one step closer, now standing so close you could almost feel the warmth radiating off his body. One of his hands came up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, his thumb slowly stroking over your jaw. His touch sent goosebumps all over your skin, and you slightly parted your lips, looking him directly in the eyes. They were warm, and dark, and you felt like you could get lost in them. And then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your mouth.

It felt incredible, a kind of warmth that was totally unrelated to the wine spreading through your body, your skin prickling where his hand was still on your face.

You put your hands on his arms and kissed him back, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips against yours. He still tasted slightly like red wine, and you wanted nothing more than to explore the rest of his body with your mouth just as thoroughly.

 First date, you reminded yourself, and broke free from the kiss before your lust-clouded brain could make you do something you might regret later. You glanced up at Jake, who looked at you with an unreadable expression. Then, after what felt like forever, he finally spoke.

“Could I maybe have your number?”

 

“Of course.” You said, with maybe a bit much enthusiasm, but Jake didn’t seem to mind. You quickly typed your number into his phone, and just as you were finished, the cab you had called earlier was arriving.

Jake held the door open for you, and shot you one last, beautiful smile. “Good night, Y/N, get home safe.”

“Thank you for the wonderful evening, Jake. Good night.”

 You closed the door and the taxi drove off. You already missed his face as soon as he was out of sight, and you turned around to watch his receding figure through the rear window of the taxi.

Great, you were already down bad after one date. The man really got to you, and you desperately hoped that you would hear from him soon.

 As soon as you were home, you really felt the effects of the wine, so you quickly went to bed to get some sleep. Just before you were nodding off, you sent Abby a quick message.

 

You were right, he is perfect. THANKS xxxx

 

When Abby answered five minutes later, you were already asleep.

 Told you so ;) xxxx

+++

 When you woke up the next morning, there was a new message from an unknown number on your phone. Your heart made a flip in your chest, and you opened it as fast as you could.

 

Hi, this is Jake. It’s probably way too soon to text you, but I just wanted to let you know, again, what a great time I had yesterday. If you’d be up to it, I’d really like to see you again soon. Let me know if that would be alright with you. And have a nice Saturday :)

 

He had already texted you. That meant he didn’t think that you were crazy, or awkward, and that he wasn’t just acting nice, he genuinely wanted to see you again. You were filled with a giddy sort of happiness, and decided to answer him right away, there was no need to play any games here. Leap of faith, just like Abby said.

 

Good Morning Jake, I really enjoyed yesterday as well. I’d love to spend some more time together; would tomorrow evening be too spontaneous? I could make dinner, to return the favor since you paid yesterday ;) my place at eight?

 

As soon as you hit the send button you started getting anxious again. What if tomorrow was too soon? What if he thought you were being too eager?

“Stop it, Y/N!” you said out loud to interrupt your mental spiral. You wouldn’t make a fool out of yourself for this man, even if he was handsome, and intelligent, and funny. No way.

 But as you were standing in the kitchen five minutes later and heard your phone chiming from the other room, you were there in the matter of seconds to read the new message.

 

Tomorrow sounds perfect, just text me the address. I’ll bring the wine. xx Jake

 

You clutched your phone to your chest, the biggest, goofy smile on your face.

 You spent the remaining day extensively cleaning your flat, stressing out, going grocery shopping and stressing out some more. You face-timed Abby and bullied her into helping you pick out an outfit, since she technically was the one who got you into this mess in the first place.

Jake was occupying your mind whatever you did, and when you finally got into your bed that night, all you could think about was how his lips had felt against yours. Those thoughts sent a hot, burning feeling down between your legs and when you finally touched your pussy, you were already so wet and aroused that it only took you minutes until you reached your peak, Jakes name falling from your lips.

+++

To say you were a nervous wreck the next day would be an understatement. When you woke up, you decided to watch some TV to get yourself a bit of distraction. An ad was currently playing, and so you decided to check your mails first.

 

“Good Morning from Washington, where the State of our Union is in turmoil over the latest…”

 

Your head snapped up at the sound of the familiar voice coming from your TV, the voice that occupied your mind ever since your blind date on Friday. You had totally forgotten that Sunday morning meant Jake Tapper time on CNN, because usually you were either asleep or at work at 9 am. But now you took your time to really appreciate the man on your TV.

He looked way more serious than the Jake you got to know, no smile, just a stern expression and a dark suit and tie. Which didn’t mean that he wasn’t looking totally hot, and his intelligent and sharp remarks did nothing to calm your fluttering heart or the heat in your lower abdomen. You definitely wanted him, bad.


This is getting ridiculous, you thought to yourself, and turned the TV off to take a very long shower.

Afterwards, you spent the whole day pacing around your flat and annoying Abby with numerous text messages and another two face time calls. She assured you multiple times that everything would be just fine and by the time it was 7:45 p.m. the food was in the oven and you sat on your couch, waiting for the doorbell to ring.

When it finally did, you all but ran to the door only to stop and force yourself to take a couple of calming breaths before opening it. Jake stood outside, a bottle of red wine in his hand. He looked amazing with his white dress shirt and dark grey slacks, but again it was his smile that got your attention, he looked just as happy to see you as you were feeling.

Out of a sudden impulse, you surged forward and threw your arms around the man, hugging him and burying your head in his chest. He seemed surprised, but still put his free arm around you, embracing you.

“Hi.” You whispered, suddenly shy, but as you looked up to meet Jakes eyes you could see nothing but warmth in them. “Hi.” He replied, pressing a kiss to your hair. “It’s good to see you.”

 You slowly let go of him so he could actually enter your apartment. He followed you inside and you fetched some glasses for the wine. You talked about everything and anything over dinner, family, football, the book Jake was working on. You listened closely, and so did he as you told him about your passion for art and music. He even asked you to put some of your favorite records on as you moved over to the couch after dinner.

You were still talking animatedly but having Jake in closer physical proximity made it increasingly hard to focus on what he was saying.

Instead, your eyes and mind wandered to his hands. Without thinking, you reached out and put one of your hands into his, He stopped speaking, and looked at you. You could see the kind look in his eyes being replaced by something darker, more passionate.

 He spoke again, voice lower this time. “I’ve been thinking about you and our kiss without a break since yesterday. And just as long I’ve wanted to kiss you again, touch you again.”

He reached out, cupped your jaw with one of his hands and slowly ran his thumb over your bottom lip. It took every willpower you had not to suck his thumb into your mouth. This man had you hot and aching for him with just a single touch and a couple of words.

“Is that something you want me to do, Y/L?” his voice was only a low rumble now.

 

“Oh my god yes. Yes please.” You whispered, not really trusting your own voice to come out steady enough. 
The hand on your face slid to the back of your head and you uttered a surprised gasp as Jake just grabbed a fist of your hair and pulled you close, until your faces were only inches apart.

“You are beautiful.” He said, looking you deep in the eyes.

And then he kissed you again. And as soon as his mouth connected with yours, you realized just how much you had missed the feeling of his lips, the warmth of his body. But that was where the resemblance to the kiss you shared last night ended. Because this one was more.

More passion, more lust. Jake softly bit your bottom lip and used your surprised gasp as an opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. The kiss deepened and you could feel small sparks of arousal all over your body with every touch of tongue and every time he lightly tugged on the hair in the nape of your neck.

Your hands found their way around Jakes shoulders, roaming up and down his back. You were really glad he was not wearing his full State Of The Union Outfit, even if it had looked extremely hot, because as soon as you could feel the solid muscle through his thin dress shirt, you knew that those clothes had to come off at some point.

You lightly tugged on the hem of his shirt to pull it out of his pants and spread your hands over the warm skin underneath. Jake broke the kiss as soon as he could feel what you did, just to tilt back your head and kiss your exposed neck.

You couldn’t stifle a moan as he lightly sucked on your pulse point.

The feeling of his mouth on your skin made heat coil between your legs, and you tried to shift even closer to him, until you were almost sitting on his lap.

Jake continued to kiss your neck, while his other hand crept under your shirt to palm your breast through your bra. He lightly squeezed it and you moaned again, you nails raking softly over his back, making him groan against your skin.

“You like that?” he asked, and pinched one of your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra, and you could feel your panties getting soaked with arousal.

You decided that it was time to get rid of some clothing and started to quickly unbutton Jakes dress shirt, revealing more and more skin with each button undone. As soon as you were finished, he pulled the shirt of his shoulders and the view of his body made your mouth water. You ran your hands over his muscled chest, and you could see the way his eyes darkened again.

“I can’t wait to touch you everywhere.” He said in a husky voice and pulled your shirt over your head in a swift motion, and instantly his lips were on yours again, his hands roaming over your back, unclasping your bra. When your nipples came in contact with the skin of his chest, you couldn’t contain yourself anymore.

“Jake, please. Touch me, kiss me, anything. I need to feel you.” You pleaded, your voice slightly breathless.

 

“Take the rest of your clothes off, now.” Jake said, his commanding tone sending another surge of wetness between your legs.

 You got up from the sofa and stood in front of Jake. Slowly, you opened the zipper of your jeans and pulled them down, leaving you only in your black lace panties.

Jake was watching you, his intense stare burning on your skin.

“Everything. Off.” He said, never breaking eye contact.

Having the undivided attention of this man was so hot, you almost got lightheaded.

You slowly dragged your underwear down your legs, and as you were looking up again, you saw that Jake was palming the bulge that had begun to form in his pants. You wanted to touch him so bad.

“You are gorgeous. Amazing. Beautiful. Stunning.” Jake said, taking in the sight of your naked body. His voice was strained, this was clearly affecting him.

A light flush was beginning to form on your skin, you weren’t sure if it was because of arousal or embarrassment, but you definitely knew that you needed Jake to get his hands on your body, now.

You made your way over to him again and leaned down to open the fly of his trousers. His briefs were already tented by his erection, and you palmed him through his underwear, making him groan.

“Those need to come off.” You whispered, smiling at Jake, who just nodded and lifted his pelvis so you could pull down his trousers along with his underwear.

Finally, he was naked in front of you. He grabbed you by your waist and pulled you down on the sofa, lying on top of you. The feeling of his warm skin against yours was thrilling, you tried to get your hands on every part of his body you could reach, stroking his back, pulling his hair. Finally, you wrapped your hand around the base of his hard cock, giving it some light strokes.

“You feel so good, Y/N, I’ve been thinking about doing this since I first laid my eyes on you. I’ve been in a state since we kissed, and now” he whispered against your neck „I can’t wait to finally have that sweet pussy of yours.”

You couldn’t believe the words coming out of Jakes mouth, hearing him say filthy things like that was turning you on more than you could’ve ever imagined. Obviously, your thoughts were written all over your face.

“You like it when I talk like that, don’t you, sweetheart.” He said, pinching one of your nipples as he did.

“I…Oh shit, yes, yes I do. Please.” You whimpered, almost going you crazy with the need to finally feel him. 

He had mercy on you, reaching out between your legs. When he touched your pussy for the first time, you felt like the pent-up tension could make you faint any moment.
“God, you’re so wet, Y/N.” He thrust two of his long fingers into you without warning, and you almost screamed.
“And so tight.”

“I need you, please Jake, fuck me.” You were begging now, way beyond caring about any sort of decorum as his digits touched that sweet spot inside of you again and again.

 He withdrew his fingers and shifted on top of you before he put his hands on your tights, spreading your legs. You couldn’t even begin to complain about the loss of his fingers, he was already lining up his cock with your entrance, and pushed in, slowly, filling you inch by inch until he bottomed out with a deep groan. His length stretched you in the most delicious way, and you cried out as he was starting to thrust in and out of you, leaving you almost no time to adjust to his size.

You couldn’t talk coherently anymore, you were just chanting his name over and over as he was fucking you into the sofa. Your nails clawed into his back as he was leaning over you, his hair falling into his face. Just as you thought you couldn’t feel any more pleasure, he grabbed one of your legs and probed it onto his shoulder, the new angle making you see stars with every move of his hips.

“You feel incredible, so tight and warm around me, you are amazing.” He looked down on you, taking in your face, squinted with pleasure, his name falling from your lips over and over again.

He reached between your legs and started rubbing your clit, never slowing down his relentless, hard thrusts. The combined stimulation was almost too much for you and your orgasm was approaching fast.

“Don’t stop, please, just don’t stop.” You cried out, the pleasure running through your body like a wildfire.

“Look at me when you come, I want to see you. Look at me!” Jake growled, breathing hard as he sped up even more.

You hit your peak with a cry, sparks dancing over your skin as your walls clenched around Jakes cock. Your eyes were fixed on his, and he looked at you like you were the only person on the entire planet.

Seeing you come undone beneath him, Jake only lasted for another few deep thrusts before he came, shouting your name and spilling his hot release inside of you.

 He laid on top of you afterwards, his face on your shoulder, breathing deeply. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, and he turned his head to look at you.

“Hi” you said.

“Hi” he replied, your favorite smile spreading across his face again.

 “I liked that very much.” You said, pressing another kiss to his lips. He chuckled and propped himself up onto his arms with a small sight, rolling off you. Luckily, your sofa was large enough so you could comfortably lie next to each other.

“Me too, that was fantastic.” He replied and pulled you closer, putting his arm around you. You buried your face into his chest, soaking up the heat of his body and his wonderful smell.

 “Maybe you should come over more often.” You suggested, sounding a bit nervous again. You didn’t want to appear clingy. But this man had just rocked your world, and you couldn’t just act like nothing happened.

“I’ll come over whenever you want me to, sweetheart. Consider me at your beck and call.”

 “Stay the night?” you asked in a hopeful voice. You had work in the morning, but you just couldn’t imagine letting him go anywhere now.

He just nodded, smiled, and kissed you again. That soft, tingly feeling in your chest increased even more, and you just happily snuggled up to him.

 Later, as Jake was already asleep next to you, you took up your phone and sent a quick text message to Abby.

Next brunch is my treat! I owe you xxxx

[orangeoctopi7]

I’m looking at all the Journal entries Dipper made about McGucket before Ford came back for Fic Reasons and I’m noticing something interesting.

There are two full entries on McGucket, one dealing with how he built the Gobblewonker, and one written after they take down the Society of the Blind Eye, plus a brief mention of him building the Gideon bot in between. It’s very interesting to look at these entries from the perspective of Stanford going back and reading these entries for the first time.

This got long so it’s all under the cut.

The Gobblewonker��

“The cast on his arm had a strange hum coming from inside. He’s a genius when it comes to robotics. Could he have a robot forearm? Is he slowly turning himself into a robot???”

I could see Ford’s reaction being something along the lines of “I wouldn’t put it past him”

“Totally wall-eyed yet he always seems to be staring at me. Very uncomfortable.”

I’m not sure what causes wall-eyed-ness but I think this might make Ford concerned for his friend’s health.

“Never wears shoes. He calls them ‘foot prisons.’”

I would not be surprised if Fiddleford wasn’t fond of shoes even before the sanity slippage. Some people just prefer to be barefoot and considering he grew up poor on a hog farm, I wouldn’t be surprised if any shoes at all were considered Sunday Best when McGucket was growing up. So I don’t think this tidbit would be surprising to Ford.

“I swear that every time I look at him, the gold tooth has moved to a different part of his mouth.”

Again, I think this would make Ford concerned about McGucket’s health more than anything else.

“Not sure what the bandage on his beard is all about. But when I reach for it, he starts to growl like a small dog.”

This is the first really clear indication of Fiddleford’s sanity slippage in Dipper’s entries, but when taken in conjunction with the next entry, I wonder if Ford maybe thought his friend was putting on an act.

“There’s definitely something suspicious about this dude, but I can’t tell if he knows more than he lets on or LESS than he lets on. I wonder if the Author ever had to deal with strange locals like this guy.”

Considering Dipper’s speculation that McGucket knows more than he lets on, I feel like that’s a line of thought Ford would latch onto. It would be easier to believe his friend was just pretending to be crazy, probably to protect the secrets he knew, than to accept that no, your friend didn’t just get better once you left, he continued down the path he’d already started on and got much much worse.

The Gideon-Bot

“McGucket built it. I guess he’ll invent stuff for anyone who will hang out with him. Still can’t tell if he’s a good guy or a bad guy.”

Obviously, I don’t think Ford would be surprised by McGucket building a giant mech. What I do find interesting is Dipper’s comment of McGucket inventing things specifically to get people to hang out with him. Now we don’t know a lot about McGucket’s child/teenaged years. He may have been an unpopular outcast because of his intelligence, but we don’t know. But we DO know that Ford was an unpopular outcast, and there are codes in the Journal where he specifically says that he’s building the portal, not just to bring about an incredible scientific discovery, but also to get people to like him. So I think Ford would really relate to his poor friend in this instance.

(PS I was totally in the same boat as Dipper on not knowing if McGucket was a good guy or a bad guy before SotBE)

A Break in the Case

“We uncovered and defeated the Society of the Blind Eye and we owe our success to Old Man McGucket. Remember the guy I thought was just a lunatic hillbilly back during our Gobblewonker adventure? Turns out that “crazy” ol man has a heart of gold and saved our minds!

But more important, McGucket used to be a brilliant scientist- specifically, the one who worked with the Author! The ‘F’ the Author referred to was Fiddleford McGucket, and he could be the key to unravelling the big mysteries in Gravity Falls!!!

IF he can get his mind and memories back. There are encouraging signs- although he still does seem to like talking to racoons. Mabel and I have hope. And we were glad to have made a new friend.”

I imagine Ford would have mixed feelings about this one. On the one hand, seeing his friend called ‘lunatic’ and ‘crazy’ would be difficult, not to mention Dipper saying McGucket WAS a brilliant scientist, PAST TENSE. It kinda drives home how much McGucket had lost his mind. But on the other hand, it’s clear that Fiddleford is still a kind-hearted and caring individual who saved the kids’ lives, and they have hope that he is recovering what he’d lost, and they became friends.

Anyway, I thought that this was interesting and maybe some of you out there will too.

(PS Dipper never mentions that McGucket lives in the dump. NOT ONCE! I imagine that would be quite the surprise once it comes up in conversation. “Now that I’ve bought that big fancy house, I’m gonna have to move all my stuff outta the dump!” “I’m sorry out of the WHERE?”)

[stars-are-just-ghosts]

A World Full of Bullies, and the Four Kids Who Never Stop Fighting Them

This is a story about my four children and the small town they live in, a story about bullies and the people who stand up to them. Let me start by introducing the four of them. We’ll refer to them as the Sibling Mafia (this will be important later.) Each of them is as unique as the different parts of a harmony. They grew up closer than close. Best friends, siblings, confidants. They have their moments of disagreement, sibling rivalry, chaos. But there doesn’t go a day without them seeking out one another’s opinions and comfort. Theirs is a bond that can’t be replicated, or completely understood. The 17 year old, we’ll call her ‘Red,’ is the only girl in the bunch. She’s an artistic bisexual disaster (her words, not mine,) she’s riddled with equal parts anxiety and hope, and she holds her own like you wouldn’t believe (she’s surrounded by guys in her work, and out does them at every turn.) She’s five-foot-zero inches of kickass and love. And there isn’t a single person who can hold her back when she wants something. She’s had a rough several years, found herself beaten down to her most fractured level. But she fought back with every ounce of strength available to her and clawed her way back to the surface. She’s thriving. She’s scared. She’s dreaming of her future. (Her brothers have so often looked up to her, I think Red often feels like she’s surrounded by puppy dogs who would willingly battle-rush the world if it ever failed her.)  The 18 year old boy, we’ll call him ‘Blue,’ has high functioning autism and social communications disorder. The world is full of lines he’s steadily trying to figure out how to cross without changing the flow he relies on. From working in the adult world, to trying to hold on to the childhood he isn’t quite ready to let go of, Blue still manages to find the space and time to be the big brother he’s always been. It’s the most important thing to him. More important than his love for just about anything else. That has always been his choice. There isn’t a single one of his siblings that he doesn’t love ferociously. And though his emotions are sometimes tumultuous, he always finds a way to make what he really feels known to those closest to him. 

The 14 year old, we’ll call him ‘Purple,’ is a trans (female to male), bisexual, magnetic ray of absolute fricken sunshine. It’s impossible not to want to know more about him, to laugh with him, to share in his infectious well of joy. There isn’t a mean bone in his body, not a single inch of hatred in his DNA. From the moment he was born, he had a smile on his face. The world was his to make happy. And even though these last few years have been one hell of a confusing ride for him, he’s never stopped looking at the world around him like it’s something he wants to change for the better. The  almost-11 year old, we’ll call him ‘Green,’ is a pint sized sarcastic ball of genius who doesn’t see just how important he is to the people around him. His comedy is endless, a shield to protect himself and others from the nastier things life tries to throw. He’s smarter than the average 11 year old, but refuses to jump ahead a grade or two because he ‘just wants to enjoy school.’ And though he likes to pretend that he can handle everything that comes his way, there are times when it’s easy to see how young he truly is. It’s those moments that his siblings are his anchor to an uncertain universe, the chains that keep his gravity from failing him. And they are the epitome of his best friends, his comfort, his home. Red, Blue, Purple and Green have a lot in common. From Red and Purple loving art and music, to Green and Blue loving video games, to all four loving DnD night. They love to adventure together, to share inside jokes, to create beautiful mayhem on a daily basis. They love to learn together, to forget to do their chores together, to ask the world to ‘listen, dammit’ -together.  They also have trauma in common. Losses of those they loved, pains they’ve all had to feel, things a parent can’t protect them from... And there is so goddamn much I wish I could have protected them from. When Blue was in middle school, there was a boy, we’ll call him ‘Misunderstood.’ To him, Blue’s autism made him a prime target in the bullying arena. Like some other kids, Misunderstood would say mean things, call Blue names, make him momentarily feel like he would never fit into the world he so desperately wanted to be a part of. But what Misunderstood didn’t know was that Blue had a better world around him already, one that would come to save him when it counted most.  One day in gym class, Blue was playing basketball with his friends. He tossed the basketball, and it didn’t quite go where Blue was expecting. It sailed at Misunderstood and hit him in the head. It didn’t matter to Misunderstood that it was an accident. All that mattered was this could be a perfect excuse for retaliation. He closed the distance on Blue and punched him in the head. He knocked him out. But in that same moment, Blue’s friends and sister ran to the rescue. They rallied around him, chased Misunderstood away. Protected their friend and brother, because they knew that was exactly what Blue would have done for them. Because Blue is the sort of person to give a stranger the shirt off his back if they really needed it. Something of which Misunderstood couldn’t see. Imagine my terror when I got a phone call from the police. It was a sobering sight to see police cars and an ambulance when I squealed into the school parking lot. There is no way to explain the feelings of helplessness and fury I was inundated with. You know, logically, that your children will break bones and get stitches and have broken hearts and nightmares and a myriad of other pains that are simply a part of life. And you also know, unfortunately, that bullies exist. You never think that anything like this can happen, until it does, however. That’s not naivete. It’s not denial. It’s the hope that the world might not just be as awful as you think it is. Knowing that world proved that hope wrong, even for a moment, makes you want to wrap your children up in your arms and never let go. But that’s not how life works. There isn’t an excuse for what Misunderstood did. But there are things to understand. I can raise my children to be good, caring, kind people. But I have no say in what happens in other children’s lives. Was Misunderstood being cared for? Did he have parents who gave a shit about him? Or was he neglected? Was he lacking the resources to explain and feel his emotions properly? Was his life hell, and he just needed someone to see? I asked myself those things, trying to understand. I even asked the other adults in charge of the situation. But because Misunderstood was a minor, I had no legal right to know. It turned out, in the end, that Misunderstood was expelled. His parents moved him to a different school district. And Blue was left with the question he always seemed to ask when another child chose him to target: ‘Why me, Mom?’

There is no why. Because, like I said, nothing excuses what happened. What I wanted him to focus on was what happened inside the event. And what happened was loyalty, love, friendship and the coming together of individuals to stand up to a bully. Now, at 18 years old and nearly six feet, Blue still has those friends. And he has the lesson they taught him, not the one that Misunderstood wanted to teach. And he doesn’t ask ‘Why me, Mom?’ anymore. He asks, ‘Why not me?’ as he now steps in when someone needs protection. Most recently, Purple, my 14 year old, has had to face bullying of his own. Purple didn’t come out till a year and a half ago, and the daily progress to being the person he wants to be has been beautiful and brilliant. But there is another boy, who we’ll call ‘Unwarranted,’ who has pulled out all the stops to make Purple feel panic, anxiety, terror.  Back when covid was nearly past its first upsweep and all the schools were still closed down, Purple was desperately missing his friends. It was agreed, after a fair deal of hashing out the precautions, that he could see one of his best friends at the park. Purple hadn’t come out yet at that point, still struggling with what it would mean for all the relationships in his life. But the idea of seeing someone who he literally grew up with after being so long apart was too good for him to pass up. They met at the local park, a couple of other friends catching up with them there, and they hung out.  It was supposed to be an innocent, happy time for a kid who only ever tried to make people happy. It ended in police involvement and kids being physically hurt. Unwarranted had shown up with two much older kids. But the part he played was entirely his choice as all three terrorized the younger kids, with words and with physical threats that ended with large rocks being thrown. One child was hit in the head. My child was hit in the side. Both of them ended up hurt. All while they were running to Purple’s friend’s house for safety.  Unfortunately, there was so little we could do. It didn’t happen on school grounds, so the schools couldn’t be involved. The police couldn’t tell me much more other than they knew who the three bullies were, having been in trouble with the police before. And I couldn’t know anything else because they were minors. To protect my child, I couldn’t let him go to the park alone anymore. I drove him everywhere. I tried to help him forget. And over time, he did. Until the beginning of this school year. Purple started his Freshman year looking for new beginnings. He’d already firmly cemented himself in coming out, was totally authentic in who he is and who he wants to be. His friends are still his friends, completely accepting and loving him. And he tackled his first week of school with intensity and excitement.  In the back of my mind, however, I had never forgotten what happened at the park. The mother in me held on to it, because I couldn’t take the risk that something worse could happen. I hadn’t been able to protect or avoid what happened to Blue. But maybe I could protect Purple. I got in contact with the new principal at the high school, explaining the situation and that I did not want Purple to be in any classes with Unwarranted. He vehemently agreed. Purple doesn’t have a single class with him. It’s worked out well. Or it did, until they passed each other in the hall. In that brief moment, when classes were changing and kids were hurrying through the halls, Unwarranted took it upon himself to pick right up where he left off. Except now, Unwarranted isn’t the same size as Purple. He’s over six feet, athletic, and knows how intimidated Purple already was by him. The result was Purple incoherent with fear. There’s a reason I have referred to all four kids together as the Sibling Mafia. Because if you hurt one of them, you hurt all of them. And there’s hell to pay. Red and Blue, who are both Seniors at the high school, heard about the incident almost immediately. (It’s a small town, so small school, and word travels fast.) They didn’t go to their next classes. They took Purple to the office instead, and demanded something be done. They wanted answers and a resolution, and they wanted it fast. I received a phone call about it all from the guidance counselor who was just gushing over the bond they all shared, and the way they’d rallied around Purple. But it wasn’t just Red and Blue who rallied. It was their friends.  You see, if you’re friends with one of them, you’re friends with all of them. And in a place like this, it grows exponentially. So many people love Purple, and Red, and Blue, and Green. And it shows. The principal and counselor and school resource officer worked on a plan to keep Purple and Unwarranted from ever crossing paths. It was good. It was a start. Unfortunately, it did nothing for when the kids were walking home from school. Because Unwarranted decided to make prodding and inappropriate comments while walking behind him. Only, this time Blue and his best friend, we’ll call him ‘Orange,’ and two of Purple’s friends were there to do something about it. Because Unwarranted had a lot to say when he knew Purple was too scared to retaliate. (Red was with a friend, but was furious when she found out.) But being faced with the reality of a whole group who were more than capable of protecting Purple made him back right off. No fists were thrown. No one got hurt. And everyone made it home safely. 

And Purple came to me, despite his fear and wariness, to ask... ‘What if something is wrong with Unwarranted? What if something happened at home to make him act this way? Maybe we can help...’ My response was to breathe. To stare at this kid of mine, because the compassion in those words made my heart hurt. Here was this boy who was obviously being terrorized by someone else, and all he could think about was making sure that bully was okay? I told Purple, ‘You have no idea how amazing your heart is.’ I told him, ‘I don’t know what might be going on with Unwarranted. And it’s wonderful of you to want to help. But you also have the right to be safe, whether you’re in school or walking on the streets. You have the right to have a happy learning experience without fear of being cornered in the hallways. For now, as much as I know you want to figure it all out, my priority is making sure that you are safe.’ He nodded, hugged me, and went about his day.

I read somewhere once that bullies are predators. They will go after what appears to them to be the weakest prey. Trying to stop a bully by teaching a child to stand up to them is like teaching the weakest gazelle to be stronger. The predator will not stop going after the weakest prey, it will only stop going after that target. But what if that target was never weak to begin with? Purple may not have the physical attributes of a football player or a wrestler. But he’s got something even better. He’s a wolf with a pack who would be lesser without his knowledge and love. And there’s nothing that pack wouldn’t do to protect him, just like there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make their lives better. The Sibling Mafia extends beyond blood, it seems.  Now you might be wondering, where’s the almost-11 year old Green in all this? Green came into the first three’s lives when Purple was a little under three years old. At that point, they were already bonded and closer than I could have ever imagined. But the second Green’s little wiggly self came home, the change was immediate and overwhelming. Not in a bad way, not even remotely. You see, that bond transformed. It grew, it solidified, it settled into a whole new identity. It somehow made them far more whole than any of us realized they could be. Because all three older kids had lessons to teach and love to give, and with Green they could do all that together. Without any encouragement from me, because kids don’t need to be raising other kids, Green grew up being the literal center of their world. And they all loved each other more because of it. Green is just a little guy. He’s small and skinny and scrappy, full of wit and genius that often leaves the rest of us wondering where he got it from. He looks at his siblings like he wants to give them the universe. And he goes through life like he might just give it a reason to wise up to the possibility of goodness if it tries hard enough. Nothing holds him down for long. Events, losses, physical injury. He bounces back so fast that the rest of us get whiplash. 

But what happens when an event causes loss and physical injury at the same time?

Just this past week, the kids were walking home from school. Red has Senior release, which allows her to get out of school early most days. So it was just Blue, Purple and Green, walking with their friend Orange.  In the past, there have been bullies. Two of which I have mentioned. But some never made it to the ‘something we really have to worry about’ stage. One of these bullies, particular to Blue, decided it was time to graduate to that stage in a very dangerous way. We’ll call him, ‘Mistake.’ Because what he chose to do was a big mistake on his part. The kids had made it to just before the opening of our neighborhood. They were on the sidewalk. They’d been carefree, joking, laughing, talking, when a vehicle suddenly sped its way toward them on the road. The vehicle had a passenger and a driver: Mistake. And as Mistake accelerated, one of them threw a full bottle of Powerade out the window as hard as he could. We’re fairly certain he was aiming for Blue. 

It hit Green instead.  At that speed, with that much force, something as innocuous as a bottle of liquid can do real damage. It was only sheer luck that it hit Green in the leg. If it had hit him in the head, we’d all be sitting in a hospital room right now keeping vigil. That being said, Green is small. He’s skinny. The impact to his leg was enough to damage the muscles in his thigh. You can see the impact point, a literal imprint of the bottle on his skin. The bruising is very clear. The recovery will be slow. The first thing Green did was cling to Purple. Orange and Blue yelled after the car, but it had sped quickly away. The boys managed to get Green home right away. I had been working at my computer. And the next thing I knew, Green is in my arms, incoherent and in pain, crying so hard his whole body was shaking. Calling the police was an easy decision. Trying to hide my instant and unbridled rage was so much harder. The police are treating this as assault on a minor. The bottle was collected as evidence. Green was evaluated by physicians and will thankfully make a full physical recovery. But the emotional damage seems to be much worse. Green is not himself. He’s clingy, he’s worried, he’s having nightmares. He doesn’t want to walk home anymore, even knowing his brothers and Orange are there to protect him. His birthday is barely a week away, and he is trying so hard to be enthusiastic about it. But the bruise and pain in his leg keep offering reminders. The idea of leaving school grounds without one of his siblings or me makes him panic. And the light of innocence in his eyes is that much duller.

It was a senseless, useless act. One that’s rattled us all. 

Blue and Purple are blaming themselves, as though they should have been able to see it coming and protect Green. Red is angry that she didn’t just wait to walk with them, as though her being there would have stopped it altogether. Their grandparents, friends, teachers, counselors, and even random people I have never heard of are all up in arms. They want someone to pay. I think Green just wants to pretend it never happened at all. 

To be honest, I want Mistake to pay, too. Because it doesn’t matter who he was aiming at, this was clearly assault. Clearly intended to do harm. And I’m tired of feeling like I can’t protect my children.  When did the world become so cruel? When did parents stop teaching their children that kindness is not a weakness? When will I ever feel okay with sending my children out into such an unforgiving world? I know I’m angry. In fact, I’m enraged. But... I also still have hope. Green’s birthday is steadily approaching. The kids are doing everything they can think of to make him smile again, make him laugh, prove he’s loved and, most of all, safe. They’re using their hard earned money to get him gifts, to surprise him with a puppy they’re buying themselves, to give him his normalcy back. And I’m watching them hold on to each other through it all. Like they always have. Like, I hope, that they always will. The future is coming at them quickly. Red, Blue and Orange want to get an apartment together after high school. Purple and Green have decided they want to live together forever. And they’ve all decided that they have to make time, once a week or more, to be back under one roof.  We live in a small town, but they’re going to move on outside of it. Because the world outside of it is big, and they are well aware of that fact. They want to tackle it in their own way, individually and together. They want to see where this life takes them, no matter what tries to stop them. And they want to share that journey with each other, and with anyone who wants to be a part of it. I never could have predicted how close those four amazing kids would become, or how much they’ve already changed the world just by being who they are. They’re my hope, you see. In a world where anyone can be cruel, they choose to be kind. They choose to be the example by which everyone around them learns what kindness is. Misunderstood, Unwarranted, and Mistake are learning about kindness, too. Whether they realize it or not. Because in their misunderstood existence, in their unwarranted actions, in their irreversible mistakes, the kindness of the Sibling Mafia seems to be far more powerful.  This is a story about a world full of bullies and the four kids who never stop fighting them. One act of love, kindness, and hope at a time...

[meganlpie]

I’ll Be Your Friend

Anonymous asked: Ooooh Harry Potter! Okay, can I request a Fred Weasley x fem!reader? The reader is a Hufflepuff and muggleborn and really quiet and Pansy picks on her, but Fred cheers her up by getting her to help with a prank?

Here you are, lovely! I do not own Pansy or the Weasley twins. They belong to J.K.Rowling. 

Warnings: Mentions of bullying, use of the word Mudblood, Fluff and a little humor. Fred and George…that’s a warning in itself. 

Pairings: Fred Weasley x fem!Hufflepuff reader (can be read as platonic or slightly romantic).

Fred Weasley was well liked by most people at Hogwarts. He was charming and funny, a rule-breaker with a heart of gold. He even acted like an older brother to many of the younger students. Fred was the kind of guy nearly everyone was friends with. There were few exceptions, but that was because Fred couldn’t stand bullies. Ironically though, he’d have to thank a bully for meeting his newest friend.

         A ruckus caught Fred’s attention as he walked toward Snape’s currently empty classroom. With furrowed brows, Fred followed the noise. “Please leave me alone,” you were saying when Fred rounded the corner. “Why would I do that? You need to learn your place. You don’t belong at Hogwarts. A Mudblood. A Hufflepuff to boot.” Your back was against the wall as Pansy raised her wand. Fred had had enough.

         "Oi! Piss off!“ The Slytherins all jumped at the sound of his voice. Fred knew his face was red with fury. The younger Slytherins who had simply followed Pansy all took off. Pansy stared for moment before looking back at you. Her gaze darted between you and Fred for a minute before finally lowering her wand. "The Mudblood isn’t worth my time anyway. And neither are you, blood traitor.” Fred rolled his eyes as Pansy left.

         A sniffle made Fred look at you. “Alright there?” You started to nod, but as the tears began to roll down your face, you shook your head instead. “T-Thank you,” you stuttered out, making Fred smile a little. He shrugged. “Nothing to thank me for. What does she have against you anyway?”

         "You heard her. I don’t belong here. I’m a ‘Mudblood’.“ Your voice was barely above a whisper and you refused to meet his eyes. Fred reached over and gently cupped your chin in his fingers. "Hey, don’t talk about yourself like that. You are worth ten Pansy Parkinsons.” You looked at him for a moment, but didn’t say anything. Fred let go of your chin and smiled a bit.

         "You don’t even know me. How can you say that?“ Another shrug. "Because I’ve seen you around. You’re quiet and shy. You don’t talk much and you’re brilliant. And believe me, I’d rather associate myself with someone like you, Muggle born or not, than a pureblood like Parkinson or Malfoy.” You sniffled again. “Thanks, uh…sorry. I just realized I’m not sure which twin I’m talking to,” you said sheepishly, making Fred laugh.

         "That’s alright. Even our mum can’t tell us apart sometimes. I’m Fred.“ You greeted him before offering your own name. "Pleasure to meet you, Y/N. Now, I know something that will cheer you up and you won’t have to talk to anyone except me and my brother. Interested?” Fred could tell you were curious, even as you opened and closed your mouth repeatedly. “W-Would we get in trouble?” Fred pretended to think for a minute. “Possibly, but I doubt it. George and I never get caught unless we want to be. And you’ll be able to humiliate Parkinson.” Hufflepuffs were kind, everyone knew that, but they also weren’t going to continuously let someone walk all over them when pushed to the limit. “Alright.”

         You let Fred help you up, but he didn’t let go of your hand as he gently pulled you after him. He tried to ignore the pleasant feeling that he got holding your hand. Now was the time for pranks. Fred lead you to where his brother was waiting. “Hello, Freddie. And where did you find this lovely lady?” George asked with a charming grin.

         "This is Y/F/N. She ran into some trouble with Parkinson. I thought she could help us with our little excursion today, though I think we should change our target.“ George’s smile grew. "Saving the damsel in distress and letting her help with a prank? You’re a genius, Freddie.” You glared lightly at George.

         "I was not a damsel in distress. I’m just,“ you stopped with a soft sigh, "I’m just too shy to stand up to people like Parkinson. And even if I were a damsel in distress, I’m glad Fred was the knight in shining armor.” Fred couldn’t help the pride that welled up in his chest. Even George had to laugh. “Alright then. Not a damsel at all. Well, come on. We’ll need something different for Miss Parkinson.” Fred took your hand again and you followed after George.

         "You know I can follow without you holding my hand, right?“ Fred moved to let go, but your grip tightened. "It doesn’t mean I want to,” you whispered. Fred gave your hand a squeeze. “What do you think, Freddie?” George asked when you all stopped outside the Gryffindor common room. Fred pondered for a moment. “I think we should let Y/N decide. It’s her revenge after all.” Your brows came together in worry and confusion.

         "I don’t want to hurt, Parkinson. Not really. Just…humiliate her a bit.“ Fred and George nodded in unison before sharing a look. "Then we’ve got Puking Pastilles, Canary Creams, or Ton-Tongue Toffees. The last took us ages to get right.” Again, you looked confused as you asked what each item they were talking about did. You’d never heard of them, and for good reason. “These, love, are our own personal creations. We plan to open up a joke shop and sell our wares.” You smiled a little.

         "How will we get them to Parkinson?“ Again, the twins shrugged. "Leave that to us. You just sit back and enjoy your well-earned revenge,” Fred told you with a smile. You looked down at the ground, a little embarrassed, and Fred had to fight to keep from saying how adorable you looked out loud. It was already obvious to him that even though you had a compassionate heart, you also had a fiery temper. “You promise she won’t be hurt?” Fred nodded and squeezed your hand, that he had yet to let go of, again. “Alright. Then I think we should use-”

         The next morning, you were sitting at the Hufflepuff table for breakfast. Fred met your gaze from his own place at the Gryffindor table and winked. You rolled your eyes, but your lips turned up into a smile. The smile grew a bit when George reappeared at his twin’s elbow. “Done already, George?” George arched a brow. “'Course. Should I come back later? I’d hate to interrupt the goo-goo eyes going on between you and Y/N.”

         "Shut it. Y/N is my…our new friend.“ George hummed. "And how many of 'our’ new friends have you ever let help with a prank before?” Fred didn’t dignify that with a response. He simply took a sip of his drink and let his eyes finally leave you and travel to the Slytherin table. Pansy had just sat down and just in time for the mail.

         The sound of wings filled the air as owls swooped in, dropping assorted letters and packages on the tables. In the chaos, no one paid attention to the fact that your and the Weasley twins’ eyes were glued to Pansy. Her expression turned into one of confusion as she picked up the package an owl had dropped for her. She turned it over, examining it. After a moment, she clearly decided there was nothing to be suspicious of and she opened the package.

         If there was one thing few people knew, it was that Pansy loved her sweets. You had only discovered it when you noticed her sneaking bits of toffee into her mouth in the library one afternoon. So it came as no surprise to you when Pansy immediately shoved not one, but two pieces of the toffee in her mouth. It took less than three seconds for her to let out a muffled scream as her tongue began to swell.

         Heads turned toward the source of the noise cutting through the din. Pansy shot out of her seat, her face turning red from embarrassment. She darted from the Great Hall and a few other Slytherins followed after her. Fred met your eyes again and you smiled before mouthing, “Thank you,” to him. He gave you another charming wink, making you roll your eyes once more. He had a feeling you were going to be the twins’ best friend for a good long while.

(a/n: I hope this is what you were looking for!)

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[pulaasul]

The Reaper and The Master of Death

Harry Potter and Death watch some events unfold, starting with Tobirama Senju's creation of the Reanimation Jutsu.

[FFN] [Ao3]

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Harry looked amused as the personification of death sighed beside him as he and the personification watched a certain white-haired, blue-armored man successfully create a spell, jutsu as they were called in this world, that resurrected the dead, technically speaking.

The shinobi, as Harry learned they were called, slammed his hands on the ground and the three persons that were bound before him had dust, ash and dirt sticking to their bodies up until three unfamiliar figures replaced the prisoners.

"Reminds me of the inferi actually." Harry thought out loud.

"The inferi are called zombies in other worlds," Death huffed. "This one actually grabs the souls of the dead and forcibly puts them in another, after ejecting the soul of the host body," They continued. "It's rather accurate to compare them to the Black Lantern Corps minus the use of host bodies to call forth the souls of the dead."

"So how this works is that a DNA specific to that body is what's triggering an effect akin to the Resurrection Stone through their Chakra and puts the summoned souls into a living body, essentially creating a zombie that retains all their personality and knowledge that uses a living host to exist."

"In a sense." Death nodded.

"At the very least, he seemed not too keen on playing god as the thought of resurrecting the loved ones he lost in the clan wars hasn't crossed his mind." Harry offered. "I'm pretty sure he's just using the emotions and skills tied to the dead to his advantage."

Indeed, none of the unfamiliar figures resembled the white-haired man at all.

"Working with Weasley has strengthened your strategies, I see." Death commented. "You are right, even your very own Albus Dumbledore succumbed to the temptations of the Resurrection Stone and tried to call for the actual resurrection of his sister and parents."

"I'm pretty sure this type of strategy wouldn't cross Ron's mind," Harry offered. "The guy has a pretty good sense of morals despite what we experienced."

"My point still stands," Death shrugged. "He was a strategic genius even when you both were still eleven."

"Still can't believe there are versions of Professor Dumbledore that wanted to control everyone, who'd gaslight everyone around him just to keep everything in his control."

"You've seen for yourself how those Dumbledores are," Death offered. "I mean there are versions of you who sided with Riddle."

"I know," Harry sighed. "Still uncomfortable with those realities." He shook his head. "In any case, back to the man, Tobirama was it?"

"That's his name." Death nodded.

"I don't think we should worry about this spell or jutsu of his to be used to resurrect entire armies, as Voldemort did with his inferi, the jutsu is still limited to the caster's chakra."

--------

"Okay this, this I did not expect." Harry admitted.

A hooded, pale as white man had a lot of prisoners bound up before him as he slammed his hand to the ground, making the earth and dust gather around his captives and took the form of another person.

"I did not think possible that using the chakra around them can be used to fuel the jutsu." Death nodded. "This makes for good entertainment I suppose."

"Even that Orochimaru person wasn't playing god as soon as soon as he understood the jutsu," Harry pointed out. "Even though he has a lot of similarities to Voldemort regarding his animal of choice and his quest for immortality."

"I agree, and he had his hands sealed inside my stomach for some time alongside the souls of the Hashirama, Hiruzen, Minato and the creator of the jutsu, Tobirama."

"I've got to say, it was pretty ironic that the jutsu's creator was summoned by the very jutsu he created." Harry commented. "I still have a lot of questions regarding you eating their souls tho, I still remember being human and that looked like cannibalism to me."

"It's a visual metaphor." Death shrugged. "How I seal the souls is dependent on the cognition of the jutsu's creator, had the jutsu's creator created the jutsu with a gourd as a container in her mind, I would have appeared with a gourd in hand."

"So where are they, if not inside your stomach?"

"Limbo." Death answered. "Until anyone finds a way to free them from limbo, which in this world's case my stomach, they're staying there for good."

--------

"I feel sorry for the Uchihas." Harry offered as he observed the shinobi alliance fight against the hordes of dead shinobi. "They were wiped out, barring a few survivors, and they don't get to join this war."

"Well fate works in mysterious ways," Death shrugged. "It turns out there actually was a consequence to creating this jutsu."

"Don't tell me, the early demise of Tsunade Senju's fiancé and younger brother." Harry raised an eyebrow.

"That and a few others."

"No way! The Uchihas were collateral damage too?"

"Remember one of Tobirama's students?" Death asked. "The one that had bandages all over his body?"

"Danzo? What about him?"

"Well Danzo took Tobirama's paranoia and suspicions on the Uchihas to the very extreme that lead to the massacre of the clan, which tied everything in a neat ribbon."

"But what about Naruto, he's been wearing the cursed necklace since he won that bet against Tsunade."

"What do you think? You're a child of prophecy, the same as him."

"Huh, never thought of that." Harry hummed.

--------

"What great irony." Death commented.

Kabuto has just finished the hand seals necessary to dispel the reanimation jutsu.

"The Uchiha, the collateral for the creation of such jutsu was the one to stop it from running and return the souls of the dead, where they belong." Harry grinned. "It's the man who was forced to kill his entire clan too."

"I want you to meet him and give him a reward for such display." Death urged.

"Any reward?"

"Yes, but if he does go for an actual resurrection, limit it only to one or two." Death nodded.

---------

"Hello Itachi Uchiha." Harry greeted the confused Uchiha.

"W-who are you?" Itachi's eyes narrowed. "The Reanimation jutsu should've been undone."

"It was." Harry nodded. "Take a look around you, where do you think we are?"

"The Uchiha compound?" Itachi looked around. "Only silent and cleaner."

"The Uchiha compound you say?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Regardless, your effort to bring the souls back to where they belong was rather brilliant." He praised.

"It was in an effort to save the Hidden Leaf…" Itachi trailed off.

"Call me Harry."

"It was to save the Hidden Leaf Harry." Itachi continued.

"An altruistic reason." Harry nodded. "In any case, fancy playing a prank on everyone alive? Especially Madara?"

"Prank?"

"Don't you think it's rather curious that no Uchiha, apart from you, was summoned from the dead?"

"I didn't question the absence of the Uchiha in the front lines. "Had the Uchihas were present the Shinobi alliance would have been wiped out almost immediately or at the very least would prove difficult to be fought against."

"Are you so sure about that Itachi-kun?" Harry questioned. "I was under the impression that only a few of you were able to awaken the Mangekyou and train it's exclusive powers."

"No, I am aware that only a few of us have unlocked the Mangekyou and even fewer to fully harness its powers." Itachi shook his head. "Had Shisui been present in the battle, he'd have killed a battalion in one strike."

"Shisui of the Body Flicker." Harry nodded.

"With the benefits gotten as a summon of the Reanimation, he'd be unstoppable, he's fast enough that no one would be able to seal him, even moreso if Kabuto had sealed his personality and made use of his abilities."

"Shisui's presence would've put more casualties than they already are." Harry nodded. "In any case, back to my idea."

"What does pranking everyone mean for the people battling now would entail?"

"Apart from a short reprieve from all the battles, especially for the living? Imagine the look on everyone's face as soon as some of the Uchihas started showing up."

---------

Everyone has just lost the alliance's intelligence headquarters through the ten tail's attack.

Without a moment of reprieve Madara and Obito, by controlling the ten tails, resumed their assault on the shinobi alliance and bombarded with attacks with its appendages: tails, feet and hands.

It culminated with another tailed beast bomb that directly targeted the entire shinobi alliance, if not for the timely intervention of the reanimated fourth Hokage: Minato Namikaze.

As the previous Hokages arrived, they immobilized the ten tails which gave the shinobi alliance a turn to attack the huge beast.

The unprecedented happened however, the ten tailed beast created 'clones', for lack of better term, of various sizes and forms in an attempt to defend itself from the onslaught of attack form the alliance.

The alliance were able to stand their ground but none were able to approach the main body, where it lay restrained.

Suddenly, a lot of those 'clones' were suddenly slashed and bisected, some were even obliterated.

"You sure grew up Sasuke." A voice commented as he stood on top of Sasuke's summon.

"Shisui."

"Eeeeh! That's Shisui?!" Naruto exclaimed in disbelief.

"The Uchiha clan will officially join the Shinobi Alliance!"

The third Hokage and Sasuke immediately recognized the person who made the announcement, one Fugaku Uchiha.

"The Uchiha clan?" Tobirama questioned. "I thought they were extinct."

"Do not worry about that Lord Second." Shisui grinned as he appeared beside the second Hokage, slashing a clone that managed to get through the rushing shinobi. "We're all still dead, someone used the white Zetsus lying around as sacrifice and reanimated some members of the clan."

"Hiruzen, Minato." Fugaku acknowledged the presence of the Hokage he was familiar with.

"I apologize for Danzo's actions Fugaku, I was too weak to stop him."

"It's too late for apologies Hiruzen, I am however thankful that you let Itachi spare Sasuke."

"Of course."

"Shisui, accompany Sasuke and his companions to the ten tail's body the rest of us help clean these up."

"Yes Lord Fugaku!" Shisui and the other members of the Uchiha clan voiced their affirmation.

With the aid of the Uchiha clan, some that have access to the Mangekyou and Susanoo, they made quick work with the ten tail's clones that some were even able to assist Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura and Shisui obliterating all the obstacles the appeared on their way towards the ten tail's main body.

--------

"Apart from Madara, who's the other man beside him?" Fugaku asked the two Hokages he was with.

"You don't recognize him?" Minato questioned. "That's Obito."

"Obito? Shouldn't he have died during your mission at the Kannabi bridge?" Fugaku beheaded a ten-tails clone.

"From what I have gathered, he didn't." Hiruzen smashed another clone right under his bo staff.

"According to Kakashi, Madara was the one who saved him, his body was indeed crushed by the boulder that we thought had killed him." Minato slashed a ten tailed clone

"This is your fault Sarutobi! Namikaze!" One of the Uchihas with the third and fourth Hokage exclaimed.

"I will not deny my part on Obito's descent, but do not put all the blame on the third and me," Minato shook his head. "It was the Uchiha clan who thought he was a disgrace in the first place, did you not?" He huffed as he stabbed another clone in the eyes.

"From what the intelligence corps had been relaying since they were reanimated, Obito was also the one responsible for releasing the Kyuubi and ordered it to attack the village." Hiruzen slammed three ten tailed clones with his bo staff. "He was also the one who killed the entire clan, Itachi's hands were only soaked in your and your wife's blood."

"He's also responsible why both Kushina and I died." Minato offered. "Why don't we continue this conversation when were done with the war." He suggested as he shook his dead.

"No need," Fugaku shook his head. "What happened to the clan was a series of karmic events that started with the clan doing wrong with one of their own."

"He was such a sweet, optimistic and helpful boy," Minato lamented. "To see him turn out this way was what hurt the most."

--------

"Lee Focus!" Neji barked as he performed the Rotation and destroy all incoming enemies.

Neji landed beside Lee and performed a series of air palms and blew alot of the clones away from his general vicinity.

"Neji… Y-you're."

"Yes I am dead." Neji nodded. "However I was summoned alongside the Uchiha clan to help aid in this ongoing war."

"A-are there others with you?"

"Now's not the time for that." Neji shook his head. "We will battle one last time." He smiled at his teammate. "We will rendezvous with Tenten."

"Yosh!"

---------

"What's going on Shisui? The reanimation Jutsu should've been undone." Sasuke questioned.

"It was undone alright." Shisui jumped from an incoming attack. "We were reanimated right after it was undone." He fired a fireball at the enemies in front of the group.

"After it was undone?" Naruto questioned.

"Apparently, like with Orochimaru reanimating the previous Hokages, someone used the jutsu to summon members of the Uchiha clan and some others." Shisui shrugged.

---------

"Looks like your clansmen disagree with you Madara." Hashirama commented.

"It wouldn't be the first time that this happened." Madara scoffed.

----------

"The One Tailed Beast was once connected to me, I'll get them!" Gaara released a thick trail of chakra infused sand and grabbed hold of the One Tail's chakra.

"We finally found the weakness and that is the key. Leave the Eight Tailed Beast's chakra to me." Killer Bee rapped as he used the Eight Tail's tentacles and clung unto the Eight Tail's chakra.

A chakra tug of war between the ten tail's jinchuuriki against Naruto, Sasuke, Gaara and Killer Bee ensued. They managed to pull out the tailed beasts' chakra from inside Obito but they were at an impasse.

Obito was a strong shinobi in his own right and with the added bonus of being the ten tails's jinchuuriki, that power increased exponentially. He was able to cling unto the tailed beasts' chakra that reacted to Naruto and Sasuke's attack.

"Don't underestimate the ten tail's jinchuuriki!" Obito declared as he pulled the tailed beasts' chakra harder to his person.

The Susanoo armor sprouted a handed from the back and pulled on one of Kurama's armored tails.

"Just keep pulling Naruto!"

The members of Naruto's graduating class arrived and gave their assistance as they clasped on one of tails.

Soon after everyone from the shinobi alliance arrived and with the help of Minato's tailed beast form's chakra, everyone gave their assistance and pulled.

"That's great! Everyone on my mark!" Naruto declared. "Ready! Set!"

Everyone positioned themselves comfortably as they awaited Naruto's signal.

"Pull!"

Everyone from the shinobi alliance heeded Naruto's call and pulled on the chakra.

Naruto himself pulled with all his might.

"Don't underestimate everyone's power!" Naruto declared.

As much as Obito's will had wavered for a brief moment, he was still the most powerful being present, even with everyone trying to pull away the tailed beasts' chakra from him. He responded everyone's convictions and actions with his own and pulled some of the chakra back to him.

"Continue to pull Naruto!" A very familiar voice exclaimed. "Leave Obito to us!"

Kushina arrived with Mikoto and Jiraiya.

"Mom." Naruto and Sasuke muttered to themselves as they watched their respective mothers join the fray.

Another Susanoo armor manifested around the Uchiha matriarch as chains sprouted from Kushina's body and wrapped themselves around Obito's torso.

"I will be joining into the fray, I'll leave him to you ladies."

"Thanks for the lift Jiraiya." Kushina grinned.

"Kushina get in here." Mikoto scooped up her friend and placed Kushina beside her inside her Susanoo.

With Kushina and Mikoto pulling Obito and the shinobi alliance pulling the chakra with Naruto, the leaf's jinchuuriki was successful in liberating the other tailed beasts' chakra from the ten tailed beast, defeating Obito in the massive tug-of-war.

---------

The Sage of Six Paths and the all the previous Kages summoned Team 7 and all the other tailed beasts from Kaguya's dimension.

The reanimated people began catching up to team 7, particularly the Uchihas with Sasuke and Naruto's parents and godfather.

Shisui made one last action of ruffling his cousin's hair before joining Fugaku and Mikoto.

"I'm afraid we all must go." The sage of six paths voiced out as he shook his head.

The reanimated people nodded in understanding as they glowed and began to dissipate, their bodies disintegrating into earth and dust.

Naruto and Sasuke didn't waste time and bid farewell to their loved ones.

---------

"Why haven't we left the living plane?" Hashirama questioned.

"Some of you have yet to leave your earthly constructs." The Sage of six paths shook his head. "Also, as I am the father of Sasuke's and Naruto's first incarnations, of Indra and Asura, it is my duty as their father to watch this conflict I knew I have helped sow to its very end."

"Choosing Asura over Indra." The second Hokage crossed his ethereal arms.

"Go Naruto! Know that your mother's rooting for you! You know!" Kushina yelled.

"Go for it Sasuke! The entire Uchiha clan has got your back!" Mikoto responded her own cheer.

"Mikoto, is that how the wife of the Uchiha clan head should act?" Fugaku rebuked.

"Really?" Mikoto raised an eyebrow. "We're dead if you haven't already noticed Fugaku, I don't care about upholding the clan's values when the same values got all of us killed."

"I didn't realize Mikoto-san has quite a temper to her." Minato commented.

"Motherhood mellowed her out," Fugaku admitted. "She knew she didn't want her sons to inherit her infamous temper."

"I guess I should've known considering how good friends she and Kushina were." Minato chuckled.

"Birds of a feather indeed." Fugaku nodded.

---------

To Naruto's and Sasuke's surprise, and utter embarrassment, their loved ones have yet to return to the pure world and they just knew that everyone witnessed their battle.

"You did good Sasuke." Fugaku nodded.

"You were great Naruto!" Kushina praised. "My son is so powerful!"

"Just like we'd hope, right Kushina?" Minato asked his wife.

"As for the reason we're still here, I felt it prudent for everyone to say goodbye to their late loved ones instead of just a few of them having that chance," The sage of six paths voiced out.

The casualties of the fourth shinobi world war as well as the fallen loved ones of the living people, who just woke up from the infinite tsukuyomi-induced slumber, appeared and they talked with each other like Tsunade talking to her late fiancé and younger brother.

Team Gai talking to Neji.

Shikamaru and Ino talking to their respective fathers, and with Chouji, they conversed with Asuma.

"Wait!" Naruto exclaimed. "Konohamaru needs to know you're here old man!" He exclaimed as he disappeared in a yellow flash and appearing a moment later, carrying the third hokage's grandson.

"What gives boss?! I know I was bored in the village but you didn't have to drag me out of it out of nowhere!" Konohamaru whined.

Naruto shook his head and gestured to the third Hokage.

"Grandpa." Konohamaru's eyes widened. "Gramps!" The young Sarutobi tackled his grandfather and hugged him as tight as he could.

"You've grown Konohamaru." Hiruzen returned the hug. "I heard you had defended the leaf spectacularly." The late Hokage ruffled the young Sarutobi's hair affectionately.

"He has indeed sensei." Tsunade affirmed. "Saved his jounin sensei from being killed during one of Akatsuki's attacks."

"Keep up the good work Konohamaru," Hiruzen smiled at his grandson. "I'm proud of you."

"And so am I." Asuma interjected.

Asuma turned to his team. "Look after him will you?"

"We will Asuma-sensei." Shikamaru nodded.

Soon enough everyone bid farewell to their loved ones: Naruto with his parents and godfather; Sasuke with his clan; Ino, Shikamaru and Chouji with their fathers and teacher; Tsunade with her grandfather, fiancé and younger brother; Konohamaru with his grandfather and uncle.

As soon as everyone disappeared, Shisui, whose body have yet to disintegrate, collapsed.

"What's happening?!"

Tsunade and Sakura were quick to rush to the unconscious Uchiha.

-----------

"Hello Shisui Uchiha." Harry greeted the boy.

"Hello" Shisui greeted back but his hands were on his short sword. "Is this the pure world?"

"You have unique circumstances Shisui," Harry informed the Uchiha. "Someone made the choice to resurrect you as a reward for a job well done."

"Resurrect me?" Shisui raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry but shouldn't that be impossible?"

"Not entirely in your world," Harry shrugged. "Chiyo of the Hidden Sand was able to resurrect their Kazekage, Gaara, after he was killed hours prior, Nagato used the Rinnegan's ability to resurrect the hidden leaf's casualties during his attack on the village, Madara forcefully used the same ability with the Rinnegan in Obito's possession to resurrect himself," He explained. "All of them at the cost of the user's life."

Would you really sacrifice your life for me, whoever you are?"

"Call me Harry," Harry smiled. "And what makes you think I'm a living person?"

"I mean we are talking aren't we?"

"Where exactly do you think we are?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, I was about to ask you the same question." Shisui fired back.

"Humor me." Harry urged.

Shisui looked around his surroundings.

"This… this is the top of the Hokage's Tower." Shisui declared. "That's the Hokage Mountain." He pointed at mountain with the faces of the Hokage carved on it.

"Looks like Mount Rushmore." Harry muttered to himself.

"But it's silent and cleaner." Shisui observed.

"The Hokage Tower below the Hokage Mountain huh?" Harry hummed. "It make sense." He nodded.

"So this is the boy Itachi Uchiha wanted to resurrect." The sage of six paths observed. "Rather curious that he didn't choose his parents."

"I don't think it's quite that interesting Hagoromo." Harry shook his head. "One of Itachi's few regrets was Shisui Uchiha's death."

"Also one of the very few Uchihas who didn't inherit Indra's curse of hatred," The sage of six paths nodded. "He also loved his village that he essentially gave his life for her survival."

"Shouldn't Itachi be the one resurrected?" Shisui offered his input.

"That can't be done Shisui," Harry shook his head. "It has to be you."

"Why me?" Shisui questioned. "Don't you think it'd be unfair for everyone who lost someone in the war but somehow I'm the one who gets resurrected?" He reasoned.

Harry and the sage looked at each other and smiled.

"Don't you want to go back Shisui?" Harry asked.

"I'm not saying I don't want to…" Shisui trailed off.

"Cedric…" Harry whispered to himself

Harry shook his head as he focused on his current circumstance.

"Ultimately Shisui, you have a choice," Harry looked at Shisui's eyes. "You can choose to go back to the pure world or be resurrected."

"Can I have some time to think over everything?" Shisui asked.

"Take your time." Harry nodded.

Shisui took his time to decide and Harry could understand. Unlike his circumstances, Shisui didn't have anyone left to protect when Harry still had more he cherished.

Harry may have accepted the fact that he may die but when a choice was given to him, he didn't hesitate to grab it.

One thing was sure, things were different for one Shisui Uchiha.

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

"How is he alive?"

Were the words Shisui heard as soon as he regained consciousness, it immediately clued him on his current state: a living person.

"Unlike Madara, he didn't perform the hand seals necessary to keep himself in this world."

"No, only the Rinnegan has the ability to resurrect people from the dead."

"No, Chiyo-sama of the Hidden Sand used a medical jutsu to resurrect Gaara when his tailed beast was stolen from him at the cost of her own life."

"That still leaves the Rinnegan as the viable answer."

"Do you think Sasuke…"

"Why use the ability on Shisui and not on Itachi or his parents?"

"Then how?"

"Putting Shisui's resurrection on the sides for now, how're the people reacting?"

"The only people aware are the people present in the front lines, and the majority of them are indifferent on the matter."

"He's regained consciousness."

"Shisui Uchiha." Shisui was immediately aware that Tsunade was one of the people who was talking about him outside his room as he watched her appear through the door. "It appears that you have been resurrected." The fifth Hokage stood beside his bed and gave him an assessing stare.

"I don't really know lady Hokage," Shisui shook his head. "All I know that the Uchiha clan were reanimated at the place where I killed myself," He admitted. "Alongside the other casualties of the fourth shinobi world war."

"It appears someone used the Rinne Rebirth jutsu on you," Tsunade relayed. "That is the ability exclusive to the Rinnegan that resurrects the dead." She looked at the clip board she was holding." However, there's only one living person who has the Rinnegan, the others who have this bloodline are dead when you were resurrected."

"Grandma."

Naruto barged into the room.

"You're supposed to be resting Naruto," The fifth Hokage admonished. "You wanted a new hand attached to your arm."

"I know that but Grandpa Sage said that I needed to tell you something."

"The Sage of Six Paths?" Shisui raised an eyebrow, remembering the events of the war.

"Well?" Tsunade prompted impatiently.

"He said that Shisui was revived un…kon…" Naruto struggled. "Gaah! Why'd he have to use complicated words?!" He whined.

"You're saying that Shisui was resurrected using unconventional standards?" Tsunade finished Naruto's train of thought.

"Yes! Yes that!" Naruto eagerly nodded.

"Lady Tsunade, Shisui shouldn't even have his eyes." Sakura reported. "According to Sasuke and Kakashi-sensei, Madara's eyes disappeared when he used the Rinne Rebirth jutsu on himself."

"And According to Ibiki's report, the way the Reanimation jutsu works was what their body was what like when they died, if they died without their eyes, they shouldn't even have eyes." The fifth Hokage hummed. "Madara was the exception."

"According to Grandpa Sage, the reaper was the one who reanimated him." Naruto supplied.

"The reaper?" Sakura questioned.

"I'm guessing that's the being that appears when the Yondaime and Sandaime used the Reaper Sealing jutsu." Tsunade speculated. "In that case, I suppose this is one mystery that will never be solved." Tsunade announced. "I'm declaring that the circumstances of Shisui Uchiha's resurrection an S-class secret."

"Isn't that a bit overkill Lady Hokage?" Shisui asked. "It's not like we found something out, and wouldn't declaring my circumstance pose more danger?"

"You are right Uchiha." Tsunade nodded. "However, by declaring your circumstances an S-rank secret, we can avoid people asking questions." She offered.

-----------

"Are you sure you're okay about this?" Harry questioned Death as they watched what was happening in the Hidden Leaf's hospital. "Getting the credit for something that we know is a lie."

"No harm done," Death shrugged. "No one in this world knows of your circumstances, aside from the sage," They pointed out. "Even then I don't think he's sure of what you represent master."

"You and I both know that I'm not your master." Harry rolled his eyes. "You also know how I feel about garnering a title that I did not earn."

"But you did, uniting all three hallows." Death rebutted.

"Yeah if we're talking about technicalities, and you know we're not," Harry argued. "Why'd you even create them anyway?"

"Just like with Shisui, it was a reward," Death answered. "But unlike Shisui, it was a test of morals and values."

"Morals and values?" Harry snorted. "You do know that the wizards and witches are the worst kind of sort, especially the pure blooded ones."

"That's why it was a test," Death shrugged. "I was testing on how they would use my gifts. The first brother was ego centric and a bit of a narcissist, so he immediately boasted his new wand.

The second brother was a lover, but he let his love consume his being.

The third brother was a lot like you, he just wanted a quiet life and didn't want to be in the spotlight like his first brother, he let his love define but never consume him."

"So it wasn't a trick like some books had surmised?"

"It never was a trick Harry." Death shook their head. "I was never angry at them for escaping their supposed demise in the first place."

"So you mean to say that you never searched for the third brother?"

"Why would I search? The effects of the invisibility cloak never affected me." Death offered. "I suppose you could say that the cloak was a timer of sorts and I would only collect any soul in possession of the cloak when the timer passes."

"So if the third brother was the same as the first and second brothers, what could've happened?"

"There are a lot of possibilities, had he used the cloak, like how a certain toad sage would, he could be a case of dying of 'I did not know he was standing in front of me while I was practicing for the curse.'"

"Have you seen that happen?"

"Interestingly enough, the third brother has always acted the same way, despite the different circumstances of how the brothers acquired the hallows."

"So the existence of the hallows are also consistent in other realities."

"Of course." Death nodded. "Let me change the topic for a bit."

"Go on."

"Why'd you mention your fellow Triwizard Champion when you talked with Shisui?" Death asked, curious.

"Shisui reminded me of Cedric," Harry admitted. "I think, if he had survived the tournament, he'd do what Shisui had done."

"You do realize that there are realities whe-"

"Where he's a death eater, I know." Harry finished Death's train of thought. "We both know the circumstances behind such a radical change in character."

"Like with Shisui and Itachi, Cedric was a double agent, using the circumstances of his loss to gain audience with the Dark Lord and the one of the things that your son and Scorpius didn't know was that Cedric was never the cause for Neville's death."

"Cedric was a huge loss to the Wizarding World, judging by the circumstances that happened after the tournament in the world where he supported Riddle." Harry sighed.

----------

"So who's going to be the clan head?" Naruto found himself asking the question to Iruka. "Should it be Sasuke because of his present age or Shisui who was born years before Sasuke."

"What brought this question Naruto?" Iruka raised an eyebrow.

"I dunno," Naruto shrugged. "It just came to me."

"Technically speaking, you're the clan head of the Uzumaki clan Naruto, as its only known living member." Iruka stated.

"What use is being a leader if you're not leading anyone? What use is being a kage in an empty village?" Naruto pointed out.

"That's the same situation for both Uchihas." Iruka answered. "Shisui and Sasuke are the only Uchihas left and there is no need for a leader with only two members, one of which is the leader."

"What about the Shinobi council?" Naruto questioned.

"I'm afraid that the Uchihas have little to no power on the matters of the council for the same reasons why the clan has no head, the things that would be decided in the council would have little to no effect on them."

"What if Sasuke or Shisui were to revive the Uchiha Police Corps?"

"Then they have a seat on the Shinobi Council." Iruka smiled. "I'm really happy that you're taking this lessons seriously Naruto."

"I can see why these are important to become Hokage and being a ninja does not only revolve around flashy jutsus and overpowering the enemy," Naruto grumbled. "Does not mean I like it."

"I know how frustrating it is for you." Iruka offered a comforting pat on the boy's shoulder. "You've always been someone who learned things through physical activities instead of just listening and reading." He smiled. "I know that you can pull through this."

"I will definitely finish this and become Hokage! Believe it!" Naruto declared.

"I definitely believe."

[sammysreelreviews]

Counting Down My Top 20 Films Of The Decade: Part 2

Here we are y’all, the last decade list. I can’t believe I actually finished this list. This list took fucking forever and I can’t believe I’m finally sharing it! All my decade lists are listed here in my intro to the first part of my top 20! Okay so some of these choices may be crazy, I know, but I picked the movies that have made me feel things and movies that I have watched over and over and over again. I’m so glad I got to reminisce on all these wonderful films and I’m so happy to share this with the world! My next post won’t be until 2020 and the topic is still to be determined but it will be a list of television shows cause I know how much y’all love that. This past year has been a roller coaster for me but one positive is that my blog really grew! I appreciate anyone who reads or shares or likes any of my posts it means the world to me. Even when I was at my absolute worst I kept up with this blog and everyone who interacts with it helps keep me going. I hope everyone has a happy and healthy New Years! Before I forget ***THERE WILL BE SPOILERS!!!*** Mwah!

10. Upgrade (2018)

This past year I realized that I may like sci-fi movies more than I thought. My friend Kelsey raved about this and after I watched I 100% saw why. This action packed film about a technophobe looking for revenge is absolutely insane!!! I don’t wanna give it away cause I highly recommend you watch this so if you wanna hear more about it click here!

9. Drive (2011)

Ugh, I don’t have much to say about this BRILLIANT film cause words are not enough but that elevator scene alone deserves an Oscar. The 80’s themed soundtrack, and neon lights started a revolution in 2010 indie cinema and I stand by that.

8. La La Land (2016)

I wrote a review on this movie that you can read here so I’ll keep this brief. When I watched this in theaters I sobbed at the end because it just reminded me of how much I loved film and writing screenplays. Anytime I feel like I can’t do anything or that I’m not progressing I put La La Land on and remember a career in film is what I’m meant to do.

7. Happy Death Day (2017)

I’m really going to try to not talk about this movie in 2020 but I can not make any promises. If you follow me I am so sorry you have to see me mention this movie for the 7000th time. If you’re new here first of all, welcome! Second of all, you can read all about it here, here, and here. I love Happy Death Day so much and the sequel is just as good so please rent it or stream it! I want a 3rd movie! I need it!!!

6. Nocturnal Animals (2016)

This is one of the most underrated films ever. Like where was the Oscar nomination?! I wrote an entire review about it so you can read more about it here! All I’m gonna say is, that scene where she’s getting an abortion and Jake Gyllenhaal is waiting outside in he fucking rain for her?!?! I literally gasped in theaters. 

5. Scott Pilgrim vs. The World (2010)

Let me start by saying that this is the funniest movie ever created. I know every single line to this film and every time I watch it I still laugh which is impressive because I’ve literally been watching this movie for almost a decade now. I’m kind of out of words to say because there are so many things worth mentioning but I’ll try! Let’s start with the how insane this cast is. Can you believe that this movie has Superman, Captain America, and Captain Marvel!? The best Avengers movie is this one if you ask me! Michael Cera is always hysterical but Kieran Culkin is one of my favorite parts of this movie. When this movie came out I had a crush on Jonny Simmons so he was one of the reasons I saw it but he’s underrated as Young Neil. Anna Kendrick and Aubrey Plaza have small parts but they make quite the impact. Alison Pill deserves a damn Oscar already! She’s honestly one of the best actresses of our generation. Ellen Wong as Knives Chau kills me and I was so excited when she was a main cast member on The Carrie Diaries. Lastly, Mae Whitman says one of my favorite lines ever and although she’s in the movie for like 3 scenes she certainly makes the most of the little time she’s given. The comedic timing of this film is perfection and it’s one of the only movies where every single scene is entertaining! There are so many things I quote from this movie it’d be unfair to only pick one honestly but “Alright this next song goes out to the guy who keeps yelling from the balcony. It’s called We Hate You, Please Die.” And that song title is exactly what I think of anyone who does not enjoy this PERFECT film.

4. Like Crazy (2011)

If you know me you know how much I love this movie, movies about love, and how much I loved Anton Yelchin so this movie is a firm sucker punch to the gut. I haven’t watched it since Anton passed but it’s one of the most emotional films I’ve ever seen. A couple with an ocean between them is probably the decade’s best romance. Felicity and Anton had insane chemistry and improvised most of the movie. I would write more but I’m tearing up thinking about Anton *insert every sad and crying emoji*.

3. Call Me By Your Name (2017)

When I first saw this movie I left the theater asking myself why this movie was such a big deal. Then I got in my car and started bawling my eyes out. What I love about CMBYM is how optimistic it makes you feel about love the whole time Elio (Timothée Chalamet) and Oliver (Armie Hammer) were falling in love I had puppy dog eyes. I’m a Pisces so I’m all about deep and fleeting love and every time I watch this movie it gets me in my fucking feels! When Elio cried on the car ride home after saying bye to Oliver but they couldn’t give each other a proper goodbye cause they’re gay and it was the 80’s!!! HeartBREAKING! Not only did this movie make me wanna runaway to Italy but It’s also one of the sexiest movies of the decade and I haven’t looked at peaches the same since.

2. Gone Girl (2014)

I read Gone Girl before I saw the movie and I’ve regretted it everyday since. The book took me three days to finish, which is a lot for me, and I felt like it was too detailed. In the book you read a lot of Amy’s (Rosamund Pike) journal entries which makes it pretty obvious that she’s alive and well. I hate Ben Affleck but honestly he was the perfect choice to play Nick. This movie is one of the only movies that is better than the book. When this was on HBO I literally watched it every time it was on tv for months. The cinematography is phenomenal and the acting is even better. Fincher is a genius and in my eyes, Gone Girl is his best work.

1. Black Swan (2010)

The flavor this film has... I mean it’s immaculate. Growing up I studied at Boston Ballet School and it was very intense! Those ten years helped shape me into the woman I am today. While I did ballet I used to always go see ballets cause we got discounted tickets and my favorite was Swan Lake. The music, the story, the costumes, it’s all so beautiful and timeless. When the film came out I was so excited. I had no idea what to expect but if it’s about ballet I am in. I love this movie so much it’s dark, the acting is superb, and nothing is better than Tchaikovsky’s music blaring in the background during the most climatic scenes. Black Swan might be my third favorite movie of all time but it’s 100% my favorite movie of the 2010’s. I have no idea not know why it didn’t win best picture.

[writing-prompts-for-friends]

Notes from Stephen King’s “On Writing” 05: Description, Dialogue, Creating Characters

Description

"Description begins in the writer's imagination, but should finish in the reader's."

We all know that too much description robs the reader of their imagination and bores them, yet too little description leaves them confused and scratching their heads. So how can we strike a middle ground with confidence?

"Good description is a learned skill, one of the prime reasons why you cannot succeed unless you read a lot and write a lot. It's not just a question of how to, you see; it's also a question of how much to. Reading will help you answer how much, and only reams of writing will help you with the how. You can learn only by doing."

King says that he personally doesn't like to provide detailed descriptions of how his characters look. He would rather have the reader supply their faces, builds, and clothing. To exemplify, he says:

"If I tell you that Carrie White is a high school outcast with a bad complexion and a fashion-victim wardrobe, I think you can do the rest, can't you? I don't need to give you a pimple-by-pimple, skirt-by-skirt rundown. We all remember one or more high school losers, after all; if I describe mine, it freezes out yours, and I lose a little bit of the bond of understand I want to forge between us. Description begins in the writer's imagination, but should finish in the reader's."

Maybe it's because now more than ever we are obsessed with visual media, be it TV or film or social media, but I personally feel a need to give detailed physical descriptions of my characters. Does anyone else feel the same? But what King said really made a lot of sense to me--by keeping the descriptions of the characters non-distinct, we allow the readers to fill in the gaps and make a character that is even more relatable to them. I think that's genius.

On the other hand, King feels that locale and texture are more important to the reader's sense of actually being in the story. Describe the region the story takes place in (but don't go full Tolkein on your readers, please). Paint a picture of the house and town in broad, distinct strokes.

"For me, good description usually consists of a few well-chosen details that will stand for everything else. In most cases, these details will be the first ones that come to mind. Certainly they will do for a start. If you decide later on that you'd like to change, add, or delete, you can do so--it's what rewrite was invented for. But I think you will find that, in most cases, your first visualized details will be the truest and best. It's as easy to overdescribe as it is to underdescribe. Probably easier."

So let's say that you want to use a certain real-life restaurant as the setting of a scene in your story. This is a restaurant that you have actually frequented. Now close your eyes and picture that place. What are the first 4-5 things that come to your mind? Could be how to looks or smells, what sort of clientele is usually there, anything. Take those 4-5 details and only use those to describe the place in your writing. Let the reader do the rest of the work.

"In many cases when a reader puts a story aside because it 'got boring,' the boredom arose because the writer grew enchanted with his powers of description and lost sight of his priority, which is to keep the ball rolling."

Oh man, I really agree with this. I quit reading LotR because I just couldn't force myself through another description of goddamn rivers and valleys.

On the Use of Similes

"When it's on target, a simile delights us in much the same way meeting an old friend in a crowd of strangers does."

When we compare two seemingly unrelated objects, we are sometimes able to see an old thing in a new and vivid way. But you have to make sure that the simile makes sense and isn't cliched. Don't use "he ran like a madman" or something. Come up with your own.

"The key to good description begins with clear seeing and ends with clear writing, the kind of writing that employs fresh images and simple vocabulary."

There are a lot of authors that do a great job describing things like king says, but there is one specific line from Neil Gaiman's Coraline that stands out to me. Coraline has just discovered the hallway that leads to the Other House, and the sentence describes the hall.

"It smelled like something very old and slow."

Simple vocabulary, yet very fresh. I love this sentence and its eeriness.

Dialogue

"It's dialogue that gives your cast their voices, and is crucial in defining their characters--only what people do tells us more about what they're like, and talk is sneaky: what people say often conveys their character to others in ways of which they--the speakers--are completely unaware."

You can explain through narration or backstory that a character didn't do well in school or didn't finish it, but you could also demonstrate that through dialogue. Conversely, you can show just how smart they are, or how honest/dishonest, lighthearted/serious they are through dialogue alone.

Have you ever read dialogue that makes you think, "Man, nobody talks like this!" because it feels so stilted or forced? I'm certain you have. So how can we prevent ourselves from crafting dialogue that feels inauthentic?

"Dialogue is a skill best learned by people who enjoy talking and listening to others--particularly listening."

Picking up the accents, rhythms, dialect, and slang of various groups helps give your writing a certain veracity that readers pick up on instinctually.

A Word on Political Correctness in Dialogue/Characters

"As with all other aspects of fiction, the key to writing good dialogue is honesty."

King says that not a week goes by that he doesn't get an angry letter accusing him of being foul-mouthed, bigoted, homophobic, murderous, frivolous, or downright psychopathic, and usually the people writing these letters are upset about certain lines of dialogue within his stories.

Sometimes you are going to have a character that holds unpleasant opinions and uses unpleasant words to get them across. That doesn't necessarily mean that what the character believes/says is what you believe. And, in my own opinion, I think it is important to have these non-pc characters in our stories. How can we combat ignorance if we do not draw attention to it? Sweeping it under the rug does nothing but prolong the problem.

So if a character is prone to swearing, don't substitute their expletives for words like "shoot" or "dang." Have them say "shit" or "damn." If a character is a homophobe, have them vocalize their sentiments if the scene deems it appropriate. Don't censor your characters.

Building Characters

"The job of building characters in fiction boils down to two things: paying attention to how the real people around you behave and then telling the truth about what you see."

Take note of the people around you. Many fictional characters are drawn piece by piece from people in real life. For King, what happens to his characters as the story progresses depends solely on what he discovers about them as he goes along. Sometimes their character grows only a little. But other times, their characters grow a so much that they influence the course of the story instead of the other way around.

"I think the best stories always end up being about people rather than the event, which is to say character-driven. Once you get beyond the short story, though (two to four thousand words, let's say), I'm not much of a believer in the so-called character study; I think in the end, the story should always be the boss."

Most readers want to see not only a progression in plot, but also in character development, so trying to have both of those is important.

"It's also important to remember that no one is 'the bad guy' or 'the best friend' or 'the whore with a heart of gold' in real life; in real life we each of us regard ourselves as the main character, the protagonist. If you can bring this attitude into your fiction, you may not find it easier to create brilliant characters, but it will be harder for you to create the sort of one-dimensional dopes that populate so much of pop fiction."

King goes on to explain how when he wrote Misery, a novel about a crazy nurse who holds her favorite author Paul Sheldon hostage in her remote house, he went to great lengths to give the reader a view of the nurse Annie Wilkes' perspective. To us, she seems psychopathic. But to her, she seems perfectly sane and reasonable.

"If I can make you understand her madness--then perhaps I can make her someone you sympathize with or even identify with. The result? She's more frightening than ever, because she's close to real. If, on the other hand, I turn her into a cackling old crone, she's just another pop-up bogeylady. In that case, I lose bigtime, and so does the reader. Who would want to visit with such a stale shrew? That version of Annie was old when The Wizard of Oz was in its first run."

What is really boils down to is making sure that each of your characters are three-dimensional within your own mind. As long as they feel like real people in your head, capable of making rational decisions and feeling rational emotion (as fits their unique nature), that should be able to be seen by the reader as the story unfolds.

On Creative Liberties

“Try any goddamn thing you like, no matter how boringly normal or outrageous. If it works, fine. If it doesn’t toss it. Toss it even if you love it. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch once said, ‘Murder your darlings,’ and he was right.”

Write however you want. Use whatever techniques you want. Have fun with it. It’s yours before it is anybody else’s. And you can’t please all the readers all the time, but if you can come out happy with the end product, surely you can please some of the readers some of the time, and that is enough. 

Source: King, Stephen. On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft. Hodder, 2012.

[nev3rfound]

not who you think : p.6

brief summary: whilst keeping you hostage, bucky learns about your brothers intentions and how he can keep both you and steve safe. that is until steve interrupts a situation he never anticipated witnessing

word count: 2k requested: yes - by so many of you so thank you! warnings: mentions of violence, some language 

* masterlist of sorts *

* commissions 

P1 / P2 / P3 / P4 / P5 / P6 / P7 / P8

(I’ve just finished planning how this series’ ends and oof. shit hurts)

Opening your eyes you blink a few times, hoping the weight holding your eyelids down will ease. “God,” You mutter under your breath as the pulsing in your head increases. 

“She awake?” You listen to one familiar voice, and you force a light laugh.

“Of course it’s you.” You comment, slowly lifting your head up to be greeted by small smiles from Sam and Bucky. Your memory of the events leading up to this moment remains hazy. All you remember was Jason, him running at you, the silver blade and the luminous shades of red and blue from the sirens. “Whose genius idea was this then? Kidnapping me?” You ask them both and watch as Sam immediately points to Bucky who merely rolls his eyes in response. 

“Wow, good to know you’re reliable Sam.” Bucky mutters as he steps forward, glancing down at the wound on your leg. “Take it that was Jason’s doing?” 

“What’s it to do with you, Buck. I told Jason I don’t want any part of it.” You tell him, watching as Bucky keeps his cool eyes locked on yours. “Not that you’d believe that for a second anyway.” You mutter under your breath, knowing it’s the truth.

Sam places his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, averting the former assassin's attention. “She’s telling the truth.” He states bluntly, causing you to raise an eyebrow this time.

“And what makes you so sure?” You ask Sam, wishing you could cross your arms if they weren’t tied up. 

Shuffling closer toward you, Sam holds back his fear as his eyes lock on yours. “I know when people lie. And trust me, you’re not one of ‘em.” 

You glance over to Bucky, smiling. “See?” You retort before motioning to your hands and legs. “Now may I be untied so I can ensure my friend and colleague isn’t fearful of my location. I have classes to assist you know.” You huff, watching as Bucky crosses his arms over his chest. “Silent treatment, huh? Okay.” 

“Look, we’re not planning on hurting you, Y/n.” Bucky tells you, his arms returning to his sides as he gives up on trying to outdo you in a silent match. “We just need to keep you low for a while, until Jason is gone or the whole thing has blown over.” Bucky explains, but you shake your head to him.

“Bucky, it isn’t going to blow over. How many times do I have to tell you!” You raise your voice, the irritation, the mild pain in your leg, the heartache you have for Steve. All of it is rising to the surface at the same time, you’re close to your tether. “Jason has a deadline. Kill Steve or he dies.” You state coldly, hearing the words leaving your lips as they’re not your own. 

Bucky straightens up and sighs under his breath. “So you backed down then. For Steve?” 

Lifting your heavy eyes up, you simply nod. “Of course I did. I, I’d do anything for Steve.” You explain, glancing to Sam. “Am I lying?” 

Sam shakes his head, walking toward a door and Bucky follows him toward the exit as you remain seated, not that you had a choice in the matter. “What’d we do now?” Sam mutters to Bucky who glances over at you and turns back to face the guy he’s dragged into this mess. 

“We gotta tell someone.” Bucky releases a sigh of defeat, something he didn’t want to do.

“What would you do if it was Rebecca, Bucky?” You call out, interrupting their conversation. 

Closely, Sam watches Bucky’s expression change. His hardened eyes softening at the mention of the girl's name. “You don’t get to say her name.” Bucky spits, but you don’t flinch like most would.

“What would you do, Barnes?” You repeat the question, cutting it short. “Would you side with your sister because she’s family, or let her die because she isn’t who you grew up loving?” 

Bucky turns back to face you. “I’d beat it out of her until she came to some sense.” Bucky mumbles a response, causing you to roll your eyes.

“What would you do today, Bucky. In this era.” You remark, and Bucky simply shrugs his shoulders. “Exactly. If Rebecca were to appear, a trained assassin about to kill Steve, would you let her and lose your best friend, or watch her die?” 

The soldier remains silent. Words failing him as he lowers his head, the response you anticipated. 

“She would still be your family, right?” You add, watching as Bucky nears the door. “And you’d willingly let her die?” You’re shouting, eyes focused on him as he opens the door and slams it shut behind him. 

“You tried.” Sam mutters, giving you a half-smile before walking out of the door, closing it behind him.

You let out a small sigh before glancing down at the ropes tied on your hands. As if Barnes really thought this would hold you here. “Here goes nothin’” You mutter as you begin to force your body up and slam down, falling backwards. 

Groaning loudly, you wince. You’ve torn your stitches, and you’re still tied up.

The heavy door opens, and wide eyes stare at you from Bucky. You let out a small laugh. “Any help?” 

*

Bucky sat opposite you for hours, listening to you explain everything that happened. He wouldn’t leave without knowing every detail, what your brother said to you and what you might know about these people determined to kill Steve. 

“But why Steve?” Bucky asks once again and you let out a long sigh. 

“I told you, Buck.” You repeat yourself, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Steve is a good human being, and they do not want that. He’s the defence they can’t beat. And we both know the only way around someone you can't’ beat is to kill ‘em off.” 

A shudder runs through Bucky, having seen you so sweet days prior and now bloodied up, sounding like the young woman he trained. “Careful Y/n,” He warns. “you’re starting to sound like him.” 

You stare blankly at Bucky, hating the fact he said those words. “I’ll never be like him, Bucky.” You tell him coldly. “I promised myself that when I left.” 

Leaning forward, Bucky rests his arms across his thighs. “So why’d you do it? Why leave when you had that perfect cover-up at all times?” 

“You know I was going to die in there, Bucky.” You state, thinking back to how thin you became. Your spine poked through your skin, you were forever covered in cuts and bruises until Bucky came to help you, took you under his wing or moreso metal arm. “I couldn’t take it, the idea of being a cold-blooded killer until I was killed or tortured.” 

“I know, and I am sorry you lived through that, and I am sorry I made Jason who he is.” It never left him, even after everything Bucky still felt the guilt eat at him. When you left, he couldn’t stay. He made your brother into a heartless monster and you an assassin with too much of a heart. Bucky tried looking for you, but he never succeeded. “I tried looking for you, you know.” Bucky speaks up quietly, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Guess you didn’t look very hard.” You retort, a short laugh following. 

Bucky shakes his head. “Word got ‘round you changed your identity. With no luck with technology, I ran into dead end after dead end.” 

“I couldn’t let anyone find me. I needed to start again, even if it meant moving away from everything I knew.” You can feel yourself back to the day you left. You were out in the world, no longer on a tight leash waiting to be pulled back. 

It was overwhelming, terrifying and brilliant all at once. You could run and scream, cry and sing without consequences. Immediately you cut your hair, you changed your personality and style to blend in rather than stand out. You dedicated a year to blending in. That was until you met Steve. 

Never in your life had you found someone instantly caring like Steve. A simple accident, a misunderstanding lead to so much more. His gentle hand on your arm to help you to your feet, the generous offer of buying another coffee as he smiled with his bright blue eyes. You were feeling things you hadn’t felt in years; butterflies. 

“Something changed though.” Bucky states, watching as your eyes drift off, clearly out of the room and trapped in your own thoughts. 

Clicking his fingers in front of your face, you snap out from thinking of Steve’s smile as he brought you close to his chest in the middle of the night, whispering sweet nothings to you. 

“What?” You ask, sniffing softly. 

“Nevermind,” Bucky mutters as he rises to his feet, unsure what’s left to say. 

*

Walking through the compound with heavy feet, Steve can feel his heart being dragged ten paces behind him. Never had he felt the weight being so unbearable as he walked on shattered glass. 

“Sam?” Steve calls out, seeing Sam sat at the kitchen counter despite it being 2am. “What’re you doing up?” 

Sam looks at Steve with wide eyes before averting his gaze back to his phone. “Nothin’” He comments. “just reading about the news, seeing what’s going on in the world.” 

Steve nods before sitting down a few seats from Sam. With a heavy sigh, he rests his arm on the table, holding his head in his hand. “How’d you do it?” Steve questions and Sam raises an eyebrow. “How’d you move on?” 

Looking to his friend, Sam can see how much it’s affecting Steve. It’s only been a few days, but you’re definitely on his mind. Sam knows heartache, and Steve is a clear example of the damage it can have. 

“Sometimes you don’t, other times you gotta make friends with your heart.” Sam states as he walks over, patting Steve’s back. “There will be others, Steve.” He tries to reassure his friend, but Steve shrugs his hand off, giving him a cold look.

Steve shakes his head. No, there won’t be. “You didn’t know her, Sam.” Steve comments and Sam remains silent. “She wasn’t what she seems. There was so much more to her than meets the eye. She is beautiful, full of mystery and full of love. God, she had so much love to give and she was kind enough to share it with me?” The longer he talks, the heavier his voice begins to sound. 

Sam bites his tongue, wishing he could point in the direction of where you are. That you’re in the building, sitting in a room with Bucky. But he knows he can’t. It won’t help anything, only make things worse. 

“Have you spoken to Bucky about it?” Sam asks, hoping to lead him toward Bucky. “I know he’s still up, you know how he is.” Sam rises to his feet, taking his phone before heading out of the kitchen. “Just ask FRIDAY, Steve. And remember, trust your heart, it’ll heal you.” 

“Thanks, Sam.” Steve smiles to his friend as he wanders out of sight. “FRIDAY, where is Bucky?” 

“Sargent Barnes is in the lower quarters of the compound.” FRIDAY announces to Steve and he hums, furrowing his eyebrows together before heading off as curiosity plagues his mind. 

As Steve wanders further, he can faintly hear Bucky talking to someone. He pauses outside of a large metal door, one he vaguely remembers from Tony’s tour of the house. This was where they initially planned on keeping Bruce in case he went green, but it wasn’t going to be strong enough for him leaving it a redundant space. 

“Why not tell him?” Steve leans closer, hearing Bucky’s voice. 

His hand hesitates on the doorknob and applies pressure, ready to open it. “It’ll break his heart, Bucky.” 

Your voice. You. You’re here? Steve freezes momentarily, heat and hate flooding through his body before he forces the door open, expecting the worst. 

“Steve?” Bucky states with wide eyes. 

“Hey, Steve.” You whisper, avoiding his gaze as his eyes are icy as he stares at you both.

“Either one of you care to explain this?” Steve asks, watching as Bucky looks over to you, hoping you’ll take the lead.

taglist for this series (if you wanna be tagged feel free to ask!) - if your url has been crossed through it means it did not work for some reason

@dlb113 @savagittariuspy @classyunknownlover @kit-kat-katie99@untoldshortsofthefandoms@avengemepercy@galacticstxrdust@benhardyslut@nerdy-jelly-art @buckyxwintersxldier @thefandomplace@littlegangrel@geek-and-proud @dottirose @marvelousmendess@myboyfriendgiriboy @nicole-lynne @weasleyisourjedi @oais-sis@isabella212@joe-mazzello-is-my-dad@capstopavenger @sucre-caroline @rinymichelle321@sltwins@evanstush @smileyishere92 @dark-night-sky-99@daintyreindeer@amillionworlds @imjustanonymousy @love-me-91393@tearsforhan@newyorkcomixx @luckylightfiction @peek-a-boo-boo-boo@silverinealchemy @xjaelee @carebaredanvers @caninoona @shallowshawn @jennifersier @darkdragonpheonix @mca-attack21 @capstopavenger @i-love-superhero

[wafflewarriors]

Of Daydreams and Realities

Chapter 11: Ugly Goodbyes

Dean held up his EMF meter, his mouth pinched into a grim line. You could tell he was thinking by the way his eyes looked at comatose-you, lost in his own mind.

You said aloud, “What are you thinking?” You stood before him, eye to eye, but he could not see or hear you.

Dean looked at Sam, who gave him a knowing look. “You know what I gotta do, Sammy.”

Sam only nodded, clearly reluctant, but it had to be done. Both hunters knew it.

The two doctors and the detective did not, however. John asked cautiously, “What?”

Dean gave a daring smile and said, “I’m going to have to die.” There was a strange twinkle in his smile.

///

Everything kind of went to chaos. The Doctor began refusing outright, while John began demanding questions. Sam tried to defuse the two while Dean searched for the proper equipment. Death was not something to play with. One wrong move, and Dean was stuck with you.

Sherlock just stood there, trying to understand with his observant eyes. Why would a man lay his faith on you being a ghost to the point where it would cost his own life? There must be a catch.

Sam just quit trying altogether and began helping Dean while the Doctor panicked behind them, unsure of how to stop this madness.

John stepped forward to stop Sam from helping Dean, but Sherlock grabbed his shoulder to hold him in place. “John, let them.”

“What? This is suicide!”

“No, he’ll be coming back.”

John couldn’t believe his ears. “What?”

“He’ll come back. He’s trying to talk with her. Don’t you see? He’s temporarily flatlining so he can speak with her. It’s brilliant.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.”

“I don’t. But if they were, his strategy is absolutely brilliant, John. Brilliant.” He watched Dean lay down, letting his breaths steady. “Have you done this before?”

“Yep.”

Sherlock was captivated.

///

Once everyone had settled and was ready for this to work, the Doctor and Sherlock began working out how to fully mend the tear in dimensions.

“If we leave it be, the tear will continue to fester and grow until it’s irreparable.Usually, this wouldn’t be too catastrophic, if they were normal dimensions. But your dimension,” the Doctor pointed to Dean and Sam, “is full of monsters and demons and ugly, ugly creatures, and yours” he points to Sherlock, “has terrible criminals, and mine,” he says, but softer, “constantly has aliens tampering with Earth and time. We are not a good match.”

It took a little while for Sherlock to fully understand the gravity of the situation and it’s dynamics, but he caught on. He racked his brilliant mind and brainstormed for genius ideas.

John, Dean, and Sam watched the two clever idiots work out a solution. They brainstormed themselves, nonetheless. It made them feel a bit more useful.

Of course, Dean was the one to figure it out. Few people gave him the credit he deserved when it came to smarts. Dean was intelligent. Very, very intelligent. Just a different way than most people. Things that were simple required more thought and overthinking, and things that would be complicated came easier. It all just needed some common sense. “Well, she’s a ghost, couldn’t she just, I don’t know, possess her other body? The one in her world?”

The Doctor’s eyes grew wide like dinner plates. “Oh! That’s it! You know, I had a theory. It is possible that she’s alive in her other dimension. It would make more sense. It’s trying to synchronize. They’re both in comas.”

Sherlock was staring at you, lost in his mind palace for a minute. “We could return her to her own body and just shut the gate behind us.”

Sam murmured, “But her body here would die. We’d have to bury her.”

There was a silence.

“But we would know she’s alive, and in her own world. Where she belongs.” John said.

Everyone agreed.

///

You sat on the floor. It was all you could do; you couldn’t sit on the bed, or prop yourself up against the walls, or sit comfortably in any way. The best you could do was sit beside your hospital bed, which towered over you.

“Hey.”

You turned. Here comes one of the boys again. You sighed, laying down and resting your arm over your eyes.

Dean whistles. “Hey. Wow, okay that’s depressing. Am I that boring?”

Where was he going with this? You turned to look, and realized he was looking at you. He could see you.

“Oh, wow. Your plan worked. I wasn’t expecting that.”

He was wearing whitish-grey hoodie with light blue jeans. He didn’t cry ‘ghost’ like your white t-shirt and sweatpants did, though.

“Yeah,” he said. “I am an expert though. I know Death himself. Literally.” He was being extra casual about this. He sat beside you, making himself as comfortable as possible on the hard tile floor. The infirmary had been your prison for a little less than a week, now. He looked around, thinking and pursing his lips before finally saying, “I have an idea, but I want to know your thoughts on it.”

That was very vague. “…okay.”

“I think there’s a way to get you out of this coma.”

You perked. “Well, of course I’m going to take it! How? How do we do it?”

“Hold on, hold on. Sammy and I and the other three were talkin’. I figured I’d tell you.”

“How do we do it? Dean  seriously, tell me. I am so sick of this room.”

“I know. We… think that the other you is in a coma, too. If we could match you up with that body, theoretically, you’d wake up.” He wiped a hand along his face. “The point is, you’d have to return to your own world. You would possess your true body, and we’d, theoretically, be able to close the tear behind us. But… you’d be stuck in your own world.”

No… no that wasn’t right. That couldn’t be. “But I’m… I like it here. Apart from first meetings… you guys kept me hopeful. I can’t go back. Not when I’ve seen the TARDIS, or the Impala, or Sherlock Holmes. I can’t. I can’t just leave my favorite stories like they never happened. Dean, you guys are the best thing that’s ever happened to me! I was nobody! Just some kid flunking in college!”

“Then I’m sorry.”

And he faded away, back to life.

“No! Come back!” You screeched. “Dean!”

The walls echoed back, but there was no reply.

You belted a scream of frustration and rage, and punched at the floor, the only thing you could physically touch without passing through. How dare he. How dare he make you go back. You wanted to stay! They were known to find other solutions, so find them! Your head hurt as you ugly-sobbed, curling into yourself. “No… no…no…nonono…” Why were they throwing you away? Why were they doing this? You crumbled, thick sobs escaping your chest. This was so much worse than being a ghost.

So so much worse.

Tags: @jay-bel​, @buttercup337​, @seriously-n0pe​, @hermionejacobs​,  @rosaren2498​, @beeblisss​, @queen-bubble​, @bider-man​, @calumhoodisthicc​

[carol-effing-danvers]

push me, pull you

this is part three of the series “run long, roam far, return soon” part one: “knock me the fuck out (i dare ya, babe)” (cont.) (fin.) part two: “where we grew up”

(click here if you’d prefer to read this in AO3′s format)

“You guys have been in here for over twenty minutes,” Steve complains, turning into the kitchen of the Wheeler’s house – not the same as the one they lived in while Nancy and Mike where in high school. Karen got her heart set on a fixer-upper after Mike left for college and it became a passion project for her. It’s old, charming, and deeply haunted. “What are you two doing?”

Quickly, El turns away from Billy, nervously running her hand over the end of the braid draped over her shoulder. She’s dressed a little nicer than he normally sees her today, in a sweet flowing dress patterned in butterflies that leaves her shoulders bare. There’s always been an innocence to her, despite her childhood, or maybe because of it. A wide-eyed wonder that he secretly hopes she never loses.

Steve notices that Billy looks concerned as he informs Steve “El’s gotten herself ready for a big date.”

“Billy,” she pleads, mumbling at her hands. “I can’t.”

“Just ask,” he coaxes softly. “Even if he says ‘no’, anything is better than wondering. You know that.”

“Ask who what?” Steve asks, confused. Then, feeling like he’s been hit with a frying pan: “Jesus fuck, please do not say Lucas, I will have a fucking heart attack-”

Lucas has spent six years hoping that Max would see what a monstrous snake her husband was and leave his ass and Max has, from what Billy’s told, regretted most of the eight years since they broke up for good. Steve can’t take watching life break El’s heart that way, not sweet and loyal Eleven.

“Henderson,” Billy says, clipped and brusque. “She’s talking about Henderson.”

“Why would you talk El into asking Dust on a date?” he says, even more confused now. “Eleven doesn’t even want to talk to Dustin. I mean, I don’t think you hate him, but he’s pretty sure that you do. He can be dramatic sometimes.”

El trembles as she slides down the wall into a crouch. “I can’t!” she tells Billy, her eyes filling with tears. “Billy, I can’t! I’ve already messed it up.”

Crouching beside her, Billy says, “Why d’you never talk to him, honey?”

She shrugs, staring at the floor as she wipes furiously at her cheeks. “I can’t-I can’t remember how to talk around him,” she says, swallowing against a fresh urge to weep. “I forget words.”

“Yeah, baby, I know. Love can make you super dumb.” Billy says sympathetically and Steve feels sucker-punched when he realizes that he is talking about the way teenage Billy felt about teenage Steve.

Turning on his heel, Steve enters back into the group of people laughing around a game of mock D&D in Max’s living room. “Hey,” he says, smiling at Dustinas he gestures wildly with a half-empty glass of Guinness. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Um, yeah.” Dust downs the rest of his glass and hands their shoddily made up script to Erica. “Have fun. Make me proud.”

“Wow, the bar has never been lower.”

“I love you too, you little shit.” Steve begins pulling him along toward the kitchen. He’s not sure he’ll ever get over Dustin growing up to be bigger and taller than him. Bemused, he asks, “Where are we going?”

“I think that it’s time for El to apologize to you,” Steve says firmly. It was the one thing he was sure of – his realization may never have arrived if Billy hadn’t been laying in the hospital bed and apologized in that dead, traumatized monotone.

Dustin begins to resist a little. “No, Steve, c’mon. The six of us don’t really have to be attached at the hip.”

“You think she hates you.”

“No, I said she didn’t like me,” Dust replies patiently as they approach the kitchen. “That’s not the same thing.”

Billy and El are where he left them, and if he didn’t believe it before, he believes it when he actually looks at her reaction to seeing Dustin.

Eleven’s back straightens up and her eyes widen, leaning away from their approach like someone is actively holding a gun to her head. If Billy’s reaction to his own love was rage, El’s reaction seems to be terror.

“Dude, what did you guys do to her?” Dustin is just as clueless as Steve was, but it doesn’t take a genius like him to notice that she’s been crying recently. “Eleven…”

Even the simple act of hearing her name makes El tremble. Dustin can barely seem to stand looking at her and it pains him. Steve says, “If you guys ever want to get past this, then she needs to apologize to you.”

“Why the hell do you think she needs to apologize to me? I’m the asshole, you dipshits! Have the two of you seriously been telling her that was her fucking fault?!” Crouching, Dustin mutters, still without looking quite at her, “C’mon, you don’t need to do this. Go to The Party, I’ll talk to the idiots.”

“Dustin, what you talking about?” Steve demands, “What’s your fault?”

Startled, the younger man looks at him, blinks, then quickly says, “Nothing, stop harassing her about this. She doesn’t need to apologize, we don’t talk to each other, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have my back, okay?”

Billy tries to say something, but Steve cuts him off. If he knows what Dustin sounds like when he’s tired, then he also knows what Dustin looks like when he’s done something he shouldn’t have. “Why do you look guilty? Dust, what did you do? Why did you call yourself an asshole?”

Awkwardly fluffing his curly hair, like an exceptionally sad-looking poodle, Dustin grimaces and tells El, still without looking her directly in the eye, “Sorry, I thought you already told him. I should have known you wouldn’t rat me out. I’m sorry they’ve been bugging you.”

She stares at him, wide-eyed, as he turns to Steve and bluntly says “Eleven doesn’t like me because two weeks after graduation, after she broke up with Mike, I basically shoved my tongue down her throat.” Everyone in the room gapes at him in shock and he sighs heavily, “We were all at a bonfire, I was drunk, she was really drunk, She didn’t want to talk to me anymore, and I totally respect that. You guys need to stop this weird crusade to force her to like me, because it’s my fault. I earned it.”

Dustin flails his arms in a ‘so, there’ kind of gesture, and adds, “El, I’m so sorry for this whole thing, I should’ve apologized immediately, but you look so freaked out anytime I go near you, and I didn’t wanna corner you like some kind of creep. You’ve always been Mike’s girl, and it was so fucking gross and sleazy for me to…”

“I’m not a possession.” Eleven interrupts, her voice hard and cold. “I don’t belong to Mike Wheeler. Michael Wheeler doesn’t own me.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Dustin assures her. With a nervous laugh, he adds, “I don’t think anyone could if they tried.”

And El’s face fills with a helpless rage that reminds Billy painfully of himself. You idiot, he thinks, watching Dustin’s face, so full of friendly sympathy. So clueless for a kid so smart. She wants to belong to someone. She wants to belong to you.

Were his feelings that obvious?

Oh, totally, Robin’s voice answers in his head, explaining to Erica on the phone. There poor Billy-boy was, heart on his sleeve, checkin’ Steve-o out like he was on the effing menu. And Steve got so flustered every time Billy walked in, he never even noticed.  

“You kissed me,” she repeats angrily.

“I’m sorry,” Dustin repeats, miserably. “I took advantage of you, El, and it took me so fucking long to apologize, but I really am so sorry.”

“I don’t remember,” El seethes, fists clenched. “You kissed me, and I don’t remember.”

“You were really drunk,” Dustin says gently. “But I promise, I won’t ever do that again, okay?”

Oh, that is the opposite of the thing Eleven wants to hear. She’s so angry – she feels like something she so desperately wants has been taken from her, and now Dustin is telling her she doesn’t even have the chance to get it back again.

“Bastard,” she hisses, eyes beginning to shine and glitter with unshed tears. On the stove, a kettle begins to whistle sharply, even though the burner it’s sitting on isn’t even lit.

Dustin begins backing away, eyes wide, and El lunges, grabbing the front of his sweater with clawed fingers and kissing him, passionate with anger and six years of love that she’s just been choking herself on.

She pulls away just as abruptly, and Dustin’s lower lip begins to bleed sluggishly. “You bit me.”

He doesn’t sound mad, just quietly shocked.

“That’s all you can say to me?” she demands, as the tears begin to slide down her face. She has made herself into a fool, and for no good reason. She told Billy this was a mistake.

“I…yes?” He’s bewildered by the combination of passion and violence, and even more bewildered by the tear. Maybe the kiss made them even now? But then why the hell is she crying? Fuck, he’s been trying not to upset her, Dustin can’t stand it when Eleven cries, but somehow, he’s managed to do it anyway.

Swiping angrily at her eyes, El darts toward the back stairwell beside the sink. Dust, feeling like something important was slipping away from him, grabs her arm, though he knows that’s the last thing he should do with El when she’s upset. That’s how you end up suddenly knowing what the ceiling feels like on your back. “What do you want me to say?” he pleads, grabbing both of her elbows. “Just tell me what you want, and I promise I’ll do it.”

LOVE ME BACK!, she wants to scream.

“Nothing,” she says dully, limbs going slack like a puppet with its strings cut. The lie crushes her. “I don’t want anything.”

“Do you just…really not like me, then?” he asks in a small voice, and the question startles her into a half turn. “Because you didn’t remember my dumb drunk kiss, but you always act like I’m a Demogorgon that’s about to…eat…you…”

Her face is a brilliant crimson, arms crossed defensively over her chest. His lower lip still stings. “Oh.”

“Don’t look at me,” she says in a mumble, shoulders hunching. She covers her eyes, tears spilling out from beneath her fingers. Chin trembling, she repeats, half-pleading, “I don’t want anything.”

Dustin swallows hard, licks his lips. He’s been less nervous presenting his actual dissertation plan. “What if I want something? Would that be okay?” He watches her chewing on her lower lip before she nods. “Can you please look at me?”

Slowly, arm trembling, she lowers her hand and stares at him, her gaze darting at him and then away, frightened and hesitant. She’s barely able to raise her voice. “...okay.”

He never had the slightest conception of the power his touch could have over her, but when his hands cup her face, all of the cupboard doors suddenly swing themselves open. His thumbs wipe at the trails of tears on her cheeks and the dishes on the shelves tremble along with her. Dustin lets her relax enough to look him straight in the eye and says, deadly serious, “Do you have any idea how fucking difficult it is, finding a girl who can measure up to you?”

Her brows pinch together.

“Because I’ve tried,” he confesses. “For twelve years, in three different states, I’ve tried to find a woman who can compete with the first girl I ever fell in love with, and it’s asking way too much of one person.”

Eleven listens, stunned, as he continues “Because that girl is the kindest person I know, and the strongest, and the bravest. She’s clever, and funny, and beautiful, and wise. She’s stubborn as a mule and she pushes anyone who’s ever loved her to be the best version of themselves. She can flip cars without breaking a sweat, and she makes a chocolate cake so delicious that after my first bite, I cried literal tears of joy.”

She’s crying again, and the bags of flour and sugar on the counter have split their seams and begin to pour their contents all over the countertops and the floor. Like Eleven’s heart is bursting, and they burst with her in sympathy.

Pressing his forehead to hers, Dustin whispers “That’s all I want. Find me your equal. I’ve tried, but every time I come home, I see you and I know it’s no use. No matter who they are, they can’t be better than an Eleven.”

“…I can’t say anything that nice,” she admits, holding his hands to her skin. “I’m-I don’t have the words…”

Karen’s tulips, half dead in their vase, are suddenly blooming in full life on the center island. Billy and Steve grin at each other.

Very quietly, Eleven says, “You carried me.” At his confused look, she continues “In the school. When we were young. You carried me. I remembered that.”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t know why, because she seems to think this is very important.

“It was the first,” she tells him. “The first time I really knew what ‘safe’ felt like. It was you. It’s always been you, too.”

Dustin laughs. “We’re a pair of perfect fuck-ups, aren’t we?”

Seriously, she asks “Are we a pair?”

“We could be. If you want.”

She considers that for a moment. “Does it mean I can have a real kiss now?”

His eyes flicker down to her lips. After fully breaking, his voice has always had an almost musical quality, but it seems especially nice to her. “They both felt pretty fucking real to me.”

The back of her neck tingles. As stubborn as he accused, El insists “More?”

Dustin glances nervously at Steve and Billy.

Steve laughs and Billy rolls his eyes. “At least go upstairs, we don’t need to watch the two of you making out.”

Billy sighs as El drags Dustin up the stairs. He’s intensely familiar with dating someone who looks innocent but turns into a fucking maniac in the sack when they’re in the right mood.

Fuck, I hope the kid has a seatbelt and a fucking helmet.

[whoopstoomanyeyes]

We’re Going Down!

Almost forgot to post this to Tumblr

The plane crash from Mateo’s point of view

Mateo was fucking tired.

It had been three days since he had slept, and then, like the genius he was, he had agreed to fly the only two other people he knew that were alive for thirteen hours to Papua New Guinea on the off chance that Dave wasn’t crazy and the man from his dream was real. Brilliant. And now, for the cherry on top of the already nightmarish trip, some asshole had parked something are the tarmac. They didn’t have time to find somewhere to work as a makeshift runway, Dave was already losing it, and Mateo couldn’t stand the idea of trying to make it through the apocalypse without him. They had to land in the water.

Mateo was trying to run through every lecture he had ever had in the Air Force. Of course they had discussed water landings when in distress, but they had never practiced it. It was a last resort, if all else fails and you can’t land, you do this. Even then, he wasn’t taught to do it in passenger planes. This was going to be a disaster. He was going to fuck it up. He was going to crash and they were all going to die and Jesus he was so tired. Shouldn’t adrenaline or some shit be kicking in right now? Instead, he felt like his brain was muddled, foggy. He took a deep breath. It was now or never. He stopped to think, what needed to happen before they took off? Cargo! If even a water bottle was loose, with enough force could do some damage to a head.

They’d also need to have their life jackets on before the hit the water, so they could immediately head for the escapes. And of course, he’d have to go over how to brace

“Okay people, time to water ditch! I hope you can swim.” He paused for a moment, hearing Dave’s dismay.

“Make sure all the cargo is stowed, anything loose is gonna go flying. Your life jackets should be under your seats.” He waited until the sounds of their shuffling ceased, this next part was important.

“When the plane starts to land, keep your heads between your knees. If the cavern is flooded, you’ll run right for the exit.” This was it. They were going down.

“Okay, here we go. Sit down and buckle up!” He took a few breaths to clear his muddled head. It didn’t help. He took the knife Linda had given him and ran it across his arm, dabbing it with hydrogen peroxide. That provides a little clarity, but even its effects had dulled. The next step made him the most nervous. Once he did this, there was no going back.

“Cutting the engines!” There was a slight jerk to the plane as the engines were cut. Immediately, several different alarms went off, reminding him just how bad of an idea this was. What the hell did he think he was doing.

“Starting to descend.”He started the gentle incline down into the water depths. He had to be careful, to steep and they go straight to the bottom of the ocean. Just outside the cockpit he could just barely hear Linda hyperventilating. Was she afraid of flying? Would this send her into a panic attack, effectively making her unable to escape? He hadn’t even thought to ask. They were closer to the water’s surface now.

“Opening emergency doors! Brace for impact!” He heard the metallic think of the emergency doors unlatching, and then the wild sound of the wind whipping around the cabin. God, please just let Linda and Dave make it through this. He watched the blue ocean grow closer, and closer and yet even closer. In just a moment, they were going to impact.

“BRACE! BRACE! BRACE!” He had done everything he could. He felt an odd sense of relief fill him, and then exhaustion. Leaning back, his eyes wandered down to planes speedometer. Fuck. They were going to fast. It was too late to slow down now. As the plane impacted the water, the force slammed his head against the metal console. With a whimper, Mateo felt darkness envelope his vision.

He woke up to the feeling of warm sand on his back. He vaguely could hear someone calling his name. As he came back to consciousness, the voice grew clearer. It was… Dave? Mateo pried his eyes open to see a very concerned Dave standing over him.

“Jesus dude, you scared me! We thought we lost you!” Mateo wiped his eyes and winced. His head ached. He remembered the plane hitting the water but after that…

“What happened?” He asked, “And why does my head hurt so bad.”

“You hit it pretty good when we crashed. Linda and I had to bust open the cockpit door to get to you.” Mateo sat up, his head spinning for a second. They pried open the door to get him out?

“You did you, for me?”

“Of course Mateo, you’re my best friend. I wasn’t just going to leave you to die. Anyway, afterwards we were picked up by this young kid in a boat, who brought us shore. You’re never gonna believe amp, but the whale is real! He’s this old guy who has this group of people who can protect us while we sleep. We made it! We can finally take a looooong rest.” Mateo laughed.

“I guess you are really some kinda dream prophet. I guess a nap does sound pretty good right now. Where’s Linda?”

“Oh, she’s up in the cabin. Poor thing basically conked out the minute we got to land. Come on, I’ll take you up there!” Dave smiled down at Mateo, reaching his hand out to help him up, but something about made Mateo feel weird. Like something wasn’t right. He shrugged it off though. He had just been in a plane crash, his nerves were bound to be fried.

“Hell yeah, man!” As Mateo reached out his hand, he really looked into Dave’s eyes for the first time, and his blood went cold. In the middle of Dave’s eyes, where pupils should be, there were little black triangles. It was too late though. As Mateo’s hand made contact with Dave’s cold pale one, he heard the roaring of an elephant in his ears, and then, he was gone.

I’ve got an idea for part two if y’all are interested!