#I don't even remember the show that well and I'm just so offended on Bubbles behalf

[joaoista]

《More than colleagues, they are my family》

❤️Charlos + mention of Arthur/Ollie 💛One-shot (+1.4k words) 🤍Fluff + family bonding time (sort of)

Oliver waited patiently inside the Ferrari motorhome. He had already gone through multiple interviews making statements here and there. He received congratulations from many important people in the world of motorsport, feeling fortunate to have so much support from those he admires. Even his father was there to celebrate with him this first great milestone in his career in the highest category of motorsport. The only thing missing was to celebrate with a well-known duo from the paddock that he considered equally important as another member of his family.

And it was with them in mind that the first figure crossed the entrance, giving him a friendly smile before approaching him.

“You did very well, mate”, Charles' words were imbued with genuine affability, as he watched the youngest in depth.

He already knew that look. Eyes narrowed, bright with emotion. It was undoubtedly...

Pride. Pride for him.

Ollie felt himself reverberating in his seat with ill-contained emotion. It was because of it that he couldn't help but jump out of his chair and rush over to Charles, wrapping his lanky arms around him in a tight hug.

“Yes, we were a great team today! One of the best!”, he exclaimed. Enthusiasm pouring through his pores.

However, his mind clicked. He quickly pulled away from Charles. A thin layer of blush sprinkled over his cheeks, embarrassed, mentally scolding himself for getting caught up in the emotion of the moment and acting impulsively accordingly.

He was just about to shout an apology when the Monegasque took him in his arms again, reciprocating the congratulatory embrace.

“Oh, come here Ollie”, the older man murmured. Oliver felt his eyes slowly blurring, feeling himself almost completely overcome by the accomplishment of the feat he had achieved tonight.

He was going to allow himself to collapse in the midst of Charles' comforting embrace, but an intrusion awaited deep down by him made an appearance, startling him and watching as he stole the second of the Leclerc brothers' breath away.

‘They're so obvious’, Bearman thought with amusement and affection.

“Carlos”, he's pretty sure he could hear the smitten sigh leave Charles' lips.

“P3, not bad, my Lord Perceval”, the Spaniard walked in their direction with a slow step. Appreciation painted all over the eldest's eyes as he focused on his mate from Monaco.

“I would be offended if you thought otherwise. The fight to see who can cut the Red Bulls' streak started last week.”

“As well as the other inside bet we have”, Leclerc was the one who ended up closing the distance between them, lightly tapping the other's shoulder for the joke. He then went on to take Sainz's hands in his own.

Well, maybe he was interrupting a scene that did not concern him.

“And look who's here, the golden boy from Maranello. Congratulations on your big debut, Ollie”, although, he dismissed that thought quickly. Of course, they would not turn his presence away no matter how enclosed they were in their bubble.

Eagerly he ran to the Spaniard. “Carlos!”

He was about to hug him. However, he remembered the problem the pilot was bringing with him, so he abruptly stopped his action. Nevertheless, Carlos gave him a nod, indicating that such a hug was welcome.

“Go ahead, Ollie. Just don't push too hard.”

Oliver hugged him with a little less intensity than he hugged Charles, but with the same enthusiasm and appreciation he showed for him. He was still grateful for the advice he provided before the race, even in a state of recovery he made sure to instruct him as best he could to get the most out of the car.

How can you not love Charles and Carlos?

“I'm still sorry to hear about your operation. Also, I'm so glad you're doing well.”

‘And that you're here with us.’

Sainz just denied. “Nothing to be sorry about, Ollie. You did amazing out there and you were able to get the most out of the car. I'm very proud of you.”

Proud of you.

Something throbbed inside Bearman's chest. His eyes misted over again.

“Of both of you. You did a great job.”

“Thank you, Carlos”, he murmured, trying to hold back tears. He gave them both his big smile that exposed his pearly teeth, typical of when he was very happy.

They accompanied the Spaniard to take a seat on the couch in the motorhome, settling in to have their own post-race chat without interruption from third parties and in the intimacy of their circle.

“You know, I would have really liked him to be here.”

Both pairs of eyes stared at him, instantly picking up on who he was referring to.

“You haven't talked to him?” Carlos asked, surprised.

“Curiously, from him was the first message I received on my cell phone congratulating me on my performance. He beat my whole family, even”, mention to them incredulously, but bubbling inside with raw emotion at the gesture.

“Well, I think it's time to give this to you...”, Charles mentioned, as he stood up to get a marbled gift bag. He handed it to him without further thought.

“What?”, Oliver's astonished intonation echoed through the room, still taking the gift in bewilderment. A maroon sweater, a box of biscuits, and a pink rose lay inside.

“Arthur sent it to you. He strictly told me to give it to you as soon as we finished our routine post-race activities. Oh, and he also said there's a surprise waiting for you at Maranello. Apparently, he stayed up late into the night working on this”, he held out his cell phone, showing him his gallery.

A picture of a Ferrari cap with the number ‘38’ stitched on the side of the visor, revealing the face of a small teddy bear woven with brown threads on the inside, was all over the screen. The sender? None other than Arthur Leclerc.

Ollie's eyes opened wide, intensifying that characteristic gleam in them. With trembling hands, he picked up Charles' phone, trying to process the situation. He swallowed in a vain attempt to undo the lump in his throat.

‘Oh, Arthur...’, he mumbled in his head, being a teary mess inside.

“Charles, I think that was only for you to see, not the boy”, Sainz catches his eye, pointing out the obvious detail. The Monegasque froze in place.

“Aïe... I'm sorry? Please pretend I didn't show you anything and act surprised when he gives you the cap”, a nervous laugh bursts from his lips, apologizing for the oversight over and over again.

But, for Oliver, it is more than clear that he will not be able to forget that fact so easily. If he felt his heart was already filled with so much affection for the people around him, it undoubtedly overflowed with love when he learned of the gift Arthur had painstakingly prepared for him, in addition to what he had made him get with his brother.

How to stop the growing infatuation for his former academy classmate if he took great pains every day to surprise and entertain him, even when he did not know the effect it has on him? An impossible mission that he has no intention of stopping.

“And I want to hug Arthur so much because of that...”, He added in a dreamy tone, forgetting for an instant that he was still in company. “No, I...! I...! Now you pretend I didn't say that about your brother, please”, he pleaded with a wail, the color of his cheeks matching the color of the Cavallino Rampante car.

“Now I'm supposed to call him ‘brother-in-law’?”, Carlos annoyed him with a clearly amused tone.

“Carlos!”

“Mmm... I think the four of us should have a dinner party, don't you, Ollie?”, his partner followed his lead, laughing softly.

“Charles!”, implored the Englishman, flushed with embarrassment.

Leclerc only let out another small laugh at Oliver's embarrassed expression. He wasn't going to lie; he was enjoying the somewhat familiar atmosphere that spread between the three of them. It was almost the same feeling witnessed being with his own family and he didn't dislike it at all. He liked it.

Now recomposed from his sultry moment of the day, he approached the red-clad couple and enclosed them both in a final embrace, feeling that last thread that held him fastened to the illusion that this race was a mere fantasy finally break and the bucket full of reality spilling over him.

He felt warm and very happy.

“It's good to have you on the team, Ollie”, Charles whispered, returning the hug. Carlos nodded at his words.

‘It's good to have you two with me.’

[First time posting a fic here jaja! Spreading the Arthur/Ollie propaganda, tho -gets hit-. I really enjoyed writing a fluffy moment between these three, so, I hope you like it! ^^💖]

[v1rtueouss1nz]

Play The Game?

Yes[] No[]

Huskerdusk if husk was still an overlord

(Pulled from my twitter, sorry for formatting)

~🕷️🎲~

•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•

Angel is very reluctant while gambling Husk to simply...help him. Do him a much needed favour, really. Husk convinced him, got close to him, comforted him...

And whispered into his ear, a rough smirk on his face that poor Angel could not see. A naive demon sitting in front of a polished bar, The Smiling Swindler's words slithering in through his friendly, caring demeanor.

"I could deal with him, you know."

Angel would look up from the drink he was drowning himself in, his eyes widening slightly in the way that they do when he's caught off guard and his facade slips. Anthony peaks through, he doesn't know it but Husk notices. It's his job to notice, to find the weak spots, to see how desperate they truly are.

"That's impossible, even if I wanted you too," Scoffs Angel. Ah, he always did resent showing weakness. He would spit it out like the silent, desperate plea the words held.

'i wish there was a way.'

There was always a path, if you had enough power.

"Val has more money, fame, and power. I'm a respected actor, and the gig pays well," Angel would defend, crossing his arms and turning away from the overlord.

A slight smile. A sharp tooth glinting in the lamp of the clean, polished bar of the hotel.

"I would challenge him to a game. His pride would never let him deny a challenge," sound confident, he will reason with the idea. He has been doing that more, Husk noticed.

"Really Husk, I don't want to leave. I am living the life! I am a respected film actor, and the money helps me keep my lavish lifestyle of cocks and coke," Angel would always use his accomplishments as a shield, hiding behind the face of a successful, sexual celebrity.

But it was just that, a face. It was all in the eyes. You can't be a gambler without being able to read the eyes.

"But are you really that respected?" His words were like tendrils, wrapping around Angel's ears, seeping into his doubts. It was always the same for the desperate.

"Look at how Valentino treats you, compared to how we treat you. We just want what's best for you, and Valentino is in the way of that," Husk's cane tapped hypnotically against the floor as he circled Angel. Like a Tiger lining up for the final strike. Ironic, knowing Husk hates cats.

Angel couldn't help but look into his eyes as Husk rounded in front of him. His cane tapped once between them, not moving an inch as Angel forgot to breathe. When did he forget to breathe?

"I don't want you risking your safety just to free me when I have no problems with my job,"

Husk would look offended at Angel's words, putting a hand to his chest, mock hurt displayed on his face and coating his words.

"Angel, are you doubting my skills? I'm an overlord for a reason! I'm the best gambler around, and I have perfectly enough power to crush that Moth if I need too,"

A friendly, guiding hand on his shoulder. Angel wouldn't flinch away, like he remembered Valentino would make him. Husk's hand was warm, it was nothing but comforting. Wait when did Angels start referring to Val as Valentino? He didn't know.

"Charlie probably wouldn't want us starting another conflict, especially with the extermination so soon."

Angel was grasping at straws, Husk knows he was. Angel knows Charlie would help with anything they needed if it would help him. Besides if she disagreed...

Well, whatever she doesn't know can't hurt her.

"We both know that's a lie. She's like a people-pleasing, spiky, piece of bubble wrap when it comes to friends," Husk chuckles, placing his elbow on the freshly wiped wood of the bar. He poured a cup of scotch, swirling it around.

He eyed the glass, glancing up at Angel to smirk at the hopeful look on his face. Such a comforting look, knowing they were always already too deep to crawl out of his grasp.

"Of course, for my help, I like to gamble for it," Angel would stiffen, as Husk set his glass down.

"It would cost nothing! If you win, I free your soul no strings attached," Husk smiled dangerously, a look that did not promote confidence in Angel, "but if I win... You sign a contract with me," Husk slid the glass across the wood, Angel grabbing it with both hands. The amber liquid looked comforting as Angel stared into it, something similar to how he felt when Husk was in his eyesight. What an easy spider to trick.

Sigh, you'd think he'd know the traps of a web better.

"Have a drink, enjoy the evening, take a good night's rest," Husk walked past his shoulder, past the corner of the bar only Husk ever needed to cross. Angel would turn to catch sight of Husk waving as he walked backwards, smiling.

"Think about it. Could the outcome really be as worse as how it is now? I'm not as bad as Valentino,"

Angel contemplated the offer, something few might argue is riskier. A definite chance to escape Val... but a slight chance to still have his freedom stolen once again.

Husk smirked, recognizing the look of gears turning in Angel's head, something the spider demon rarely did while working under Valentino.

"Good night Angel Dust, sleep well," Husk finally turned, quickening his pace as he ascended the Hotel stairs. Angel couldn't see the smirk on his face as he planned the next step, a game of poker. Because of course Angel would say yes.

Anthony would watch him leave, waiting for the overlord to be out of sight before glancing down at the amber liquid in the crystal glass. He scoffed, Husk really had to go with the most expensive option.

'i have the funds, why not splurge on things I will cherish?' he'd said.

Anthony supposed he was right. Does that mean Husk cares about him if he's willing to risk souls for his release from Valentino's torment? Angel shook his head, face reddening at the idyllic thoughts. He sighed, resting his elbow on the bar as he brought the glass to his lips

The stupid, expensive crystal that Husk just had to splurge on. Because he would cherish it. Just like Angel. He groaned, kicking himself as the rest of the bourbon draining into his throat. His hands immediately reaching for the nearest bottle of alcohol at his fingertips.

Husk smirked, watching the crumbling demeanor of Angel with a chuckle. He turned on his heel, stepping away from the wall he stood behind. His signature cane tapped against the hotel floor, out of reach of Angels ears, as Husk chuckled while turning down a hallway, a hand reaching up to dust off his shoulder in a job well done. They always fall.

Like a card tower. You just need to find the weak spots, seep into the cracks with a friendly demeanor and an ear to listen. Once they trust you, they trust your word. And once they trust your word, well, you just have to wait until they're desperate.

∆A∆A∆A∆A∆A∆A∆A∆A∆A

When they're desperate, they always play the game

∆A∆A∆A∆A∆A∆A∆A∆A∆A

[onehundredandeleventropicalfish]

Hello, I'm quite a big fan of your blog and your sandman posts. I had a little question for you. According to the comics, more than half of Dream's relationships never work out because of communication on Dream's part, right. So well do you think it's because he does not realise that some things need to be said out loud like because of dream logic where things go straight from A to B, so it would make sense he follows the same logic? Sorry if I am not making much sense.

hello, and thank you!

well, for starters, i have a feeling you're here from the adhd post, but in case you're not or other people are reading this who haven't seen it, i talked about one aspect of this already

but do you have a specific source on the communication line? i am entirely willing to believe it, but i don't have a perfect memory of every single comic and i don't remember that in particular, so i'm curious if there's further analysis to this that i missed

that said, i can absolutely analyse just dream's communication problems in general, because there's a lot in there

1) pride/ego/defensiveness. as much as dream cares about everyone, he is an extremely prideful being, and therefore easy to offend. if something strikes a nerve, he's not really the type to talk it out, his reactions tend to be more... dramatic. our extremes are cases like nada, or calliope (who he essentially locked out of the dreaming for several millenia after she blamed him for what happened with orpheus), but like. we saw how the 1889 hob scene went down. and as much as he's quick to advise anyone else that revenge is a poison, he's a big fan of taking it himself (or on behalf of others, see: not letting the madoc thing go). dream, just in general, never lets shit go, he doesn't know how to. which is gonna be A Problem in a relationship if you have to avoid stepping on his ego for the sake of your own wellbeing

2) he knows everyone. like, i think a lot about the library of dreams. the show just describes it as every book ever written (including books yet unwritten), but it's more than that. nightmare country in particular goes into this, it's a repository of every story ever told in anyone's subconscious. so yes, those are the books and compositions and other artworks that were planned but never finished - but it's also that daydream you had in the car home, something you thought idly in the shower, the book you planned in your head before falling asleep that you never intended to turn into anything real. a couple people in the fandom have already used this as a fic concept of hob writing unsent letters to dream, which will end up in the library. and sure, dream isn't thinking of all of that all the time, that would drive you insane, it's why he has the library, to organise it. but he is the dreaming, the entire place is just an extension of his mind, if it's in the library it's in his head and accessible

and like, he may not mean anything by it, he may even attempt not to look at that stuff with a partner out of respect for them (i've seen a couple fics take that path), but so much of how humans communicate is based on the fact that we can't mind read, we choose the information we give to one another, and most of those subconscious stories are private. not to dream. as soon as you think it, it's in his head. and no matter how good his intentions, that's gonna fuck with the usual rules of communication

2.5) this does feed into what you were saying - when the rules are all fucked up and dream has access to so much information about any potential partner, it's probably easy to forget they can't do the same. and yeah, his thoughts do skip around a lot, he is a dream, he may not realise how many vital communication steps he's skipping over until it's pointed out to him

3) he overthinks everything. this may seem like it's contradicting the previous points, but no they just compound into a huge bad communication bubble

there's one i think it's a tom interview, i don't know if it was about ep 11, i just remember someone posting a quote from it on a gifset with calliope, where he talks about the purposeful way dream talks, there's no ums or similar, because he's the prince of stories, he has every word and phrase ever thought or spoken or written down in his head all of the time, there's no hesitation in his phrasing. i think the phrase used was "etched in stone". while dream may not always realise certain things need saying, when it comes to the things he does choose to say, he is extremely deliberate in his word choice. there's no mistakes, he means what he says (even if he may later regret saying it)

and i think that's another piece of this, because for most people conversation is just a game of improv they've gotten really good at, they may mangle words or say things they didn't mean. and if dream takes them at their word, then we're back to problem 1 of him taking things extremely personally and never being able to let it go

(and then there's all the other reasons his relationships rarely work out, like him being extremely committed to his work, he can't be what a lot of his partners might want him to be, because he considers himself dream of the endless first and foremost and a person second)

(and his relationships are kinda the biggest representation of that inner struggle, because like. he keeps dating people despite the fact that it never works out because he doesn't want to do this alone, to the point that his mother, who didn't even know their brother had left, called him out for it. but then at the same time he literally says to destiny that the word 'life' does not describe the existence of the endless, they exist to fulfil their purpose, not to want anything for themselves. which, is wrong, but it's an extremely strong belief of his)

(so it is just a constant snowball of trying but self sabotaging)

[realmflora]

Confrontation, Poison, and Unrequited Love

Chero is goddamn tired of stupid voices in his head ruining his day. Like, very goddamn tired. So, probably despite Adi's wishes(if they knew), he temporarily lowers his soul back into the same place he fought Scaramouche and talked to Cyrille. His mental space, which has an invader running through it's veins.

Chero blinks his eyes open, feeling exhausted. Heaven above, even his soul is tired.. how is that even possible? He's slept like, three times. Within the past day. Surely this isn't healthy. "Well, nothing I ever do is actually healthy, is it?" He grumbles. "Yeah, no. I have to say, you've changed far too much for my liking."

!!!! Chero stands up in an instant, recognizing that voice that has been deeply annoying him since that hallucination. "So I was fucking right. There is someone here. Who the fuck are you?!"

"I was going to say I'm offended, but it's your annoying sister's fault that you don't remember me. I can't blame you for something that isn't in your control. I don't want your love for me to falter." A person appears in front of him, causing Chero to jump back. It's a girl, presumably. She had tan skin and blonde, tight-curled hair that was tied into two low buns. There was a flower in her hair- it was a white rose. There were two things that Chero's eyes darted to first. One, the massive gaping hole on the left side of her chest where her heart should've been. You could see the flesh and the bone that was so brutally picked and ripped apart. Next, was the wound on her left eye. It looked like a gunshot wound to the face, the skin having torn apart and splatted all over the rest of her face. You could literally see her skull.

"...Heavens, the fuck happened to you? You look like you've been through ten Timeflower Wars and back.." Chero says, straightening uncertainly. He didn't like the vibes he got from this person. This kid, even. She looked about 10 or 11 years old..

"You happened, silly!" The girl laughs, listening to Chero's observations and nervousmess with a fond smile. Years and years later, he's still the same nervous boy she loves. Even if he's more murdery and whatnot, he was still the same underneath! "Like I said, you don't remember because of your pesky sibling. But I'm here now, and I'm going to help you!"

Chero takes an involuntary step back. Since this was his mindspace, he could hear the thoughts she was having too. Or at least, the overall general aura of them. "..You love me? Why? And even so, I've never felt romantic attraction a day in my life. I would've remembered you if I actually loved you. Strong emotions like that still come through even through memory blockage."

"You do love me!" The girls voice suddenly becomes possesive. Demanding. Chero's eyebrow raises. "You said it yourself when you killed me! You stole my heart, literally and metaphorically! We're destined to be together forever, don't you see?!"

She suddenly teleports forward and grabs two of Chero's four hands. Chero hisses and pulls his hands away. Based on the way the air shimmered, she must be a ghost, he realizes. But why would one of his victims love him? It made no sense.

"It's because I knew you before you were experimented on." The girl says, answering his thoughts, which makes him even more at unease. "I was your first victim, even. I know you from the realm we were both so ungratefully sacrificed to, and it was us versus every other sickly child that was stuck with us. I've killed for you time and time again, and you loved me. You did. You just don't remember!" "Girl, I'm sorry to burst your desperate bubble, but if you knew me from when I was the age 7 to 10, I definitely didn't love you romantically." Chero keeps a good distance away from her. "Specifically when I was 7 or 8. I was really good at masking and faking my emotions, so whatever I showed towards you was most likely just to.. make you happy." Eugh. Deja vu.. Chero stares at the ground for a good moment, eye widening slowly. "The heart I saw earlier... that was yours." He stares at her. "The feeling of sickness I get when I comfort people. That comes from you. You..." He takes another step back. "What did you do to me?"

"I loved you all I could, and you loved me back." The girl says. "We're destined to be together. You took my heart, and if you won't take mine, I'll simply take you myself. All of you." Without any warning, Chero is picked up by some unknown force and is thrown against a back wall. "SHIT-" Chero positions himself to get up, but before he can, several bright green chains emerge from the wall and tie him in place. Which shouldn't even be fucking possible, it's his mental space! Who the fuck is this girl to think she has the right to do this and spout literal bullshit??? "Your sister and the heaven overlord are coming to check on you, my dear bunny." The girl stares up at him with an affectionate, but poisonous smile. "I'll take over for you until you've come to your senses and you can remember everything, okay? I'm sure no one will notice the difference." ?!- "What the fuck do you-" Chero can barely get a word out before something loops in his brain. Your sister. But- Sakura's-

"Bye-bye, my love!" The girl blows him a kiss before disappearing, causing the chains around Chero. He struggles against them, finally remembering the girls name so that he could call out to her in vain. "ANEMONE!"

------

Angelic possession is a very long and annoying process, and it takes a long, long time to actually pull it off- especially if you're only a mere angel compared to a celestial. But, Chero's soul was broken and hollow enough that Anemone could take over for him. She'll fix everything. She'll relieve him of his pains, just for him.

And then, finally,

He will love her.

[prousterinhernest]

Oh god, I need to talk about that Powerpuff Girls script

So, do I ever actually post here? No. Has a part of my childhood been re-opened, stepped on repeatedly and run over with a car? Yep. So to spare my poor mother from the many rants about this script and her repressed memories of a young me just watching the show on repeat, I’m here to talk about it from a script perspective.

I’m so glad this is the main thing I use my degree for. To spare us all, I’m shoving this in parts because I’m so glad they shoved this script into a five act structure to make this easier for me.

So let’s start this off with the ten minute teaser at the beginning. Apparently, this all starts in 2003 with a seven-year-old Blossom, Buttercup and Bubbles. They’re flying through the sky, and okay, I’ll give them some nostalgia factor for this. However, I’m saying this now - this reads like an animation script. This is live-action, and instead they’re really using the description of “cotton candy clouds”? Please, stick to whether you want it to be live-action or animation. Please.

Also, their dresses are described as impractical and it’s like... Guys. You’re already starting to describe the dresses as impractical for seven-year-olds. You know what else is impractical? Seven-year-olds destined to fight crime. 

Blossom is described as the leader, go-getter and goody-goody. Now, from what I remember - yeah that does describe Blossom. I’m really coming from a place of a person who’s memories of the show are only kinda coming back after 20 years so, if I get anything wrong then someone - please tell me.

Buttercup’s the scrappy, scowling tomboy - not even described by the narrator with that one. Instead, the narrator is just like she’s the tough one and a “hard-ass” and I wouldn’t describe a seven-year-old as a hard-ass. 

Then Bubbles. Poor, sweet innocent Bubbles, who always was my favourite as a child and what have they done to you. She was the sweet and cheerful one, most of the time - according to the narrator. And you know, I’ll accept the dialogue for the seven-year-old Bubbles saying woot. It was 2003, but you know, woot is not a word I’ve heard in ages. I know I’m fixating, but then she immediately after this mentions how the Professor mentions efficacy and you know what, I don’t think a seven-year-old would say the word efficacy and I just have a lot of issues with Bubbles dialogue in this script and this is just the start.

So they’re flying, they’re fighting a giant three-headed-pegasus monster but in my head, I’m just seeing that weird giant three-headed-dragon thing from My Little Pony and I don’t know why but we don’t see it much because you just know the writers were only thinking about how the producers will react to this, I see that “(don’t worry)” in the script and I know they’re just worrying the producers about the budget. 

Which is why we get a short-ass fight and then immediately after we get a flashback to 1996. To when they were created. Note: They weren’t born, they were created to be the age of 7 in 1996 and yet they’re still that age in 2003. Am I being pedantic? Yes. Is that bothering me a lot? Oh god yes.

Also Mojo Jojo is two people and just make him a monkey you cowards. I know you managed to get Gorilla Grodd in The Flash, so just do it. Instead, we’ve got Dr Joseph Mondel, who’s Utonium’s science partner. He’s there when they’re born and supposedly he and... Drake, are close. 

“Couldn’t have done this without you Mojo,” you are a liar Professor. You are not the man I remember you to be good sir. 

Then Professor Utonium gets his happy life, also with a hot girlfriend - why did you date Sara Bellum? I recall her being married to her work? Heaven forbid we have a single father being a good figure for his children. Right, CW? I’m so glad that we got Sara Bellum being reduced to becoming just Drake Utonium’s girlfriend (for now).

Next we’ve got them saving a bank from Fuzzy Lumpkins, and you know what? We don’t need this scene. I only hear the narrator and you should not be relying so much on the narrator because has no one told you show don’t tell? Because I’m pretty sure if I relied on a narrator for a show like this, my lecturers would have gutted me like a fish.

Mojo, who is still tragically not a monkey, is apparently sick with envy. He wanted to be like Elon Musk, and I say this again, he wanted to be like Elon Musk and how dare you insult Mojo Jojo in this way. But yeah, he was forgotten by Utonium once Utonium went famous and his son is now an obsessive Blossom fanboy. I wish I was joking. But this is no Jojo-joke. (I’ll show myself out, don’t worry).

Mojo has enough power to hold a rally, and say that Utonium stole his work and that the girls are dangerous and you know, as a concept? I’d be okay with that. I too would be worried about children with superpowers. Hell, I was a dick as a child. If I had powers? Damn son, I’d be the worst. 

But you know, he wasn’t their only enemy. They also had... puberty. God, I wish this was a joke. I really wish it was. 

Blossom, at age 17, despite how she should probably be 24 if she and her sisters were born at the age of 7 in 1996 - Yes, that’s my issue - is studying for SATs and they made it so Buttercup is cheating on her girlfriend. Thanks guys. Way to ruin Buttercup. Then we have Bubbles. Bubbles who is hungover, and forced flamingos in the zoo to drink Hypnotiq. 

I stand by my previous statement: Bubbles what have they done to you?

Also, despite Blossom being the leader and the apparent moral high-ground for the kids she doesn’t seem to be as goody-goody as she was described earlier on. I’d have thought she’d be against her siblings who are both forcing flamingos to drink and cheating on girlfriends - but no, she’s super chill with them. 

Added bonus: Buttercup doesn’t want to wear a dress because it’s compulsive heterosexuality. So, bad news everyone - dresses are completely heterosexual now. 

They go to fight Swampy, and Bubbles is literally treating everything like a TV-show and Drake has clearly been a horrible influence and Sara Bellum calls him out for it. She’s then classed as not being a member of the family, and dick move Drake. You had a good stepmother figure character but of course, she breaks up with him. (After nine years and being exclusive for seven. I... I can’t with Drake).

Next up giant squid robot appears while they fight Swampy. You know, despite there being lots of protestors, surely someone would have noticed by now that there’s only Mojo piloting that giant squid that will reek more damage than these teenagers? Right...? 

Nope, not so. Instead, there’s Blossom picking a fight with Anti-Powerpuff Protestors and Bubbles fighting Swampy, while Blossom is dealing with the giant squid robot being controlled by Mojo. Jojo’s co-piloting it and all I can think is, this guy literally has a Blossom action figure in his hand. This isn’t a crush, he’s literally obsessed. Giant squid robot destroys a building, Blossom tries to save people, ends up accidentally killing Mojo in front of his son.

On the plus side, Mojo had a monkey lab-rat partner but having a talking monkey was too real? God, I hate this.

But yeah, the Powerpuff Girls are now controversial despite the fact they didn’t kill Mojo. I mean, Blossom did accidentally, but she then got PTSD and ran away. Bubbles and Buttercup call out the protestors and the press outside their house and I just want to end this with: Just let Buttercup say Fuck.

...

That’s just the teaser. I’m really sorry everyone that is just the teaser and for the sake of it I’m only focusing on the script. I don’t wanna focus on the casting yet because you know? Imagining Turk as Professor Utonium is just pain.

I’m just gonna leave this one here and I’ll talk about the trainwreck that is Act I in a little while because really. Really. 

[lovethisletters]

Poly MC! hc for the: Demon Brothers!

This is my first time writing anything about poly relationships! So I'm a bit nervous! I took the time to do a bit of research about the subject...however I still have a lot to learn; if you find anything that might be offensive please let me know! Just know I didn't do it with any ill intentions and I'll make sure to correct my mistakes!

Also I didn't knew if you refered to a poly MC who is in a relationship with all of the brothers or how each individual brother would react to MC coming out as poly to them and later starting a poly relationship and how they behave in said relationship...so I did the latter bc I found it to be a bit more easy to write and the first option would have been way too long and I was worried it might come off as boring because of it :c (but maybe I'll try to edit it and then upload it...some day...idk)

so...here it is!

Keys: MC = your main character name

Summary: MC comes out as poly to the Demon Brothers and how they behave in a poly relationship!

Additional notes: MC is gender neutral!

TW: small mentions or implications of jealous/possessive behavior (they're very minimal, but still...just in case)

▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️

Lucifer

Lucifer is probably the one you're the most nervous to talk to.

But when you finally find the courage to do so it goes...to put it mildly, a bit... weird.

He stares blankly at you like you just said to him that water is a liquid or something, he's not very...responsive.

His reaction might come off as rude, considering you spend all this time trying to figure out the "best" way to come out and talk about the possibility of starting a poly relationship.

But the reason why he's not talking much is because he's trying to avoid saying anything he might regret later, you see... he's trying to process his own feelings towards the matter.

Lucifer is someone who has lived for a long, looooooong time, so it's more likely than not that he's already experienced being in a poly relationship.

thing is...such relationship was more experimentation rather than something serious.

And now he has you...someone for who he'll be willing to die for...

He won't say it but deep down he feels like his pride has been bruised.

He just doesn't want to "share" you, you're his and his alone!

But when he looks up at you, and see just how nervous you are, waiting patiently for any kind of reaction from him.

He realizes he's thinking of you as an object and not a person and mentally kicks himself in the face for it.

Lucifer reaches for your hand and offers you a small smile.

After a long conversation where you two express your own desires and worries, you two agree and decide to give it a try.

At first... I'm not gonna lie...it would be quite... difficult...

The man is possessive and struggles to see you giving any kind of affection to any of his brothers.

However I think he genuinely wants this to work, he wants to see you happy and knows that just because you also love his brothers doesn't mean you love him any less.

So he'll sit down and talk to you whenever he feels jealous, he knows communication is key and it honestly makes him feel a bit better.

With time Lucifer comes to accept it; He loves you and he loves his brothers and it makes him happy that they all can share such bond with you.

Mammon

I think he's the one who'll have a harder time adapting to a poly relationship.

I'll even go as far to say Lucifer's jealousy pales in comparison to Mammon's and I think this is due to his low self-esteem.

He won't accept it but he's jealous af when he sees you "getting cozy" with any of his brothers.

He'll even interrupt the moment by placing himself in the middle of whoever you were getting close to or think about some lame excuse to take you away.

This makes things more difficult and tense for everyone, so if Mammon continues his shenanigans expect a LOT more arguing from the brothers...(yes...more than normal...)

You'll have to sit him down and talk to him about his insecurities.

The first times he won't be very open with you, I think he might even get a bit angry if you even imply he's jealous and act all offended and walk out of the room.

Surprisingly the one who makes him understand how toxic he's being and how much this affects you is Asmo!

He'll have a serious talk with him, and just the fact of seeing his often bubbly and cheerful young bro being all serious is enough for Mammon to realize that what he's been doing and how he's been acting hurts you and his brothers.

He'll apologize...the Mammon way...

But ultimately he now makes an effort to respect whenever you're close to one of his brothers.

Just like Lucifer. Mammon will come to accept you love him and his brothers all the same.

He'll sometimes even suggest places you all can go together for a date.

Please, be patient with the avatar of greed with time he will come to accept that love exist in more than one way or form.

Leviathan

Surprisingly, unlike his older brothers, your favorite shut-in-otaku has an easier time adapting to a poly relationship.

Easier, however does not mean problems are inexistent...

He has a low self-esteem and sometimes might get the feeling that you're ""picking favorites""

However he won't tell you anything about it, and he'll just try to pretend like nothing is wrong.

Fortunately for you, Levi is quite easy to read so you immediately notice whenever he's feeling sad.

But all you have to do is have a little gaming session with him, and as the two of you "game" the night away he'll eventually open up to you about whatever is bothering him.

All it takes is a little reassurance and saying "I love you" to the avatar of envy from time to time and he'll be all good with you showing affection to the rest of his brothers.

Satan

Uhhhh...this is a tricky one...

You see...Satan is probably the second brother you came out to and perhaps you didn't even realized that you did because it just happened so natural.

The two of you were talking and it just slipped out of your mouth and he was like "hahaha, right?" And continued the conversation as normal.

He genuinely doesn't care, (don't get me wrong I don't mean that in a bad way) but all he knows is that he loves you and he wants you to be happy, and if expanding the love that the two of you have to his brothers makes you happy, then so be it!

However... remember I said this was tricky?

Satan has no issue with you being affectionate with his brothers...all of them except for Lucifer...

When he sees you getting close to Lucifer he won't say anything, he won't make a scene or a passive-agressive remark, he'll just excuse himself and exit the room. (Neither he will confront you about it later when the two of you are alone)He won't say anything at all; he'll just stay silent and pretend like nothing is wrong.

However you'll be able to notice Satan's true feelings whenever Lucifer has a small present or gesture with you.

Oh? Lucifer gifted you a $300,000 coat? Well, Satan will give you another coat but this one is $600,000.

Lucifer treated you to dinner at ristorante six? Well, darling... guess what? Satan will reserve the entire building just for you!

At some point he will notice how bad this makes you feel, since he's turning a relationship into a competition and that's no good...

He'll eventually take a step back and realize how childish he's being, how his behavior hurts your feelings and might have even made you feel guilty or responsible for his beef with his older brother.

Before you even decide to talk to him about it, he already knows what you're trying to say, so he'll be the one to sit you down and apologize for his wrongdoings.

You're someone who he values dearly and all that he wants is for you to be happy, so he'll be willing to make the effort to get along or at least be a little more tolerant of Lucifer.

There might be times where they still fight and stop talking to each other for long periods of time, but the two of them will take the time to let you know that this has nothing to do with you and that there's no reason for you tu feel guilty.

Because if there's something in wich both, the avatar of pride and wrath agree in... Is in how much they love you.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus (definitely) was the first one to know about you being polyamorous.

He probably knew before you even said anything, let's be honest here...

He's probably the one who you're more comfortable talking about it.

The brothers accept you, yes...but Asmo understands you!

He knows that the world can be quite cruel to people who love differently to what our society stablish as "normal".

Whenever he expressed his liking for more than one person he was shamed or labeled as someone promiscuous who'll never be deserving of "true" love.

It happened in the celestial realm, in the human realm, and even sometimes here in the devildom.

Angels where expected to only focus in the lord and nothing else, some humans are close minded and shame whoever is different from them, and demon's often confuse love with obsession and get easily tangled up in possessive behavior, often viewing their partners as objects rather than individuals with their own goals and desires. (his brothers are the perfect example of that)

So he just knows how difficult it might have been for you to find acceptance.

So he gives it to you; acceptance, reassurance, however many times you need to.

He'll be the one to encourage you to talk with his brothers, he'll be there to support you if you ever feel nervous, and he'll be the one to call his brothers out on their bs whenever they start to show any signs of toxic behavior.

He knows in all relationships communication and trust in your partners is key to a successful relationship, so he reminds this to everyone and even goes as far as to make plans where everyone feels included.

Overall the avatar of lust is the voice of reason in this relationship, because he knows better than anyone else that love is something that can't and should never be limited by what others believe or expect "true love" should look like.

Beelzebub

You weren't sure how Beel would react once you told him.

But still you were pleasantly surprised by Beel's reaction!

He was so accepting from the beginning and even thanked you for trusting him enough to share this with him.

He's happy that you want him to form part of this relationship.

He knows his brothers love you as much as he does and that you love them back, so he sees this as the perfect option for everyone.

He even thinks this relationship has brought everyone closer together.

Over all the avatar of gluttony is more than happy to be with you and share your affection with people he holds equally as dearly.

Belphegor

Belphie, much like Lucifer struggles to understand why would you want such a thing?

Is his love not enough for you?

It takes little more time for him to understand you, and learn that love doesn't just limits to one person.

He can be a bit insensitive some times, so he might accidentally say something hurtful to you about it.

And that's when Asmo has to intervene...

He'll have a talk with his younger brother and make him realize that there's more than one form of love and how his words might have hurt you.

He'll apologize...(much like Mammon) in his own way...

After thinking about it for a while, he realizes he's happy whenever you show affection to Beel, and wonders if it would be the same with the rest of his brothers.

Slowly but surely, Belphie it's more open to this new relationship.

There'll be times where he might try to monopolize your love, but he'll stop once you, Beel or Asmo call him out on it.

His favorite thing of this new relationship is whenever you spend time with him and Beel.

Please be patient with the avatar of sloth.

▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️

If you find any grammatical errors let me know! I'm trying to improve my english and that would help me so so much!

I will forever thank you if you go check out my other profile: @aileysmirnov  where I post things about my OC: edits, one-shots, imagines, art, etc. If you like Greek mythology and the bat family maybe you would get to be as fond of her as much as I am!

Anyway, thank you for reading!

[boldlyvoid]

Intro to Criminal Minds: Why They Did It

Criminal Minds x MINDHUNTER AU

Spencer Reid x Margaret Carr (OC)

Part 1: Ed Kemper.

Summary: Spencer is teaching a 7-week seminar on the most interesting criminal cases, explaining their actions to understand why they took place. Only, not everyone in the audience is a student.

warnings: graphic details of a real rape and murder case, like every trigger in the book, applies to this fic so read with caution (if you watch either show you're used to it, however), it's all real and did actually happen and I don't support any of it. strangers to lovers, mutual pining, flirting, fluff, eventual smut, idiots in love, OC is Wendy Carr's daughter, her bio father is Jason Gideon

word count: 3.9K

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't having fun teaching.

He started with guest speaking, moving to special seminars a few times a year. But he wanted something more, settling for a 7-week criminal justice elective of his choosing.

Intro to Criminal Minds: why they did it. Giving Spencer an excuse to share the most intimate facts about serial offenders in a setting where no one could tell him to shut up.

14 students total signed up for the two-hour Seminar, taking place every Thursday at 11 am from September until Halloween. Over the 7 weeks, he would explain the fascinating insights of the most successful killers in the United States. Only asking that his students write about a prolific crime they find interesting by the end of term, for their full grade.

All he wanted was to read about obscure killers from around the world, from the perspective of aspiring profilers.

The first Thursday, he came prepared with his coffee a half hour before the class. He wanted to write the main points on the whiteboard in advance, nice and neatly.

To his surprise, a student was already there waiting for him. "Oh, hello,” he smiled softly.

She was sitting with a book in her hands, she pushed her glasses up her nose to look at him as he walked in. She was older than his typical student, around 35. Probably finishing up a degree or adding something to what she already had.

"Hi," she smiled at him. “Sorry, I’m early, I was visiting my mom at Quantico earlier.” She explained. "I'm not a teacher's pet or anything. Promise, I’m not even a student.”

It made him laugh slightly, correcting him like she read his mind. "It's okay, I'm Doctor Reid," he introduced himself softly.

“Margaret Carr, Peggy is also fine.”

"Pleasure to meet you," he said quickly before focusing his attention on the whiteboard.

He could feel her eyes on him the whole time he wrote, not wanting to turn around and catch her. "That's so interesting," he heard her mumble under her breath.

"Hmm?" He turned around.

"It's just that, everyday occurrences that never phase the regular person somehow cause psychopaths to kill," she read the board back to him.

"I was reading a study a while back about how psycho killers medulla oblongata is approximately 19% smaller than the average human’s. Based on the way they're nurtured as children affects if they grow up to kill. The ones that don't often end up in law enforcement and other positions of power where their psychopathic tendencies can come to play."

He was taken aback for a moment. He had never experienced a student who was like him before. Someone who just pulled facts into conversations like it was nothing.

"I read that as well," he smiled. "It is fascinating. The smallest amount of bullying and abuse from a mother or disappearance of a father figure can set them off."

"Or, on the other hand, there are people like Ted Bundy," she added. "He was well-loved and taken care of, but it went to his head. His god complex and affinity for lying led him to be incredibly charismatic and enabled his killing."

"You're very educated on this already; are you just interested in hearing me speak today?" He asked, not wanting her to leave, finding it interesting that she was there.

"Oh," she blushed. "I was going to talk to you more about it after the seminar actually."

“Okay, I’ll be waiting for you,” he felt a little giddy at the prospect.

"Thanks," she laughed. "Seriously though, I'm a big fan of your teaching style, I saw a few of your classes when my dad was teaching at the academy in 2005. It's a lot easier to remember facts if the lecturer genuinely loves what they're talking about."

"You're going to like this Seminar then. It’s basically just a way for me to get paid while unloading all the random facts I have,” he warned her with a smile.

"I know." She smiled back at him.

The rest of his students filed in slowly. By 11 am, 14 faces were staring back at him.

"Hello," he waved awkwardly. "I'm dr. Spencer Reid. For the last 12 years, I've worked with the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit. Catching serial offenders across the country."

He took a deep breath, letting the nerves find their way out of him. "I've been asked time and time again who my favourite serial killer is, which is a peculiar way to phrase the question. It feels morally wrong to have a favourite in the way people do with baseball players.

"I am, however, fascinated with several serial offenders' reasoning and explanation for why they did what they did. Every single killer is different, but it all comes back to 1 thing. Do you know what that is?"

They all shook their heads. “What is your relationship with your parents like?" He asked. 

Everyone in the room reacted; some students sighed, some rolled their eyes as they recalled their parents and childhoods to memory.

"When a person decides to kill, it's often never in the moment. It's in childhood. The majority of serial offender's stories start the same; their mother didn't love them, their father left. Someone at home abused them or put them down repeatedly."

"Thus, causing a hatred so primal to bubble. No matter how hard they try and fight it, the bubble always bursts. They go from fantasizing to killing in retaliation for their abuse, taking the anger out in stages."

He referred to the board. "Every killer has a stressor and a trigger—something that causes the urge to bubble and the event that causes the bubble to rupture.”

"Edmund Kemper is a fascinating example of this. He grew up with a family for the first few years of his life before his father fully abandoned them. His mother handled the situation by turning her anger onto her son; it was his fault his father left, he looked just like him, Ed was just another useless man who would never amount to anything," he emphasized the words. Hoping the class sees the effects words have on children.

"He started by cutting up dolls, stealing his sister's barbies and cutting their heads off. In his mind, he was getting out his anger and hatred for how his mother saw him. She hated men, causing him to mature with a warped idea of what women are truly like."

"His attraction to killing worsened his mother's hatred; she could tell something was wrong with him, that he didn't react to everyday situations the way he should. By the time he was ten, she was locking him in the basement for days on end, telling him he was a monster and her biggest regret."

"The change in her rage amplified his own. He hated hearing her speak. He hated the way she walked around, thinking she was better than him. That just because she was a mother and a working woman, she deserved respect and submissive’s. All he could see was a woman with a big head who needed to be humbled. This is the moment when the psychotic side of his brain blended his hatred of his mother with how good it felt to kill."

"Is that why he, you know?" Peggy cut in, running her finger along her neck as she pretended to cut her head off.

He pressed his lips together in an awkward smile, nodding. "His signature, as it's called, was decapitation. But more specifically necrophiling the severed head of his victims."

The whole class let out a disgusted noise, Peggy and Spencer making eye contact while they shrugged, it wasn't news to them.

"At age ten, he moved from barbies to cats and dogs, never leaving them around for his mother to see. While he hated her, he was also absolutely terrified of her. Breading a special type of killer. When you think of school shooters or preferential predators, what do they have in common?" He asked.

He pointed at a student in the back. "They have a specific type of victim they’re after?"

"Exactly. Most serial offenders want to go after the cause of their pain or attraction. However, Ed wasn't able to kill the source of his rage for a long time. His mother mentally abused him so intensely that he believed she was in control of him and that her opinion of him mattered. He saw her as his God, he loved her, but he also knew that he disappointed her.

"He ran away soon after to find his father. Travelling to California, only to be told he was unwanted there as well. It wasn't just his mother that his father was escaping; it was the fundamental aspect of family that he didn't want. Ed defiantly didn't want to go back to his mother after that, so he moved in with his paternal grandparents."

He kept catching the looks on Peggy's face. She knew the story already, waiting patiently to hear the words he chose to make the horrific acts seem a little more conversational.

"His grandmother was exactly like his mother. If I had to guess, his father most likely had a distaste for his own mother and thus divorced Ed's mom. Only he never grew up to be a killer, just an absent father—his absence doing to Ed what never happened to him."

"Ed killed his grandparents when he was 15. Telling the police and his therapists that they had beaten him constantly, they refused to feed him and called him names. He said he snapped from the trauma; it was self-defence."

Peggy laughed to herself, making him smile softly. "Sending him to a mental hospital instead of a juvenile facility was the worst thing they could've done for him," Spencer added.

"Why?" A student asked.

"Ed is a psychopath." He reminded them. "He doesn't feel empathy the way we do. You can admit that you feel bad for him, yes? If you understand why he killed people, it doesn't make you sick, like him, it makes you human. You see a hurt person hurting others; Ed Kemper sees himself as a new sort of God, choosing who dies, how and when."

"He was brilliant, having the exact IQ as I do," just a humblebrag, "the staff trusted him. He looked like an innocent boy, smart enough to take matters into his own hands for the betterment of his life. They gave him computer privileges, they let him work the front desk and file patient information. Giving him all the resources to learn about who he was inside and how to get away with it perfectly."

"Damn," another kid added. "When did he get out?"

"At 21.” He answered the student quickly. “Ed was interviewed by my mentor Jason Gideon, in the 70s. Where he explained that being locked up during his sexual prime, as well as the access to information, is what truly set him off more than his mother.

"He moved back in with her and his sister when he came out of the institution, immediately returning to the constant ridicule. He went from being told all the time that he was a smart and charming young man, capable of rehabilitation to a useless, no-good son, who would have been better off collecting in a condom or running down her leg."

The whole class laughed, shocked at his repetition of Ed's mother's words.

"He got his licence when he was released. And remember, this was prime time for hitchhiking in California; everyone and their mother walked the roads with a thumb in the air. It was the birth of free love and recreational marijuana usage. It was also the best hunting ground for a learning serial killer."

"He was able to pick women up, but like I said, missing his sexual prime while in an institution made him almost impotent. He didn't know how to speak to women; he had to create a fantasy in his mind every time, one that involved killing, before he could look at a woman."

"How did he get them in his car then?" A voice asked from the back.

"He was 6'9, 300lbs; he looked like a big teddy bear. And his mother was the local college administrative assistant, so the whole town knew him anyway. If Ed offered to give them a ride, it wouldn't be that bad, right?" Peggy turned around to face the class as she explained for Spencer, who just shook his head.

"He only wanted to rape the victims, originally," Spencer added. "But he couldn't. There was no release of the tension. The bubble that had been growing inside him was at its breaking point; he needed to just do it. Get it over with and move on."

"He killed 6 women in succession after that. Gaining the name "The Co-Ed Killer," well before anyone even suspected Ed Kemper," Spencer took a sip of coffee, feeling his throat start to dry as they reached the insane part.

"He was overly friendly with the cops; he wanted to get his record expunged and join the force.” Spencer finally continued. “Being told, "don't worry about your record, worry about your weight.""

"Most killers enjoy wearing a uniform for the power and talking to the police about their cases, in the hopes of gauging how smart they really are—taking pride in the fact that they are getting away with it for so long."

"He watched all the cop shows, and he read all the books. He knew that in order to get away with it, he had to do it where no one could trace it back to him. He knew he had to keep his cool and avoid looking obsessed with the case, but just curious enough to gain insight into how they thought he was doing it. It went on for years, and they had absolutely zero leads, finding headless bodies every few months before they finally received a call." He left them hanging, walking over to his sheet of paper and pretending to read it while they anticipated the catch.

"Ed always knew that he wanted to kill his mother. He just never knew when,” Spencer teased the story along. Noticing as the students fidgeted in their seats as they wondered what happened next.

“In his interview with Gideon, Ed said that he knew she would die 7 days before he killed her. He walked into her room that night to find her reading, with the audacity to ask if he wanted to come in and chat all night. Teasing him for the way he rambled to her. It was the last time she ever did that."

"It's hard to imagine his signature with the fact his second last victim was his mother," Peggy added, cringing at the thought.

"Wait," another student interjected. "Who was his last kill then if he only really wanted to kill her?"

"Remember how I said he lacked empathy?" Spencer asked. "He loved his mother in the same way a prisoner can end up loving their captor."

Peggy nods at the comparison, looking like she's never thought of it that way before, then smiling at him.

"You grow a bond through the trauma and when the only thing you've ever known is violence and hate, you don't know what to do when that's gone, it's hard to cope."

"He said he killed his mother so that she never had to know what he did. She'd never have to sit at his court hearings or be able to tell the media that she always knew he was a killer."

"His last kill was his mother's best friend," He finally answered the question.

"He didn't want his mother to be even more disappointed in him, but he also didn't want his mother's best friend to find her like that and be upset. So the obvious answer to him was to kill her too."

"What the fuck?" He heard a couple of kids say under their breath.

"Yeah," he agreed with an almost chuckle. "This is what I mean by their answers are fascinating. It makes so much sense to them; clearly, if I kill my mother, her friend will be upset, so the best answer would be to put her out of her misery as well. He sees them as objects, like a matching set. One would lose value without the other."

Everyone was silent then. The students took in all the information they had just received, staring up at him with a look of disgust mixed with wonder.

"Any questions?"

Peggy raised her hand for a change; he pointed towards her in approval. "You missed the part where he specifically took the heads from the three women before his mother and brought them back home with him. He buried them in the yard outside her bedroom window, making sure they were always looking up to her."

Spencer was amazed that she knew the details. "Yes, I guess I did."

"I always found that part particularly interesting in this case," Peggy added. "Her opinion mattered so much to him. He knew how much she loved her co-ed's and how they looked up to her so much. They'd be exactly like her. He felt trapped in a town of women who were exactly like his nightmare, and his response was to make them physically look up to her for the rest of her life."

"Exactly." Spencer smiled. "understanding how he sees the situation and how the events played out in his mind is the key in figuring out who he is."

"If you were on the case in '72 when the first victims were discovered, how would you have handled it, Dr. Reid?" A male student in the back asked in the silence between answers, taking his shot before Peggy and Spencer went any further in their discussion.

“That's a hard thing to answer, connecting evidence back then was a lot harder than it is today, if it wasn’t for men like Ed there wouldn’t really be this many answers,” Spencer said honestly.

Another student put her hand up, “what’s the worst thing he did in your opinion?”

That racked his brain, there was a handful of horrific things he did that were particularly horrific, “probably his mother's entire murder.”

“What did he do?”

Before Spencer could answer he saw Peggy open her mouth and start explaining. “He not only cut off her head and fucked her neck, but he also took her vocal cords out and shoved them down the garbage disposal. And before he called the cops, he cleaned everything up and made her look presentable because he said his mother wouldn’t want guests to see the mess.”

The class all cringed, sinking into their seats with disgust. But that didn’t stop Peggy from explaining it all further.

“He used to go to a bar all the cops went to and he would talk about his case. They would always one-up themselves and say they were close which gave him this false idea that they were on his tail and they’d find his mother soon. But when they didn’t, he called it in from a payphone and said he’d come over and explain it all. And boy did he ever, the cops said he wouldn’t shut up. And then when they put him in the cop car finally, a woman walked past him and he threw up.”

Spencer watched her with awe, the way she could call information to memory like that was beautiful. He listened to her like he’s never heard a fact before, she was so intriguing.

“Thank you for the detail,” he teased her lightly. “Sometimes I get so caught up that the really gross parts get swept aside.”

The class smiled at him, he had gained their trust and attention within only 1 hour of class.

“I know you said you don’t have a favourite,” another student asked from the back. “I agree it’s weird, but who is the one you gravitate towards the most?”

“I’ve met hundreds of serial killers, I’ve read about thousands,” he explained. “I think Ed Kemper is the one I gravitate the most around because he was so willing and open to explaining why he is the way he is. Going as far as to say that the only way they could keep women safe is to give him a lobotomy. He didn’t believe there was any correcting to be done, only removal of the evil within him.”

He heard slight mumbles as everyone took in what he said. “Does anyone here have a killer or a case that interested them in learning more, or just introduced you to the chase of justice?”

Peggy put her hand up, “I personally think BTK is the scariest, most tactical, and just downright evil man to ever exist. He scares me to no end but he’s so interesting to learn about.”

“Ahh,” Spencer agreed. “Too bad you won't be here for week 3. But with that I think I’ll end the class, next week we’ll be discussing the difference between Ted Bundy and Richard Speck.” He nodded lightly, watching the majority of them close their books and had on out.

“I really enjoyed the class,” she said softly. Holding her purse in one hand, a collection of files in the other.

Spencer turned to look at her then, smiling right back. “It was a pleasure to teach alongside you.”

“What do you mean?” She teased, “it’s not like my mom and dad were the ones who did all the interviews."

“Carr,” he repeats her last name. The gears turning in his mind as he brings all the information forth.

“Your mother is Wendy Carr, she was recruited after the BTK case with Bill Tench, she’s who was behind that study you mentioned.”

“I know,” she smiled.

“Who’s your father?”

“Guess,” she looked at him with an unimpressed look on her face, pushing her glasses up slightly.

“You’re kidding? Gideon never said he had a daughter let alone a,” he stops himself before he can embarrass himself any further.

She smiled at the implication of his words, “but he’s told me all about you Dr. Reid, that’s why I'm here.”

“You need help with a case and I’m the only agent in Virginia currently,” he pressed his lips together awkwardly. Knowing it was too good to be true that she would have any interest in him in the slightest.

“No actually, I have a case I’ve been working on privately and I need some help. I asked my dad but he said you’d be able to help me the best. I agree,” she corrected him softly. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I was a big fan of yours. When I would sit in and watch his lectures, before he knew I was his kid, you would always step in at the best parts, adding the smallest details to the story that the average person would forget. It’s magnificent.”

He laughed slightly, tugging at his collar as she complimented him. “Thank you, you’re quite magnificent as well,” he replied with a blush and a smile

She didn’t look like Gideon, probably because she smiled so much. Like sunshine on legs, she beamed, all but blinding him with her smile as she stared at him, “do you want to get lunch and go over this case with me?”

“I’d love to.”

taglist: (message me if you want to be added or removed)

@shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

[apocalypticgargoyle]

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

I've heard that on TV shows all the time, but hearing it with my own ears is new. I'm scared.

"Hello, hi, uhm." What do I say? How do I do this? "I'm on interstate four, right by the exit to route 408 and I just watched a car go over the side." It feels not real, feels like I'm watching an action movie or one of those dashcam tiktoks that find their way onto my for you page from time to time.

"What interstate four, northbound or south?"

I look to the sign, forgetting that I've driven on this road a million times, still reeling. "North- northbound on four."

"I've dispatched emergency services to you. Can you see the driver?"

I can't even see the car, just the chunks taken out of the concrete barrier where the car hopped it, can see the brake lights still though. "Not where I am but I'm- I pulled off to the shoulder, I can get out and go see if they're okay."

"You don't have to do that, ma'am." A million things are running through my mind, but one sticks out.

"I'm, uh, I'm first aid trained, and I took an EMT class for extra credit in college, I might be able to help?" I turn my keys in the ignition, make sure to keep my hazards on and pocket them, dig through my glove box for the bare bones first aid kit I got when I got the car last year.

"Emergency services are 5 minutes out. I can walk you through helping and give them a better picture if you go over there, but you don't have to. Help is on the way."

"I'm going to see if I can help." Opening the driver's side door seems much too scary, with cars whizzing past going well over the 65 miles per hour speed limit. It's 3 in the morning, and there are no speed traps on this stretch of the interstate. People speed, and they go way over. Instead, I opt to climb over to the passenger seat, careful not to accidentally turn off my hazards, and start over to the crumbled concrete and brake lights. I can hear the driver before I see him, yelling for help. I call out to him.

"Thank god, can you call 911?" He yells, and then I see him. He's laid up between the dash and a cracked but not shattered windshield, curled to see me through the passenger side window, which is gone.

"I'm on the phone with them now, they're, how many minutes is it, 911 lady?"

"Gigi, two minutes out. Can you see the driver? Does he have any visible injuries?"

"Two minutes out, yeah, he's got cuts on his face and his arms, and-" It registers then, that I can see the bones of his arm jutting out of his elbow, and his leg is bent at an impossible angle, and his nose is much too bloody to still be intact. "I think a couple broken bones, too." It's then that I hear the sirens, loud honking, and look to see flashing lights moving down the road. "They're almost here, dude, just keep hanging out."

There's really not all that much distance between where he went over and the ground, so it's easy to clear the wall and land on the ground. Up closer, I can see the puddle of blood he's laying in, bubbling steady out of a large cut in his leg. A flash of my EMT class comes through, it's an artery, somewhere in his leg, and you need to tourniquet it, like ASAP. The truck is still honking, backed up in the saturday night orlando traffic and people pulling to the side to let them through and while I can see and hear it, there's a good half mile wall of bumper to bumper pulling off to give space. No clear path.

"Hey, are you, how do you feel?"

"I feel like shit for crashing my buddy's car, but that's about it right now. Why?" Asking that after you hopped an embankment crashing a car seems kinda weird, but ok?

"I think I need to, like, help you with your leg? Can I?" He nods. I close the distance between me and his car door and manage to open it enough so I can get in the car. It's awkward and there's no real good footing, but I manage to wedge myself in enough to get in a stable spot. "Let's see if I can remember how to do this. I need-"

Ever the helpful phone call, Gigi reminds me. "You need to tie something just above where he's bleeding, tight as you can. A cut seatbelt, a t shirt, something like that." There is nothing like that in my immediate vicinity except for my own shirt, which, I can give up my shirt for this guy, there's another one shoved somewhere in my trunk. It gets stripped off quickly and Gigi helps with directions all the way through. My hands shake vigorously, but I manage to get it to the point where I can't visibly see volumes of blood pour out of him, so I count it as a win.

I look at the truck, still pretty stuck where it is, but the ambulance is getting through, still huge but better able to work through the gaps between the large quantity of cars.

"Am I going to die? Is that why you keep looking to see where they are? Cause I'm going to die?"

"No." I speak firmly despite the panic coursing through my veins, the fear that I might be lying right to his face. "No. The paramedics are almost here and they're gonna help you and get you to the hospital and all that. You're not gonna die." I read somewhere once that in that situation you have to reassure people. They don't fight to live if they think they might die.

The stretch of time that passes before there's an EMT in front of me feels like a lifetime, even if it's only a couple of minutes. And the first thing I notice is that his gaze travels down my body, catching at my chest and oh, yeah, I gave my shirt to the bleeding guy and should probably get out of the paramedic's way. I make to go back and get the extra shirt I know I have in my backseat but I get stopped on my way by another EMT who wants to check and make sure I'm okay.

"I wasn't in the car, I called it in." I wave my phone, which still has 911 on the line, but the paramedic insists, points to a cut on my arm I hadn't realized I'd gotten. I get led to sit on the tailgate of an ambulance, watching firefighters run past from the truck that finally got through carrying loads of stuff, heavy equipment with ease. Nimble fingers clean out the cut before deciding it's not deep enough for stitches, just using steri-strips and wrapping it in gauze with gentle hands and a reserved smile.

"Jade, we need to get going with him!" The first EMT I saw calls while running with a gurney, the guy from the accident strapped against a yellow board with my work shirt still tied around his leg. The paramedic helping me jumps into action, ushers me into the ambulance and helps the guy get the gurney in.

"Sit down, buckle up." He says, looking at me. Jade turns and gives me a bit of a sympathetic look.

"He's always like this. You have to get that checked in the ER still." Oh. Okay. I sit down, strap into the seat, and the ambulance starts moving before the doors are fully closed. They get the car guy all hooked up to all kinds of machines and fuss over him, till the monitor beeping with what I assume is his heart rate steadies, and then the EMT guy visibly relaxes, eyes landing on me again. I cross my arms over my chest, much more self conscious of my state of dress with his gaze on me. He's, unfairly attractive, wavy blonde hair and toned skin, wrapped in an unbelievably tight uniform.

"D'you- here." And then he starts unbuttoning his uniform shirt, and I'm sure my eyes go wide. There's another shirt on under, just as tight with the fire department logo emblazoned on the chest of it. He shrugs off the button down and pulls the t shirt over his head and dear lord, why the hell do men feel so called to wear wife beaters under their clothes, I wanna see how fucking hot he is. The t shirt gets tossed into my lap. He really just- gave me the shirt off his back. My gaze locks on to it, only being torn away from the offending garment when he clears his throat and I snap back up to see him, button up back on his shoulders but undone, face sheepish and what I'd guess to be a blush tinting his skin further in the half dark of the ambulance. "You looked uncomfortable."

It's my turn to go red, flush covering most of my skin and incredibly visible. "Thanks." It takes a moment of maneuvering to get the shirt on with the seatbelt, but it's warm and smells of laundry detergent and a hint of cologne.

"Dream, only fuckin' you." His head whips to the other EMT.

"Only fuckin' me what? Huh?" Jade just laughs, head shaking from side to side.

"Only fuckin' you would give the first girl your age on a call the shirt off your damn back." If he wasn't blushing before, he is now, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of his neck.

"Sorry if that's weird."

"No, it's- I appreciate it." I do.

"Good work, with the tourniquet. He'd be dead by now without it." Is that really the best thing to say while the guy can hear us? Maybe not. Speaking of the guy,

"Is his leg supposed to turn blue like that?" The relaxation in his face vanishes that instant as he hauls up, moves to where he can look up close at the leg, tearing up the leg of the guy's pants.

"Jade, I need to set it so he can keep the leg, can you keep him still?" A distinct yes, and then I get to watch as his muscles flex, hands gripping tight to the broken leg of this guy, and then an audible crack resounds through the small space of the ambulance as he pushes his body forward. The car guy's closed eyes shoot open, mouth gaping in a yell of pain underneath of an oxygen mask. I'm sure that probably hurts like a bitch, and suddenly I am very grateful that I've never broken a bone.

There's not much left in the ride. The two EMTs, Jade and Dream, mainly continuing to work on keeping his monitor from making the erratic beeping it has been letting out from time to time. The ER is a blur of people bustling around the guy, but I get led from the ambulance by a doctor to check the cut on my arm before he comes to the same conclusion that no, I do not need stitches, but that I do need to change the dressing once a day and gives me some disinfectant cream to put on it when I do. While he cleans the wound out, he asks in a lilted british accent. "Did you really tourniquet the guy with your shirt?"

"Yeah, I did. The one thing I remembered from my EMT class, really came in handy." I joke, and he laughs.

"Well the guy is lucky you did. You're an EMT?" I shake my head, and wince a bit when he presses a bit too hard.

"Nah, I wait tables at the Waterfront in South Orange. Took an EMT class for a summer course cause I thought it'd be fun." He hums, turning to grab more bandages to rewrap my forearm.

"Well maybe you should look into it. Quick thinking like that would get you far there."

"I might." It's a real possibility. My accounting major proved to get me the single most boring desk job ever, and I've been looking into other career paths recently. He smiles at me when he finishes wrapping, pulls a card out of his pocket and a pen, scribbles something on the back of it.

"Put me as a reference if you decide you want to." That's, incredibly nice.

"I will, thank you, uhm," The name stitched into his coat is hard to make out. "Doctor Davidson?"

"George. You're good to go, just need to fill out a little paperwork and then you can leave." He walks over to grab a clipboard and a form, brings it back to me, and then heads over to another bed with a little girl in it, pulling a curtain closed behind him.

A week later, I find myself outside of the massive firehouse on Central Boulevard. There's a couple guys in shirts that match the one in my hand outside washing a firetruck, and one notices me and comes over. He's cute. Dark hair that's a little longer than a boys regular, scraps of facial hair on his cheeks, and brown eyes that crinkle at the edges when he smiles.

"Y'need help with something?" His voice confirms the fact that he's young, and it takes me a minute to pull my eyes away from the way his sleeves are tight around the muscle of his arms.

"Uh, yeah, I'm looking for Dream?" I hold up the shirt and the brownies I made as a last minute addition for the firehouse.

"Ahh, shirt girl. Follow me." He heads into the building through one of the massive garage doors, and it is remarkably clean inside. He heads up some stairs to a balcony that overlooks the firetrucks, and both of the paramedics who had helped me are sitting there, talking over plates of pasta. The guy leading me clears his throat and they both look up.

"Hi." I say awkwardly with a small wave. "I brought your shirt back." Dream flusters, standing up to take the shirt from my hands with a thank you and I give him the brownies, too.

"Dream, cough them up, I want one."

"Sap, shut the hell up, here." He places them gently on the table.

"Okay, what's with your guy's names? No way his name is Sap." All three of them laugh.

"They're nicknames." Dream laughs. "My real name is Clay, and his is Nick. Jade is just Jade though, haven't gotten a nickname for them yet." He looks over his shoulder back at his coworker. "Coward." I feel like there's a story here that I don't know, but I don't press for it.

"I mean, I told you my last station called me Storm, so unless you can top that you can call me Jade and nothing else." I like Jade. Jade's funny.

Clay just rolls his eyes, no real malice behind it. "It's gotta be one we give to you. I'm thinking something about you being our getaway driver."

"Dream if you make a baby driver joke right now I swear you will not live to see tomorrow." He laughs, hard and wheezing, sounding nearly painful.

"Fine, fine." He turns to me. "Thank you for returning this." There's a distinct red flush creeping up his neck, but his smile is genuine, green eyes bright with it. Shit. Why do they have to be unfairly attractive? Who's idea was it? Huh? "I'll walk you out."

He walks me all the way to my car, standing awkwardly next to the door of my car.

"Well, I'll let you get back to work. You got lives to save."

"Wait," He says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "I'm sorry if this is too forward, but could I get your number?" Oh. Oh.

"Yeah, of course." He hands me his phone and I punch in my contact, handing his phone back to him. "You should text me so I have yours."

The smile on his face is fitting, full of white teeth and bright happiness. "I will."

I don't think I put my phone down for a week. Clay and I text nearly non stop, and I learn a lot about him in the process. He has a cat (a beautiful tabby named patches who purrs very loudly), he's from Orlando (born and raised, baby.), he wanted to be a firefighter because his dad was one, but his mom who's a nurse had him take EMT training instead (I owe her everything for that), and that he's off work this Friday and wants to head out for drinks with a couple of his fire station buddies and me. I also start getting snapchats from that cute coworker of his, Nick.

I can't tell if Nick intends to be flirting with me or is just trying to get to know the girl his "best fucking friend" is talking to, but... I am definitely feeling some type of way about both of them. It's great, the attention is nice, until Nick invites me out to drinks with them on Friday night not three hours after Clay does.

I feel like my best bet is to be honest with them. I'm not one for lying. And then a new groupchat shows up on my phone. It's got Clay and a number I don't have saved in my phone, and there's a message sent, and then another. I'm scared to open it.

I expect it to be both of them mad that I'm talking to the other and instead it's not? There's a message from Clay and it's-

Dreamie

Hey, I just talked to Nick and wanted to make this groupchat with the three of us. I'm not mad you're talking with him, and he's not mad you're talking to me. We both really like you, and are open to letting you make the decision for yourself if you end up with one of us. Just wanted to communicate that with you :)

And another from who I'm assuming is Nick that says:

Unknown Number

its up to you what happens and if your not ok with this then just tell us and we'll back off.

It's not something I've experienced before talking with two guys at once. Talking with two guys at once that know and work with each other with their consent? Never would have imagined it in a million years. But this is probably the best way to go about it.

Three more days pass before I see either of them in person, still having plans to go out for drinks with Clay on Friday. I end up sandwiched in between the two of them in a both of some firefighter bar on the south side of the city. I feel awkward tucked between them until I get a bit of alcohol flowing through my veins, and then conversation comes like second nature. It's not crazy eventful, feels like I'm hanging out with close friends rather than basically strangers, and it's nice.

The night passes quick, but it's still fun, especially when Clay drives me home and drops me at the bottom of my apartment building with a promise of more plans and a quick kiss that leaves him blushing all the way to the tips of his ears.

In the morning, I wake up to go into work and see a text from Nick, inviting me to dinner with him tonight. I shoot back with a sure, I'd love to. Getting off work at four so that's perfect. and he just sends back a :) and an "I'll pick you up at 7." that makes my shift drag on and on. True to his word, he's outside my apartment building at 7 pm sharp in a button down with his hair brushed neatly behind the wheel of a toyota corolla.

"Where are we even going for dinner?" Nick just shoots me a smile and fucking winks at me.

"You'll see. It's a surprise."

It ends up being some hole in the wall chinese restaurant with what Nick claims is "the best moo goo gai pan in the city". It's fucking amazing, that's for sure, a steaming wok full of it in front of the two of us with plates of fried rice to go with it. It's not an experience I've had at a restaurant before and it's insanely fun. Nick pokes fun at my inability to use chopsticks, tells stories about his friend making fun of him for not being able to use them and learning how at three o'clock in the morning. We're constantly laughing between bites of amazing food, and this easily makes my top three first dates of all time. He refuses to let me pay for my half, but he does let me get the tip after I insist several times that its the least I could do. 

We're halfway through a really good conversation about something that doesn't matter when he pulls up to my apartment, and, not wanting that to end, I invite him upstairs with me. 

"Oh? It's my turn to come up with you?" He teases, and I'm confused for a second before I realize, oh yeah, I'm essentially talking with him and his best friend. 

"What do you mean turn? Clay didn't come up with me, he-" It's probably not the best idea to say he kissed me, I don't want to make Nick jealous. "He dropped me off at the door and he said goodbye." It's not- a lie, per say, but the second it passes my lips I feel guilty, knowing that we need to be honest for this to even have a shot at working. "He kissed me goodbye though." Honesty. We need honesty.

I don't really know what to expect as a reaction from him, but it's not a smile, cocky as ever. 

"Does that mean if I go up with you that I get a kiss too?" Nice, easy, no drama with honesty. 

"Maybe. You'd have to come find out." The grin he's got stays plastered to his face the whole time we're in the elevator, the whole time he's talking mindlessly about the distinct lack of fire safety in the building, the whole time I'm fighting with the works half the time lock on my door. "It's probably too late for coffee, but I have tea in the fridge or coke, or water if you want it." I say, turning to close the door behind us. 

"I'm all good, thank you though." The smile's still there, crinkling his eyes and baring white teeth. "Could go for a kiss, now that I think about it." I shake my head, but still, I laugh. 

"What is it that they call it?"

"Kissing? Lip locking? Smooching?"

"One track mind." That one earns a laugh, a hearty one from deep in his throat.

"You're funny." He says, grabbing my hand and gently tugging me to come sit on the couch with him. "And cute." He sits, pulls me with him so I end up sideways in his lap. The hand he led me over with comes up to brush some of the hair out of my face. "And unbelievably pretty. How could I think about anything else?" 

Smooth. Smooth as fucking butter. Smooth enough for him to earn a quick press of my lips to his own. I can feel him smiling before I pull back, but he chases, returning with a kiss just as chaste before leaning back into the couch, looking like the cat who got the cream.

"I'm winning. I got two kisses." I roll my eyes.

"Isn't it quality over quantity?" He hums, eyes playing from my lips to my own. 

"Why not both?"

"Haha, funny." They're playful, his eyes, as we talk. His bottom lip juts out in a joking pout, and I lean in to kiss at it. He moves at the last second, though, closes the last little bit of space between us when he moves forward to kiss me, soft and slow. His lips are slightly chapped, ever so gentle as the press against mine. My hands press into his thighs to keep me up as his hands come to wrap loosely around my shoulders and he pushes further into the kiss before pulling back. 

"Quality?" 

"Need more data." I say before our lips meet again. He's sweet with it, the way he kisses me. It's nice, easy, feels familiar even though it isn't, not yet. One of his hands moves to rub soft at the nape of my neck. 

I'm just getting comfortable in it when he deepens the kiss, tongue soft against the seam of my lips. It draws a gasp, just what he needs to push further, licking into my mouth before catching my bottom lip between his teeth, worrying at it. He's a good fucking kisser, hahh's into my mouth when I bring my hands up to tug at the dark strands of hair on the back of his head. 

But like all good things, it must come to an end. Unfortunately, that end is when my phone starts blaring the insanely annoying ringtone my friend set it as that I don't know how to change. 

"Nick, I gotta-" 

"Yeah." His arms drop, letting me stand so I can grab my phone and answer whoever is calling. 

"Hello?" 

"We have new information regarding student loan repayment in your area." Is loud in my ear, so I just pull back and press the red end call button.

Nick laughs a little. "Not important?"

"Spam call. Can't be assed to get put on the do not call list right now. I was doing research."

"Yeah? You happy with the results you're getting?" 

This motherfucker I swear.

"This motherfucker I swear." Is also the first thing I say in the morning when I wake up for work and there's a fat hickey on the side of my neck, dark purple and blatantly obvious. I send him a snap of it, just saying really? and he sends back a picture of himself and Clay sitting on the tailgate of a ladder truck with a :) and I am instantly worried that one, Clay saw the snap I sent him and two, that I won't be able to cover it for work. Pushing the first thought out of my mind to focus on the second, I try to get it as normal looking as I can before my shift. It's not perfect, not by a long shot, but it's good enough.

I'm riding the high of not getting comments on it at work when that first thought comes back, catalysted by a snapchat from Clay, a picture barely of his hair with the geotag from the gym down the street from the firehouse with text across it that says "purple looks good on you." I don't know how to respond to that, just send back the floor in front of me. oh come on now  pops up in the chat, and he's still typing. not mad. excited for my turn.  Right.

sorry  I shoot back. this is all pretty new to me

trying to be careful cause i dont wanna mess this up

The little bitmoji he has attached to his account pops up in the corner, lurking for a moment before he starts typing

having these chats is what makes it work. I don't go bragging to Nick about what you and I do, and he doesn't do that to me, but we don't lie about what happens. 

its alot, and none of us have done this before

but keeping communication open and honest is how it works

and that means feelings talks 

He's right. 

youre right

He is. I don't want to make them jealous of each other and that's probably the best way to combat that.

we also have to keep things fair ;) so i get a date too

That has me smiling like an idiot at my phone.

yeah? you got one planned?

not exactly. you doing anything rn though?

I was going to make a sandwich and watch She's the Man for the third time this month.

was gonna watch a movie if you wanna join?

I get a sure, would love to  and a could i trouble you for a pick up from the station?  that has me grabbing my keys and jogging to the elevator faster than I would like to admit.

When I get there, I head inside to say hi to Nick and collect Clay after both of them have assured me that I'm allowed to do so. I don't see Nick when I first walk in, but I do see Clay and jesus, mary, and joseph his hands. He's working over a slab of what seems to be silicon with those massive fingers moving with the utmost precision. When I get a little closer I can see that he's making sutures to close gashes and holes in the mat. I'm impressed with how uniform they are, each a perfect match of the one before it, and with the speed that his hands were moving, I'd say its even more impressive. I'm- not a perfect person, and the thought of what those hands could do to me has me flushing. 

He's pretty wrapped up in what he's doing so I don't want to bother him, but I'm watching so intently that I don't notice Nick come up to me until he hugs me from behind. It makes me jump.

“Shit, Nick, you scared me.”

-gg w the 911 au update

Gg I'm 😩😩😩 you are an amazing writer 🛐 teach me

[scarasimplysimping]

These Books Of You

Xingqiu x Adepti Reader

Sypnosis: A boy of noble blood and disciple to the Guhua Clan, Xingqiu has been reading books of the heroic adventures of an elusive adepti, [Y/N] ever since he was a little boy.

Now a bit older, he sets everything aside in a journey to meet you.

(A/N): I planned to put it all in one post but like it wouldn't fit. Part 2 link below.

"How long will you stay with me?"

"Forever."

Liar.

It was midnight. All of liyue was quiet and asleep except for a certain room where you could here the rustling sound of packing made by a young man eager to leave before dusk.

"Are you sure about this?" Chongyun asks, catching his breath after climbing his friend's window.

"Most definitely!" Xingqiu says excitedly as he picks out the books he would be bringing.

Chongyun furrows his eyebrows, "You don't even have a plan!"

"These books are my plan," The dark haired boy says in a wise tone.

"WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!"

Xingqiu chuckles in response.

Chongyun begins to rant again. "Where will you go? Where will you search? What will you eat? What if you get mugged?"

Xingqiu laughs harder, "My friend, I appreciate your concern but I assure you. Nothing you say will change my mind. I will search all of Teyvat if I must."

"What if they don't exist? What if it's all fiction? Mere children's fairytales."

This makes Xingqiu stop in his tracks, contemplating the possibility for a few moments before coming to the conclusion, "They are real. I can feel it."

"And what of your family? Your brother?"

"I've left them a letter."

"What will they do with the letter? Teach it chivalry?" Chongyun says sarcastically.

Xingqiu does not bother to reply.

The exorcist sighs in defeat, "Xingqiu, if you don't come back alive, I will kill you."

"Then perhaps it's best if I don't come completely," He teases.

"Then I shall kill you right now and you won't get to leave at all."

The two friends bicker like this for a while until it is time for one's departure.

"Be careful, Xingqiu," Chongyun bids.

"I will. Make sure my family doesn't do anything rash while I'm gone."

The light haired boy rolls his eyes.

"Dear Chongyun, If in any case I don't come back, know that I've always appreciated your friendship."

And just like that, Xingqiu climbs out the window and disappears into the dark of night.

In the early afternoon, you sat peacefully, having tea with Cloud Retainer and Zhongli atop of Mt. Aozang. The breeze was nice and so was the view.

"It's a shame only we came to this tea party. It's been ages since we've gathered with the adeptus," The geo archon spoke.

"This is not a petty tea party. One has called a meeting to discuss the next move regarding a matter of great importance," Cloud Retainer retorted.

"And what might this matter be?" You ask while slouching on your seat, showing no interest.

"One has come to notice that ever since the incident of Osial's return and defeat, mortal's have come to One's domain asking for favors or offering goods much more times than One is comfortable with. The mortal, Aether has also-"

Cloud Retainer could not finish because the sound of your intentionally loud sigh interrupted her.

"Is the almighty Cloud Retainer scared of mortal affection and admiration?" You tease. Even Zhongli could not help but smile a bit.

Cloud Retainer threw you both a look that.. well you could only assume was a glare since she was in the shape of a bird after all.

The light-hearted argument continues until you here a soft grunting from a distance.

You all pause, listening as the voice becomes louder and louder and then, you see a hand grip the edge of the mountain, then another. A dark blue haired young man lifts himself up and throws himself onto the mountain surface, panting heavily.

"Oh.. Sweet.. sweet ground.," He says. You can almost hear him thank the Archons that he's made it this far.

"And what is your purpose of interrupting an important gathering?" Cloud Retainer's voice boomed.

Xingqiu blinked a bit before remembering why he was here in the first place. Quickly, he got up and bowed, still woozy from all the climbing. "I've been traveling for two days, seeking an adepti. I've heard that there's another adepti who lives here and I respectfully ask guidance in my journey," he says, still in a bowing position.

Zhongli recognizes him, "Xingqiu, are you not a little to far from Liyue Harbor?"

Xingqiu, in turn also recognizes the man but dares not question Zhongli's purpose. His only concern was finding you. "Please don't tell my family, Mister Zhongli."

You decide to entertain the mortal, "Well Xingqiu of Liyue Harbor, which adepti is it that you're looking for?"

Only then does he make eye contact with you, Xingqiu is taken in by your beauty. He stares a little too long before answering, "The heroic (Y/N)! The legendary adepti of great legends! They who saved thousands of lives and vanquished thousands more foes!" He says enthusiastically.

You are dumbfounded, never have you been sought after by a mortal for your heroic deeds. This was new. "And where do these legends come from?" You ask nervously.

"The books I've read! I've read every single one of the books that mention them."

Conveniently, you remember that time, thousands of years ago where you saved a family of writers who thanked you relentlessly and swore they'd write of your heroics.

While you are contemplating, Cloud Retainer speaks, "Look no further, mortal. The one you seek is here," She gestures to you.

You glare at her. "Is the mighty (Y/N) scared of mortal affection and admiration?" She mocks.

Xingqiu stares at you, trying to imprint this moment into his brain. "You... you weren't what I was expecting."

"And what were you expecting exactly?" You ask, offended.

"To be honest, I assumed you looked like a bird or fox! I was not expecting someone human and... beautiful." He says almost absent-mindedly.

Beautiful? As in attractive to a mortal's eyes? How dare he use such methods of flattery.

"How long will you stay with-"

Liar. Liar. Liar.

Zhongli and Cloud Retainer decide it was best for them to leave, they quietly dismiss themselves and leave you alone in this awkward situation.

The young man before you just stares at you with dazzled eyes.

"Now that you've found me, what do you plan?" You finally question.

Xingqiu stops for a moment. He didn't really think this far and didn't expect to find you so soon.

"I want to be your friend," Xingqiu blurts out.

You are again, taken aback by his straight-forwardness.

This was unnecessary. A mortal of such fleeting lifespan. How would this benefit you? This wouldn't benefit him either; you think to yourself. This is nothing but mortal entertainment. You had no interest in entertaining a mortal at your expense.

"I have no need for mortal company," You say firmly, all your nervousness replaced with a cold gaze.

"Please? I've dreamt of meeting you my whole life-"

"And now you have. Go."

"I swear to the Seven Archons I shall serve you well-"

"No!" This time, you raise your voice. "Go home," and with that, you vanish into thin air.

Xingqiu is sad and dejected,  even on verge of tears but he does his best to keep it together. "Very well," He quietly whispers.

Xingqiu, climbing down the mountain is several feet away from the ground when his mind wonders back to you and the harsh rejection. "Well it's not like an adepti to mortal friendship is common anyway. At least I got to meet them," He says, trying to look on the bright side. He assures himself that he will return.

Tears start bluring his vision and he takes a wrong step, causing him to plummet down and make a loud thump sound.

He groans in pain. For the most part, he was unharmed except for his right hand which was twisted in a weird position.

"Drat! Xingqiu, how pathetic can you be? You fall and just had to break your right arm, you're sword hand!" He scolds himself.

The good part of this was that it was nightfall now, if he was lucky, all the hilichurls around the area would be asleep and he could avoid combat.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans as he sees a hydro abyss mage that he could have sworn was not there before. And the abyss mage sees him.

Xingqiu curses and tries to make a run for it, but as he was still limping from the fall, the mage catches up to him and teleports in front of him. Xingqiu stumbles backwards. In a desperate attempt, he shouts your name. But the abyss mage wasn't going to wait for you to show up. The young man suddenly feels himself getting drowned. So was this it? Rejected by a childhood dream, almost fell to his death and was currently being drowned? What a weird day. What a sad way to die. It's almost poetic. Xingqiu was slowly beginning to lose consciousness, coming to terms with this tragic death when he felt the bubble burst, quite literally.

He fell to the ground, the last thing he saw was the vanishing particles of a defeated abyss mage and what appeared to be a silhouette of a person- Xingqiu was saved!... and falling unconscious.

After you rescued him, you hurriedly brought him to Wangshu Inn, blurting out to Verr Goldet that you almost let a mortal die.

You paced back and fourth at the terrace. While the vigilant yaksha, Xiao watches you with annoyance.

"What if he dies?" You ask frantically.

"You dressed his wounds quiet well. He won't die unless someone comes in and murders him," Xiao says as if trying to be comforting.

Xingqiu awakens from his slumber, body still aching. A cast of bandages was made in order to support his broken arm.

The door slowly opens, you walk in with some hot soup and set it on the bedside table. It didn't take him long to realize that you were the one who saved him.

"You're awake," You state the obvious but almost sigh in relief. "Despite the attack, you managed to go almost unscathed.. except for well, your broken arm."

"Thank you... You really are my hero," Xingqiu says, once again beaming at you.

"Don't come back to Mt. Aozang,"

"Wait- what?" His face falls. And all the feelings of being rejected earlier come back.

"If...," You hesitantly start, "If you must see me, then I spend one night a week at the statue of Pervases." This was a lie, of course. But you were willing to do as you said if that meant the mortal, Xingqiu would stop going through such dangerous measures in order to meet you.

As if like a switch, his bright smile returned almost instantly. "My liege, you won't regret this!"

"Drink your soup and meet me at the terrace when you're prepared to return for Liyue Harbor." You don't know why you say what you say next but it felt right, "and call me (Y/N)."

You shut the door behind yourself quickly, leaving Xingqiu alone in the room, euphoric.

"You should not get too close to mortals," Xiao warns once you reach the terrace.

"I will not."

"In the thousand that I've known you, never once have I seen you prepare soup for a mortal.. or immortal."

"That means nothing."

"And I suppose your made up visits to the statue of Pervases mean nothing as well?"

He had a point there."Don't eavesdrop on my conversations, Alatus."

He glares at the sudden mention of the name. "Their lives are fleeting, (Y/N). The peace at the end of their journey is just a thousand years of grief for us if we so choose to befriend them. I just warn you because I care for you," Xiao says before vanishing from your sight.

He was right. You knew that. Of all the adepti, Xiao knew you the most. He was there when the mortal part of you was taken away in exchange for eternal life, after all.

You loved once. But that did not end well.

"How long will you stay with me?"

"Forever."

Liar

Never again.

Shortly after Xiao's departure, Xingqiu arrives with that ever so charming smile.

Charming? Did you just think that? Right after promising yourself to solitude? Oh dear...

"I've prepared! Will we go on foot or will you fly us there? I must warn you I get motion sick-" He stops talking when he notices you taking steps toward him. You put a hand on his shoulder and Xingqiu's mind goes blank. Was this approval? Mutual admiration? Were you friends now?

"Close your eyes," You tell him.

To which he obeys without hesitation. He's read enough romance books to know where this is going. Xingqiu would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous but at the same time he was extremely excited. His train of thought is cut short when he feels a harsh gust of wind blow his way.

"You may open them now."

He does and to his surprise, the both of you are back at Liyue Harbor, specifically the bridge.

"We... teleported?" He asks, embarrassed of his thoughts just moments ago.

You nod. "This is as far as I'll go. Make it back to your residence carefully and get some rest."

"Can't you come with me?"

"No."

"I have a friend who-"

"No."

"We can grab some countryside delicacy-"

"No."

He sighs in defeat, "But I'll see you tomorrow night, right?"

"Perhaps."

Xingqiu, in a moment of elation and not thinking properly, abruptly takes your hand and places a kiss on your knuckles.

Realizing what he had done the dark haired boy glows red as apples and lets go as quick as he took hold of you. "W-well... good-bye then."

The boy leaves you dumbfounded once again.

Part 2

V

[mammonprotectionsquad]

Happy Monday!!! ♥️ let’s start the week with a little self ship love: Vanderwood says he has a new trendy restaurant he wants to take to you. After finding the proper attire you two leave. Describe your evening after walking in and being met with this sight:

Lea, hi! Omg I'm so late to this xD

But this topic was kinda funny to me, because the other day, one of my friends and I talked about why we don't really like going to restaurants 😂 the timing is just *chef's kiss*

This was really fun to write, though! Gave me a big boost of serotonin 💕

"This is the place?"

"Mhm."

"Nice. Yeah, it's real fancy. So uh... You showed it to me and now we can leave", I rambled, at the same time turning around to walk back right out of the door again. Though Vanderwood stepped into my way, resulting in me simply bumping into his broad chest.

"Come on, I reserved a table for us", he murmured, hands resting on my hips to keep me in place. "Besides, do you really want to go home already after you got all dolled up?"

"I dressed up for less before."

"Baby girl..."

As much as I felt out of place there, it was impossible to not give in to him. Letting out a defeated sigh, I pouted up at him for good measure, resulting in him pecking my lips.

It didn't take much longer until a waiter led us to our table, handing us the menu as soon as we were seated. And as expected, everything was a bit more on the expansive side, making me feel a little more uncomfortable than I had already been walking into the restaurant. The entire time my face was in a frown, while I tried to look for something I'd like that wouldn't cost too much.

Though when it was time to order, I didn't even get the chance to open my mouth, Vanderwood taking it upon himself to order food and drinks for both of us. Knowing way too well what my favorite dishes are.

"You know I'm perfectly able to order for myself, right?"

"I know you would've only picked a salad", he countered with a raised brow, amusement fairly visible in his brown eyes. "I remember someone saying that we should try some new places, every now and then", he went on, reaching out to take my hand.

"I know I said that. But I didn't mean crazy fancy restaurants where dinner costs as much as our groceries for two weeks or so."

I kept my gaze down as I began to play with his fingers. Something I usually did when I felt nervous for whatever reason. Though in order to make me look up, he reached out with his free hand to cup my cheek, the way his expression softened causing my cheeks to heat up ever so slightly.

"You always insist on spoiling me. Let me return the favor now, hm? Just enjoy the food, I'll take care of everything else."

Once again it was just unfair how easily he was able to make me give in to him. But then again, I knew just how weak I was for him, especially when he was being so sweet.

"Unfair... Also, what happened to Mr "I'm only gonna talk as much as possible and keep it short", huh?", I teased, mainly to distract a bit from how quickly he'd won.

"Well, he got a very chatty girlfriend, who always expects him to answer with more than two words", he countered with a smirk.

And even though I pretended to be offended by that, I couldn't help but chuckle, giving his leg a light nudge with my foot under the table.

"Oh, come on! I'm not that- okay, maybe I am chatty. But I pretty much had to talk for two when we started dating!"

The lighthearted bantering slowly but surely helped to ease the rest of my nerves and the conversation continued comfortably over the main course, making me nearly forget that he'd taken me to such a fancy place. As it happened rather often, my world easily narrowed down on him, nothing else really mattering outside of our little bubble when we were together.

We chatted over everything and nothing, really. Just whatever came to mind. Planning what to cook for dinner, the next couple days. Reminding him that my mom insisted on us visiting her when the weather is nice, so we can catch up while relaxing in the garden. Him in return reminding me that we had to take the dog to the vet in a couple days for her yearly check-up, and so on.  All in all, it was a very nice evening, making me glad that I hadn't insisted on going back home before giving the place a try.

While we waited for dessert, Vanderwood reached out to take my hand once again, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. After flashing him a wide smile, I let my gaze wander, taking in all the beautiful decor, which easily made me feel like we were in some kind of fantasy world.

"Cute..."

His voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I looked back at him just in time to see him put his phone back down. With the most fake innocent expression I've ever seen on him.

"Did you just take a picture of me?", I asked in amusement, leaning a bit closer over the table, him mirroring my movements.

"I did. It's my new lockscreen."

No matter how long we've already been together, sometimes his bluntness still surprised me, making me blink a couple times before I laughed quietly.

"Oh, you're allowed to take sneaky pics of me for lockscreen purposes but when I do it you tell me to delete it? Doesn't sound fair to me."

But I had to admit he did let me keep the adorable picture I once took of him, napping on the couch with the dog sleeping on his chest. And I doubted I would've switched that one out anytime soon anyway.

"I did let you keep the ones that didn't look weird", he smirked, leaning in further until his lips brushed against mine.

When dessert arrived, whe both straightened back up, if a little reluctantly, but he refused to let go of my hand. A small thing that easily made my heart skip a beat.

Without really thinking too much about it, I held my fork with a piece of the chocolate cake he'd ordered for me out to him. It was a normal thing we did at home all the time; feeding the other one something in order to share it or when he wanted me to try something new.

"Becky..."

"Yes?"

"We're in a restaurant."

"So? That doesn't mean I can't share my cake with my boyfriend, does it?", I hummed, moving the fork a little closer to his lips.

Even though he let out a long sigh, his cheeks sporting a faint pink tint, he still leaned in to finally eat the cake.

"You're the worst, you know that", he muttered with a playful glare.

"You still love me, though~"

"Mhm... That I do, indeed."

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

Chapter 5. We have stucky, we have stevesambucky friendship, we have a new place to live and strange being a good guy because tony definitely ranted at him. Also, we're beginning the creepy part of the plot. I have decided that sam will be one of the main platonic characters in this story because I love sam.

fun fact: I used to be a creepypasta writer! Going back to my roots here, hehe.

Things had stated changing, for better or worse, much sooner than I had been prepared for - but was anyone, ever, really ready for the next big step? Certainly not me - the view that greeted me after I'd finished my shift at Jeremy's was peculiar and unexpected, so I froze, eyebrows high at the two super-soldiers parked, once again, illegally, right in front of the entrance door.

"Hi, doll," Bucky was reclined against his boyfriend comfortably, his bike standing a pace behind Steve's, who nodded companionably, a sheepish grin on his face.

"G'day," I nodded, eyeing them warily. "I think I know where this is going..."

"No, no, nothing like that," both men frantically waved their hands around, Steve coming up close to approach me slowly. "You're not in trouble. I came out here to say thanks," giving a sappy look to the grouch that was his boyfriend, Steve reached into his pocket and handed me a slip of paper. "Just, uh..."

"Those are our phone numbers. Don't hesitate to give either one of us a call if someone bothers you," Bucky took over the stammering blonde, shaking his head at the soft blush that blossomed on the good captain's face. The brunette wrapped an arm around Steve's shoulders with a shy smile of his own. "Or if you, I don't know, need someone to carry your groceries or something," he snorted. "The punk wouldn't leave it alone until we came out personally to thank you, the sap."

The laughter bubbled up from my chest as I grabbed and pocketed the paper, throughly amused and at the endearing gesture. "Sure, thanks."

"And, uh," Bucky's eyes briefly looked to the side. "We'd appreciate if you keep the status of our relationship to yourself for now. We're not, like, officially out yet."

I froze in place, mouth falling open. Surely they were aware that anybody with a functional pair of eyes could see that they were much more than 'good, lifelong friends'. "No problem, guys. Lemme know if anyone gives you shit about it though, this place," I gestured to the café behind me, "is strictly paparazzi and homophobe-free."

Steve's grin grew even more genuine. "Yeah, we heard all about it from Tony and Stephen. Said 'twas the only place they go these days."

I wasn't aware of that. "It's the paps, isn't it?" I remembered Tony's remarks.

Bucky shook his head, the metals of his prosthetic arm whirring as it recalibrated. "Not only. The public hasn't had the best reaction to a man goin' out with a man," the brunette looked away to the side, where Steve's face had fallen considerably. "And Tony's an eccentric rich man. We're jus' two soldiers. The US Army won't be too happy if we... Came out," both men were crestfallen yet determined.

I had a hunch nothing would be able to separate the two - seeing as not even seventy-odd years and brainwashing and ice couldn't keep the captain and his sarge apart, I doubted that a few government weasels could successfully do the job. Even so, it was unpleasant, to say the least, to see them deny themselves something that technically was perfectly fine in the 21st century.

I chewed on my lip, gathering my wits. "I've clocked out, I can tell you this as a friend- as a person. You don't owe the army jack shit. They do not own you, you are your own person that they experimented their German knockoff steroids on. Respectfully, fuck that shit." I firmly stated my opinion, figuring that there should have been at least someone that told Steve that he is more than his star-spangled uniform and giant metal frisbee.

The blonde scrunched his eyebrows together, fingers gripping onto his belt until the knuckles went white, the hard line of his jaw set firm.

Bucky laugh took me by surprise. "Agreed, doll. I'm too old to be hiding in back alleys and shit," he clapped on his boyfriend's shoulder. "Although I'm happy enough with just not going to prison for bein' in love with this idiot."

"Jerk," Steve's responding pout was downright adorable now that I knew the circumstances surrounding their relationship.

Which wasn't exactly surprising. As a barista, I knew my fair share about my regulars' love lives, their jobs, their kids. The tea was almost always piping hot. "Bye, boys," I smiled at them warmly, throwing a glance at the time, adjusting the strap of my bag for comfort. "Stay outta trouble!"

Steve scrambled for his bike, having noticed my pointed gesture. "Sorry, didn't mean to hold you back. There, I have a spare helmet," he gestured behind him. "I'll give you a ride."

"There's no way in Hell I'm getting on that death trap!" I shouted cheerfully, walking briskly towards my second job, hiding a laugh in the warmth of my scarf as two very offended motorcycle-loving gay fossils sped past me, making truly incredible amounts of noise. Good for them.

Odette was content to let me rummage around the bodega without showing herself more than necessary, taking her appointments and doing- well, witch stuff, I guess, only coming out to poke at the various jars for ingredients.

"Star, I have a proposition for you," right before closing time, Odette's voice filled out the store with its low drawl. "A good friend of mine owns an apartment building, not far from here actually, and one tenant recently moved out. It's a safe space for those who are different," she enunciated the last word, fixing it with a pointed stare. "She's not overly fond of total strangers coming to live there. The rent is reduced and the apartment itself is slightly bigger and more fashionable than yours..."

"Where's the catch?" I found myself interrupting her. I wouldn't lie: the reduced rent and increased size of the apartment did interest me, as well as the probability of a kinder, more involved landlord. My current one was - not the best, but such was life in the NYC.

"There are a few rules to follow, rules that might seem strange at first but they'll make sense in time. And your neighbors might be also a little... Unusual," Odette carefully studied my face for any signs of displeasure.

I sighed.

And then I sighed some more as I was signing my new lease in a few days' time, having spoken with Porter, my new landlord, and his boyfriend who had claws and fangs- after so much time spent around Odette's, I didn't even blink. The couple liked me enough to extend a secure but flexible offer and some furniture to choose from the attic where they kept the spares.

I quite liked the large, vintage couch I placed next to the wide bow windows in the living room. The floors were hardboard and well-kept, the walls a nice, homely shade of green and Porter didn't mind any new holes in them that might arise from hanging up decorations. I scheduled a thrift crawl at the next possible opportunity, happy with the "good employee" bonus Odette had given me after I sealed the deal.

My stuff was boxed up, a sleepless night and a call to a begrudging Jeremy to have a couple of days off to move; I was, thankfully, not late on my schedule and all that I had left was to rent a car to move the boxes of my things and the few pieces of furniture I had decided to keep - my haul in Porter's attic had been incredibly rewarding and my new apartment had all the basics to make it look like a warm, inviting bohemian home in a while.

My phone rang suddenly, startling interruption to the romcom I was watching as I ate my last lunch in my old apartment. "Hello?" I answered the number without looking.

"Hi, doll," Bucky's voice rang out cheerful. "A little witch told me you were moving. I thought you might need a hand?"

I blanked momentarily, the thought of enlisting two very busy super-soldiers to haul ten boxes and two endtables worth of stuff not having crossed my mind at all. "Is this the moment when you stop by my house just to unattach and put your prosthetic arm somewhere and leave?" I asked, hearing distinctive snickering - several more people were with him.

The cheer in his voice blossomed into a full belly laugh. "You're funny," he teased me. "And thanks for the idea. But no, I have a room full of men that have nothing better to do but get on my nerves. Might as well make 'em useful," his accented drawl thickened the more we spoke. Muted cheers rang out in the background.

"Uh, sure," who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth? I rattled off my address and warned them I didn't have a car, after which Bucky assured me it will be taken care of. The last remaining knick-knacks packed away, I went down to take out the trash, and returned to four people standing in front of my apartment building, all except one unrecognisable in their civilian clothes. "Hello," I waved at them, side-eyeing the tallest, grumpiest man of the bunch.

Stephen Strange was there, looking around curiously, hands in the pockets of his plain grey hoodie. I had already forgotten how normal he looked without his robes, and, frankly speaking, I preferred him like that. His title and the attire that came with it were quite intimidating.

"Hey there," a dark-skinned man who I recognised to be the Falcon, raised his hand. I had not met him yet. "I'm Sam, Sam Wilson. You must be the Star we're helping?" His quick once-over and the tilt to his lips; the ease with which he flirted had me brandishing smirks of my own. I led them all upstairs, Stephen's silence being just so loud. Sam, however, had no such reservations. "So, you're a witch, right?" Wow, subtlety was his middle name.

"Yes, I'll show you my broomstick," I deadpanned, wiggling my eyebrows at him with a grim look.

"Woah woah," Sam raised his hands as the three men behind us snickered loudly. "What happened to 'how are you? let's have dinner sometime'?"

I did my best imitation of an evil cackle as I let them through my front door. The four newcomers looked around my nearly empty apartment with muted interest before zeroing in on the pile of things in the corner: a few pieces of furniture and nearly taped boxes. Should be a walk in the park for four men.

A hand on my arm pulled me from the stupor of observing Sam, Bucky and Steve act like a well-oiled trio, bantering and teasing each other as they discussed how to best move the things.

"Look," Stephen Strange had all the appearance of a chastised puppy. "I wanted to apologize for my behaviour that day. I was out of line," the low notes in his voice made the appearance of the apology being somewhat reluctant. Tony probably put him to it after our little burger run.

Irregardless, I wasn't looking to make any enemies. "Me too, I was under stress - not that I'm using it as an excuse," to give where it's due, I nodded at the sorcerer, immediately awestruck by the easy, boyish smile that stretched on his lips.

"You are strong," he added. "If you would like to learn our ways, we would welcome you." There was a spark in his eyes, something belonging to man that respected and collected knowledge. My own respect for him grew immensely just from that one thing.

"I'll think about it," I offered amicably, however, I still leaned heavily towards a negative answer to that particular proposition. I liked my current way of life.

Strange's grin made a momentary second appearance, until Sam's voice rang loudly: "Fire in the hole, Wizard-man," causing the former to groan loudly and look at me.

"Think about your new place for a second," he spoke, briefly touching out fingertips. As soon as that was over, a golden circle with my new living room on the other side of it appeared quietly, Strange's hands immediately going back into his pockets after that. I sighed and pointed the men into it, stepping in a second after. The sorcerer wasn't far behind. "You could learn that, too, you know," he added wryly, having seen my look of mild envy directed at him.

"I think I'll be good with having the 'pissed off the sorcerer Supreme and lived' pass for now," I retorted with an eyeroll, turning around to stare him down.

He had the decency to look somewhat sheepish, at least. "I'm not like my predecessor," his words were chosen carefully. "And, to be honest, I have no clue as to why your... Boss is so hostile towards me- us," Strange looked around the room before unceremoniously beelining for the couch and plopping down on it.

"Not to be a gossip," I started, slightly intrigued. "But Odette and some lady she called ancient had mad beef," I slipped into casual language easily, trying to recall the details of Odette's, quite often jumbled, stories. "Sounded almost like territorial disputes," I shrugged. "And the apprentices Odette took on before me found themselves in all kinds of compromising situations," I chewed on my lip. "Like the Arctic."

Strange rubbed his face with a noisy groan, large hands doing nothing to mask the resignation and slight embarrassment.

I focused on the thin, red scars on his hands - they had to have been something serious, the way slight tremors betrayed the deteriorating state of the nerves in his fingers. I frowned, quickly averting my gaze before he could catch me ogling him. The fact thag Stephen kept his hands in his pockets or covered by gloves at all times didn't go over my head.

He muttered something to himself, something that sounded like he was often forced to clean up his predecessor's mess. "I see," was the only thing he'd offered me, looking slightly pitiful and apologetic.

"Well," I started, noting the last of my stuff was about to be in its rightful place, "as long as you don't toss me into the ocean, I think we can coexist peacefully."

"Tony would kill me if I'd tried," Stephen groused.

"Probably," I agreed. "Considering the fact he hit on me, for you, it would make one hell of a lover's quarrel," my hand pointed towards the kitchen as Steve and Sam carried in the boxes aptly labeled "kitchen", looking around a place to put them down.

"Tony did what now?" Stephen's tone dropped, a wry smirk decorating his lips as he eyed me through his lashes.

"Don't ask me," I raised my palms, feeling my eyes widen. "He's chaos personified and Satan only knows what he's got on his mind."

That squeezed a laugh out of the tall man, followed by a fond, sappy smile as he looked out of my large, panoramic window, probably thinking of Tony himself. There was no doubt, Stephen Strange was utterly and throughly head over heels in love with Tony Stark. Good for them, good for them.

"A-and that's it," Bucky walked in, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel I'd provided them earlier. "I took some liberties and assembled the furniture, Steve is stacking the dishes as we speak," the brunette noisily plopped down next to me, arm carelessly thrown behind me on the back of the couch.

"Oh, um," I stammered, unused to such random gestures of kindness. "Thanks a lot, you saved me a day's worth of time and a backache," I smiled, scooting over to make some room for Sam.

"No problem, not like we had anything better to do than argue which part of the Lord of the Rings is the best," Wilson rolled his eyes, elbowing Bucky none-too-gently.

Bucky elbowed back, thus starting a horsing war between the two, causing me to scoot closer to Stephen as I attempted to avoid any flailing limbs; the sorcerer and I shared an identical, perplexed sigh as to how two grown men could easily bait each other into such juvenile behaviour.

Whatever. It was kind of endearing.

Steve emerged from the kitchen dusty but smiling, having heard the commotion, and quickly herded his guys into a semblance of decent behaviour before all of three of them left, leaving me and Stephen to go back to my old apartment and give the keys to it to the guard. That was done, too, and a portal from an alley behind my old building straight into my living room had me and Strange awkwardly hovering, saying out goodbyes and waving to each other as the golden circle rapidly shrunk in size and disappeared, golden sparks scattering across my living room carpet for a short second before they fizzled out, too.

I used the brief moment of respite to find the small piece of paper containing the rules Porter had insisted I read and take seriously; figuring it might be a good idea to give them a read before beginning to unpack, I popped open a bottle of soda, holding the itemized list written in neat cursive to my face.

The further I read, the further my eyebrows rose:

"1. Keep your door locked at all times.

2. If a person knocks on your door claiming to be the mail man, do not open the door under any circumstances. You are free to ignore the knocking - it only lasts a minute or so. After the person has left, you may open the door and check for any packages.

3. If Samantha from 3B visits you and asks you to babysit, you may do so at your personal discretion. Her twins are a handful and their daily habits are not for the ones with a weak stomach, however, they mean nothin ill and will not harm you in any way.

4. Do not use the elevator between the hours of 1 and 4 AM.

5. There are no apartments under number "7". If someone claiming to be from those apartments knocks on your door and requests entry, come up with a polite excuse to decline and send me a text message. I will take care of it.

6. There is no garden on the premises of this building. If a man approaches you, claiming to be a gardener, don't interact with him and simply walk away. He will leave you alone.

7. You may meet a girl in a polka-dot dress playing in the hallways or in the stairwell. This is Lucy. Always be polite to Lucy - you won't like what will happen if you're rude to her. She does not talk but she knows limited ASL and may request to visit you. Allow her in ONLY if you have fresh meat in your fridge (beef or mutton, preferably bloody). You might want to avoid seeing her eat, however, it might be very beneficial to make friends with Lucy. She knows a lot of things.

8. If, when taking the stairs, you encounter inconsistent numeration of the floors, such as floor 2 followed by floor 5 and etc, simply walk a flight back. It will sort itself out. The building is old and sometimes it gets confused.

Important notice: these rules apply to your guests as well. Please make sure to introduce and educate them on these matters. We will help as much as we can should a situation arise but ultimately, there are fates far worse than an untimely, however swift, death.

- Porter and Lance."

A slow, creeping dread began to gnaw at my nape, curling on like a cold snake deep in chest. As if laughing at me, the warm, welcoming embrace of the green walls and the toothy, wide smiles my landlords had given me encouraged my recently found sense of adventure, all of it mixing into a cacophony of exhilaration and unease, equally steadily driving my running brain insane.

I sighed again, immediately going to the box containing my altar and the rest of the protective items. So much for peace.

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox

[wendystales]

Memories - lrh (Chapter Three)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Two ※※※※※ Chapter Four

My mother spent the night with me and early in the morning I managed to convince her to go home and sort out her own things. Stephen was supposed to arrive at 8 am and I didn't want her here when that happened, she wouldn't like to see him at all.

“If there's anything I'll call, you can go, really.” I assure her, who goes reluctantly.

The clock struck five to eight and I was for the thousandth time running my hands through my hospital gown and my hair. My hands were sweating and my stomach was churning, I stared at the door as if I wanted to open it with the power of my mind, until it opened.

It was shocking to see him so different from what I remembered. His hair was shaved and bleached, almost white. Now he had a colorless rose on his neck that took up half of his left side and a piercing in his septum. He was a different person, just like me, it really had been years.

“Only Marnie McGonagall manages to remain exuberant even all run down.” he cracks a wide smile to break the tension. “These are for you!” he hands me a bouquet of daisies. They're not my favorite, but I thank him.

“Thank you, they are beautiful. Thank you for coming.” I try to control my breathing. It's all so strange.

“I was surprised by the call, I swore that after you left you would never speak to me again.” he throws himself on the chair beside the bed.

“So our breakup was real?”

“Yes, but not the way you were told, you met this famous guy and fell for him. We had already broken up when I started going out with Bethany.” he talks as if he is talking about the weather. The mention of him and Bethany together makes me nauseous, maybe it was jealousy.

“My mother talked about cheating, that I caught you guys.” I introduce the subject calmly, I know how much Stephen hates to be accused of anything. He rolls his eyes like he' s saying ‘I knew it.’.

“It impresses me that you buy that, Lizzie. You know how much your parents hate me. You broke up with me, that's true, but because you met this guy. He bewitched you, and it wasn't easy to get over you.”

I take a deep breath trying to control myself. It was too much information, too much information. I had broken up with Stephen for Luke, this didn't make any sense. I loved Stephen, I still do. Maybe this memory loss was a chance for us to get back to the way things were before.

“Did you and Bethany...?”

“No! It didn't work out, then she moved to Canada with her family, it wasn't going to work out, and deep down…” he comes closer, sitting on the bed and holding my hand. “I still love you.”

I open my mouth, but can't say anything, the statement takes me in total surprise. Stephen seizes the moment and kisses me. Nostalgia overwhelms me and all the moments we have lived through take over my mind, but deep, deep down, something screams in my head, it wasn't right, it didn't feel right. It wasn't him.

I lower my head breaking the kiss, feeling more lost than before. Stephen holds himself in place, but my urge is to push him away. Something bubbles up inside me and it is not happiness or passion.

“I think it's time for you to go.” I let out a harsher tone than I expected. I still don't face his eyes, maybe out of fear, maybe because I can't bear to look at him.

“You call me here and send me away like this?” he asks incredulously and offended. “You are unbelievable, Marnie. I don't know why I still waste my time with you. Your memory may have faded, but deep down you are still under his spell.” at that moment I abruptly turn my face to meet his. I know that my eyes are burning with anger, and so are his.

“I said, it's time for you to go.” I say in a broken voice, listening to my heartbeat rise.

Stephen stares for a few seconds before he gets up, picks up the daisies, and slams the door. I sink into bed, trying to calm myself. It really wasn't one of my better ideas to call Stephen here, but maybe it was necessary.

I turn on the TV and flip through the channels until I notice a picture of me. I go back to the channel and turn up the volume. They are talking about my accident and without me being able to prepare myself, they play the video of how it all happened.

I hold my breath as the pickup truck crashes into my side, causing my car to spin on the road and crash into the pole. They play it one more time, but in slow motion. The tip of my nose tingles and my eyes start to fill up.

Still watching the TV, my mind brings back the moment of the accident.

"I crank up the starter and before I can send the audio, I feel a loud impact on my left side. A deafening noise fills the entire car. Quite faintly, I watch the track spin and feel the shards of glass hit me, before I give myself over to that uncontrollable sleep."

The video changes and they show my attending, I cover my mouth, watching my unconscious body being pulled from the car.

My stomach clenches and I feel like vomiting from the nervousness. I turn off the TV and grab my cell phone, going back to researching my life in an attempt to distract myself.

Unlike yesterday, I Google my name and see what headlines pop up about me. Some sites give a brief summary of my trajectory, which helps me a little.

I watch some videos of rehearsals, interviews, fashion shows, even those videos of paparazzi leaving restaurants, with him. I look again at Instagram calmly, photo by photo, video by video, even the stories archives. There are several parties, trips, slumber nights, bts from photo rehearsals, and a lot of stuff with him, again. Of course, he is your boyfriend. Asshole!

I barely recognize myself on the screen. The Marnie I watch is outgoing, funny and charismatic, and I was never like that, at least as far back as I can remember. Which leads me to believe that this Marnie, model, famous and full of important friends, is a character.

Leah, Noah, Calum, Ashton, Mike and Kyleen. They don't just seem like friends, they seem like my family, brothers, I don't know. While it is fun to watch some of these videos, of all of us fooling around and messing up, on the other hand it hurts not to have any memories of them.

“How is my little girl doing?” I snap out of my trance and run my eyes to the door. I feel my eyes water as I recognize the middle-aged man.

“Dad!” I hadn't realized the urge to cry until I saw him. Until I felt his embrace.

“ It's okay, my love. I'm here. It's going to be all right, I swear!” he comforts me while I soak his shirt.

“ I'm sorry.” I pull away, trying to control my tears.

“For what?” he looks at me curiously. I shrug, not knowing what to say. Lately I feel I have to apologize for everything. “Honey, none of this is your fault. This amnesia is just a sequel, in a little while it will go away and you will remember everything.”

“I hope so. Even because everything I've forgotten has been very hard to remember.” I comment, playing with the bar of the blanket.

“ It's been a busy three years. You went from just my little girl, to one of the top models of 2019. That's quite a breakthrough.” he laughs, which makes me crack a smile. Only my dad could make me find that funny.

“Apparently I'm dating a rock star.” I join in with him.

“A very nice guy, I must say. He gave me a Gibson guitar.” he widens his eyes, emphasizing how awesome that was.

“Dad, you play guitar?” that would be nothing compared to what I couldn't remember.

“No, but it is amazing to have it on the wall.” for the first time since this whole nightmare, I allow myself to laugh.

My father spent the rest of the morning with me. He told me about his new job and how he was traveling the world now, helping his boss. I don't know how my mother was dealing with all this, she hated to be away from him.

“Mom must not like this new job of yours at all, huh?” I ask, scraping my red Jell-O.

I glare at my father when I notice his silence. We were sharing the bed space, he also had a Jell-O and we looked like two little girls gossiping while stuffing themselves with ice cream. I find his silence strange and wonder if something is wrong.

“Dad?” I call him once more.

“I was trying to find the best way to tell you this.” he sits up straight.

“What? Did you and Mom have a fight?” that was normal, not that big a deal.

“No! Actually, a little more than two years ago, your mother and I talked and we thought it was better to go our separate ways... with different people.” he speaks very slowly, calmly, and a little fearfully. I blink a few times, taking in the words and what they meant together. They got divorced?

I sit up like him, feeling uneasy. I start to breathe deeply. My relationship went down the drain. My parents broke up. Bethany disappeared across Canada. Nothing, absolutely nothing, that I had before had survived.

“Honey?” he brings me back to reality.

“Why? What? What happened?’ I ask. He opens his mouth a few times, saying nothing, trying to find what to say.

“Things were not going very well anymore. We were arguing too much and not even looking at each other anymore.” he takes a deep breath, visibly uncomfortable. “And I had an affair with a woman from my old job, that was the end of it.” he says so low, I can hardly hear, and honestly, it was better not to listen.

I always grew up thinking that my father was the best man in the world. My superhero. Prince Charming from all the Disney movies. The kind of man I would like to meet in my life. And then I find out that my father was none of these things. He is just like all the others.

“How could you?” disgust overflows in my mouth. “You have a family.” again something bubbles up inside me.

“I have no excuse, no justification, I was wrong and I regret the way things turned out. It didn't have to be this way. Okay, today your mother and I are friends and we go our separate ways, but there was no need for all that suffering to happen.” he stares again at the jelly, ashamed.

Silence fills the room. Nobody knows what to say. I don't recognize the man next to me. I don't even know what is going on in my head at the moment, there are so many thoughts and assumptions that I feel like I'm going crazy.

“Have you found someone yet? I mean, are you still with that woman from your old job?” I ask softly, poking the skin on my finger.

“No, she was just a fling. It didn't work out. Your mother was seeing someone until last month, but apparently it didn't work out.” he shrugs, which shocks me a little. I know it's so natural for them, but I'm still absorbing it here. “I met someone, Meredith. We've been together for a year now.” he gives me a beautiful, passionate smile. “Let me show you some pictures.” He gets as excited as a teenager. “Unless you don't want to.” he looks at me fearfully.

“I want to.” I crack a tight smile.

My father is back to being the excited teenager as he shows me the pictures of Meredith and her children. Children?

“They're yours?” I ask slightly jealous.

“No, Kendall and Samantha are from her first marriage, they are twins.” he smiles. “But I love them as if they were my own, the same way I love you.” he gives me a kiss on the side of my head.

He passes me another picture and my heart races as soon as I see them both, he on my lap and she on Luke's lap. I hold up the cell phone and stare at the picture with an ache in my chest.

“This was at my wedding, you both looked beautiful.” my father comments softly. I bite my lip, trying to control my crying and smiling at the same time. We really did look beautiful.

“I always wanted to have brothers, remember?” I ask with my voice shaking. I pass another picture and now my father and Meredith are posing with the four of us.

“They think you are the best big sister in the world.” I grimace, letting the tears come over me. They are not from sadness. Honestly, I don't even know what they are from, but the feeling is good.

Around lunchtime my father left, as he was exhausted, he had come straight here from the airport after a 12 hour flight. I was alone for the rest of the afternoon reading, until my mother arrived at 4pm to pick me up.

When we left the room, I noticed that Luke didn't come, which I find strange, since I remember my mother had commented that he was coming with her.

“He had an upcoming incident with the band, but he should be at your apartment later.”

The fact that I have to wait longer to talk to him makes me nervous and anxious. I just wish he would show up soon so he could help me with everything and clear up the sea of curiosity.

Along the way, I am talking to my mother about her and my father. I was so distracted by the conversation that I didn't even notice when we arrived in front of a beautiful building.

“Are you sure we are at the right address?” I ask looking out the window. My mother laughs and gets out of the car. I live here?

When we get to my floor, I realize that there is only one apartment per floor. We must be at the wrong address. My jaw drops as I enter the hall of the apartment.

Right away I find a huge painting of myself on the wall to my left. I was wearing that strange make-up and an even stranger outfit. The tone is black and white, but I am sure that the color picture is very colorful.

“This was the picture of your first magazine cover.” my mother clarifies with a huge smile on her face. I stare at my picture again, still frowning.

I follow my mother into the living room, once again letting my jaw drop. I had a living room right at the entrance, to my right was the living room with a huge TV, and to my left was the dining room. Slowly, I walk through the space, looking at everything breathlessly.

“Is this my apartment?” I ask in surprise. My mother lets out a short laugh before confirming. “I bought it?” she nods. “With my money?” she nods again. “As a model?” she laughs. “Okay! This is still too much for me.”

I walk curiously around the apartment again, looking at the kitchen, living rooms and, of course, the bedrooms. Two guest rooms and mine. When I reach the second floor, I am confronted with a hallway full of pictures. They range from personal photos to work photos. I pay more attention to the pictures of me and Luke. We are a beautiful couple.

I go into my room and find everything arranged. I let the excitement take over me when I see the closet. I look at the clothes, amazed, besides several boxes of brands like Gucci, Prada and Chanel still unopened.

On the last shelf, I see an older looking box, the slightly faded color catches my eye. I pull out a small ladder and carefully pull the box onto my lap, it wasn't heavy, but doing this with a broken arm and a twisted leg is not easy.

I sit down on the closet floor itself and open the box, wishing I hadn't seen it and maybe never opened it. I gently run my hand over those little souvenirs with tears in my eyes once again. I need to stop crying.

Movie and concert tickets, dried flowers, empty peanut cans, cards, cabin photos, and beer caps, everything I lived through with Luke. The feeling that takes over me is almost suffocating. My body feels and radiates all that it represented, but my mind would not let the image load.

Underneath it all, I pull out a diary and, at the same time that curiosity eats away at me, fear also takes over. I close my eyes and open to a random page.

"I can't believe I modeled at NYFW. OMG! OMG! OMG! It's unbelievable. I'm going to need to watch the runway show about a thousand times before I can believe it."

I flip back a few sheets and stop when I see Luke's name.

"I know it's not a good sign that I'm thinking about him and being so close to him, but I can't help it. Luke is amazing. The way he looks at me, how he listens to me, how he understands me, and his kiss...I can't forget his kiss..."

“Sweetheart?” I hear my mother scream. I wipe away the tears and put the little box under the skirt of some dresses. I get up as fast as I can and walk to the bedroom door.

“Yes?”

“I thought I'd help you in the shower, what do you think? Get rid of that hospital smell.” I accept the idea, which sounds very good.

After a good shower, I put on some pajamas and get to know my room, opening all the drawers, looking at all the makeup, everything. I decide not to go through that box anymore, because I still don't know how to manage everything it represents.

Once again my mother calls me and I believe it's for dinner, but when I get to the living room I find a brunette girl and a guy with red hair.

“Hi?” I nod gracelessly.

“Hi!” they return the greeting a little nervous too.

I ‘know’ who they are. Ashton and Leah. They are in several pictures in my social networks, in my hallway and on the living room furniture.

I watch the brunette with long hair, crack a huge smile. I watch her fingers tightening, like a child trying to control herself. I smile fearfully, but it was enough for her to apologize before squeezing me in a hug.

“I know you don't remember me, but I am your best friend and I am so glad that you are okay.” I look at my mother, who is smiling, and at Ashton, with my eyes wide and patting her on the back.

“Leah, you don't have to suffocate her.” Ashton comments without manner, scratching his forehead.

She walks away gracelessly. I give her a smile, but thank her for the space. Ashton approaches a little fearfully and holds out his hand, respecting my space, but it is apparent that he also wants to give me a hug.

“You can hug me, I don't bite.” I joke, trying to break the tension.

He says nothing more and surrounds me with his arms. Unlike Leah, I manage to return the hug in the right way. His hug takes longer and I feel some tears on my shoulder.

“I thought we were going to lose you.” he squeezes me one more time, before pulling away, drying his tears clumsily.

“You won't get rid of me that easily.” I blink at them both.

“Well, the reason we came here was not just to see you. Of course we were worried to death and everyone wanted to come.” Leah begins.

“But we thought it better not to come all at once so as not to frighten you.” Ashton interrupts quickly. I thank him silently.

“Deep down, we wanted to bring you this.” she hands me a pen drive. “It's not perfect, but we made a powerpoint to explain everything that happened in these three years.” Leah gives a closed smile.

‘You made a power point?” I ask incredulously.

“Of course we did!” Ashton shakes his shoulders. “We hope it helps and that you remember something. Anything at all, any questions, just call.”

“Thank you very much!” I smile in appreciation for both of them.

“Don't you want to stay for dinner?” my mother offers. I look at them expectantly. They both look at each other and give a shrug.

“We don't have an appointment, right? It won't be a problem. The guys will just be really pissed off that they didn't come.” Leah warns Ashton.

“It will be a pleasure to have dinner.” Ashton smiles in appreciation.

Dinner was very quiet, I did most of the talking. They were very curious to know what amnesia was like and how I was feeling and dealing with everything.

“Depending on how things go for you this week, we thought we would have a dinner on Friday. Then if you feel comfortable, of course, you can see everyone again.” Ash suggests.

There is still time until Friday, but just the thought of seeing everyone makes my stomach turn. I know they are my friends and they know me, but I still get nervous. Not to mention that they are famous, I don't know how to deal with these people. Although I am too.

“That's fine, we'll confirm by Friday.” I open a nervous smile. “Huh, Luke didn't want to come?” I question, upset at his absence today.

How am I supposed to get to know and get close to him if he doesn't come?

I watch the two of them look at each other and wrap up the beginning of their answer. In the end, Ashton sighs and answers.

“He is having a hard time absorbing all this. He just needs some time to sort it all out in his head.” Ash shrugs, signaling that it was no big deal.

I understand that it is hard for him. I don't know how I would handle it if I were him, but I'm not going to pretend to be upset that he's not here either, although I can't do anything about it, I'm not going to force him to stay here if he doesn't want to.

“It's really weird having Luke as my boyfriend, you guys as best friends. It's so out of reality. It feels like I'm in a dream and soon I'll wake up.” I comment, playing with the cloth napkin.

“Look, the first time you handled and accepted all of this well. I'm sure you'll manage again.” Leah squeezes my hand on the table.

“So, a powerpoint, hm?” I change the subject not being able to prolong my curiosity any longer. Even though I'm scared, I want to see it.

Leah cheers up again and begins to explain everything very excitedly. With their help we go to the living room and I put the pen drive on the TV, ready to see what they have done. It is strange to think that this small object has all the answers I am looking for. Not to mention the fear of the unknown, in this case, the forgotten one.

“Ok, so this is Michael…” I watch her standing beside the screen, explaining everything to me, with extreme patience and good will. My god, she is an angel.

I look at all my friends and the things we have done. I notice how Ashton was a kind of older brother, overprotective, and Leah was a kind of sister. Always holding hands or holding arms. Or when we were drunk, trying to climb on each other's backs.

They put all the trips we took, my fashion shows and photo shoots, some interviews. It was a great summary. I stare at the screen feeling something strange welling up in me, I see flashes forming in my head, and I begin to force myself to remember.

“Don't skip.” I shout to her, not wanting to lose the flow of memory. “Play that video again.” I ask desperately.

I approach the TV watching Noah, Leah's brother, walking in front of the camera with a bag on his head and complaining that the product was burning. He was bleaching his hair.

" “Why does this shit burn so bad?” I hear Noah shouting from the room, pissed off.

“Because it's bleaching.” I answer, grabbing another cookie from the plate. I sit down on the couch next to Calum, who is very interested in the package of bleach.

“What do you think about me bleaching mine?” he asks, still focused on the package in his hand.

I stare at him for a few minutes, trying to imagine the look. I pout, signaling that it wouldn't look too bad, in my opinion.

“For God's sake, you're not going to do that ridiculous lock of hair again, are you?” Leah shouts from the bathroom.

“It wasn't ridiculous.” He defends himself loudly. “But I really wouldn't do it again.” he comments softly, making me laugh.

“OH MY GOD.” I hear Noah scream. We run into the bathroom to find his white hair, with a few colored dots, just like the ones in the bag.

I cover my mouth in shock. Leah starts to record trying to hold in her laughter, as do I, but we simply can't stand it when Calum reads the name of the pharmacy in Noah's head.

I see him leaning against the doorframe laughing with his hand on his stomach and eyes closed. Miserably, I still try to hold in my laughter, not lasting long and joining Calum, becoming almost breathless.

“Oh man.” he dries his tears, laughing again next."

“Noah didn't want to go out anymore that night. We ordered burritos and stayed at his place. Calum and I spent the whole night laughing about it.” I speak too fast, running over a few words. I replay the scene in my head a few more times still flustered.

They both look at me and Leah starts jumping up and down in celebration. I remembered, I remembered! I start yelling at her, celebrating.

“What's wrong?” my mother comes running from the bedroom.

“I remembered. I remembered Noah with bad hair!” I shout, out of breath. The three of them hug me and again we shout.

[moonlogw]

Silver Soul pt 2

pairings: regulus x oc 

warnings: BRIEF mention of injury; in no way am I bashing the Marauders in this, I love them to pieces but I wanted to also show their immaturity over the course of the last few years as well. 

word count: 2330

summary: Celeste can’t get away from Regulus. Everywhere she turns he’s there. Eventually the burning desire to know why he won’t leave her thoughts comes to a head and she confronts him. Maybe it will work in both of their favors

pt 2 

Over the next few weeks, Celeste saw the youngest Black everywhere. It was like that now that she knew him she was aware of him. Without even thinking, she would search for him in the Great Hall or catch his eye in passing in the corridor. Not only was it frustrating but it was exhilarating because he would be looking back.

Never in her life had Celeste been actively seeking for anyone. Since she was young, Celeste had always been trying to keep the onslaught of other people’s emotions from taking over her life. But now that she knew Regulus, she wanted to continue to know him. If she tried hard enough, she could even seek out his emotions. It was thrilling to know she could control that. 

The first Hogsmeade trip had finally arrived and Pandora had made it a point to drag Celeste along with her. What Pandora had failed to mention was her new boyfriend Xenophilius Lovegood was tagging along as well. 

“Dora,” Celeste hissed when the boy had waved at them from the entrance of Three Broomsticks. “I thought you said it would be just you and me?”

“I never said that,” Pandora laughed airily and tugged Celeste along without worry. The irritated scowl she wore slipped off when they joined the taller boy and entered the pub together. 

Xenophilius was a nice guy. He was tall and pretty, with high cheekbones and long blonde hair. He was a year older than them and a Ravenclaw prefect. His blue eyes were always bright with mirth and his joy laid thick around him like a cloud. It was easy to see why Pandora fancied him. 

The pub was bustling with energy. Excitement, mischief, and glee bounced off the wet walls. Everyone was ecstatic for the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. Xenophilius lead them over to a quiet table in the back and then bounced off to get their drinks.

“Isn’t he lovely” Pandora gushed as she leaned over to clutch Celeste’s hand. 

Celeste plastered on a smile, suddenly overwhelmed with a rush of adoration. She blinked a few times to clear her mind as she nodded. “Just the best. Is he going to be with us the entire time?” She asked, trying to broach the subject and not offend her only friend.

“We planned on just touring Hogsmeade together. If you don’t want to third wheel then I completely understand.” Pandora said sincerely. It wasn’t meant to be brash, but it seemed like Pandora was brushing her off. 

Celeste just shrugged and sat back in her seat. She stared at the knots in the table with a furrowed brow. Why would Pandora invite her to Hogsmeade when she was just going to ditch her for Xenophilius? It would’ve been much more productive for her to spend the weekend with Madam Pomfrey trying to work on her control of her empathy. 

Xenophilius joined them shortly later with three Butterbeers. Celeste would’ve left but she didn't want to be rude, so she stayed and sipped at her drink at the other two fawned over each other. It wasn't Pandora’s fault. The girl was just trying to be nice. Celeste should’ve known. 

Stifled giggles erupted from the table behind them and Celeste subtly turned to see what they were all about. 

“shut it, Wormtail, or he’ll hear,” Sirius Black hissed at his friend across from him. Sirius was just an older version of his younger brother. Same gray eyes, high cheekbones, and long silky black hair. The only difference was the easy smirk that never left his face.

Celeste knew them well. A little group of four in the year above her that liked to call themselves the Marauders. Their leader, James Potter, was tall and dark with messy black hair and dangerously placed glasses. His laugh was loud and always forthcoming. Beside him at all times was Sirius Black himself. The pair were always followed by Peter Pettigrew. He was a quieter blond with giant eager blue eyes. He trailed after them like a lost puppy, always soaking up whatever shenanigan Black and Potter got into. The last, Remus Lupin, was the only one that Celeste knew personally. They both spent a lot of time in the infirmary. 

Being around Lupin was physically exhausting. The pain that one boy could hold in his body always threatened to knock her over. She could feel exactly what he felt and it was torture. She didn't know how he endured it. In her first year, after a really bad episode in her potions class, she was dropped in the infirmary in a bed next to Remus. Madam Pomfrey had no clue why Celeste wasn't resting and had no idea why she was feeling as she did. 

“I don’t understand, Minerva,” Pomfrey said, worried to the Professor. Her cold hand brushed against Celeste’s burning hot forehead. “There’s nothing wrong with her.”

Celeste clutched at her side, skin itching and raw. Her head swam with pain she didn't even know she could ever have. After slipping sleeping draught into her tea, Celeste drifted off into a fitful sleep and woke a few hours later alone and in a haze. She glanced over at the bed next to her and saw a boy sitting up, a book resting in his hands. He sucked in a deep breath, wincing in pain at the movement. Celeste winced in time with him. 

Rising from the bed, she slid back the thin curtain separating them and wavered on her feet. The boy stared at her with wide eyes, “Hello?”

“You’re hurting,” she said bluntly and pointed at him. “I feel it.”

“What?”

Celeste studied his pinched brow and the one hand pressed to his ribs. White bandages covered a large gash across his neck and two little ones were pressed to a cut on his cheek. “Your pain hurts.”

The boy blinked at her in confusion, “Yeah, I know. Its painful.”

Celeste rolled her eyes and took a step closer. “No, I feel your pain in here,” she said and pointed to both her heart and her head. “You’re also scared and angry.”

He stared at her again, at a loss for words. How did she know these things about him? It wasn't like he wore a button that said everything he was feeling.

“How do you know?”

She sighed, “I just told you, I can feel it.”

“How?” 

Celeste shrugged. “I don't know. But I guess what I'm trying to say is that you aren't alone. I'm Celeste Gallant.” She smiled weakly and extended a hand. 

The boy stared at it for a moment. He had absolutely no idea what was going on. “Remus Lupin.”

Celeste beamed and slid into the bed beside him. “Well, Remus, looks like you and I are going to be spending a lot of time together.”

And they did. Celeste usually ended up in the infirmary at least twice a week. She was usually only there to escape the sea of emotions that paraded around the school, but she always made sure she was in there during the day after the full moon. It was easier for him to have someone there who understand his pain.

Now sitting across the room from her, Remus flashed her a tiny smile and Celeste returned it. She shifted her gaze to his friends. The other three were bent over, whispering loudly and occasionally interrupted by giggles as they glanced over to a another table. Celeste followed their gaze until her eyes locked with a familiar pair.

Regulus was already watching her. It was something she had become accustomed to since the episode in charms. A question was always on his face, but he kept his distance, too afraid to ask. Celeste cocked a brow and glanced between his table and his brothers’. Regulus was joined by boys he called his friends, other Slytherins who kept their distance from Celeste and Pandora for the most part, but had no qualms about hexing the table of giggling boys.

Severus Snape was on his left as Barry Crouch Jr sat to his right. Avery, Mulciber, and Evan Rosier completed the circle. They were all caught up in their own conversations, oblivious to the plotting of the Marauders. Celeste wasn’t sure she wanted to be there when the plan erupted, and she was sure it would erupt.

Downing the rest of her Butterbeer, she took one last look at the scheming boys and cocked a brow to Regulus. He was already watching her and copied her movements, turning to whisper something to his friends.

“Hey, Dora,” Celeste whispered, tapping her cousins arm. Pandora turned to her with a smile. “I just remembered I have to go get new quills, meet you back at the dorm later?”

“Do you want us to come with you?” Xenophilius asked, already reaching to gather his things.

Celeste gave them a grin and shook her head. “No need, but thank you. You too have fun.”

Pandora stared at her for a moment, blue eyes studying her face, but she must have found what she was looking for because she gave her a gentle smile. “Oh course. Be safe.”

Celeste followed her gaze to both the table of Slytherins and the Marauders. Tensions between the two groups have always been high, increasingly so as rumors of war continue to blossom. With one last smile, Celeste rose from her chair and zigzagged her way through the mobs of students bubbling about their summers. Bursting out into the early October air, Celeste pushed past newcomers and ducked into the little alcove of the shop next door. She crossed her arms over her chest as she waited. Moments later, the door of the pub bursted back open and the shrill laughs and conversation from inside spilled out onto the street.

Stepping out of the alcove, Celeste met the eye of the boy she couldn’t stop thinking about. He was dressed in dark green robes, hair combed neatly to the side. It was very different from Celeste’s loose blue jeans and tucked in button up. She was starting to understand the vast differences of his Pure-blood raising. Pushing that aside, Celeste cocked her head.

“Why do you keep staring at me?” She asked, not even giving a hello to buffer her assault.

Regulus blinked at her, surprised by the bluntness. He tucked one hand into the pocket of his robe and glanced around. Hogsmeade was bustling with people. Witches and Wizards were going about their daily business as school kids giggles and talked all throughout the street. No one even passed a glance to the pair.

“You are the most unique person I’ve ever met,” Regulus answered, gray eyes unrelenting to give up anything else. Celeste remained silent, needing a little bit more than that. “I have never met anyone like you. Ever.”

“So you’ve said.”

Regulus pursed his lips and took a step forward. “Do you understand how rare you are? The Ministry classifies Empath’s as extraordinary individuals, high up there along with seers.” His gaze shifted around them again before he leaned in. “They require registration for it.”

Celeste furrowed her brow. If this was the case, then why hadn’t Dumbledore or Pomfrey told her any of this. They were the most intellectual Wizards she knew, yet they had failed to mention this extremely crucial part. It was almost as important as the werewolf registry. Another way to control her when she didn’t have control herself.

“How much do you know about this?” Celeste asked, gulping down the lump of panic in her throat. “How much do you know about me?”

“My parents have all these books at home about literally everything,” Regulus explained. “After my brother-“ he trailed off, hands tightening in his robes before shaking his head. “I had a lot of free time and spent my holidays reading. In class the other day when you snapped on me,” he chuckled lightly and gave her a tiny smile. “It struck. If you want I can show you them. I’m sure the library has all kind of literature on it.”

Celeste was stunned. No one had ever been this concerned about her before. Not even her parents. They were all along the edges of Pandora. It was a gift, don’t question it. But how could Celeste not question it when it consumed her day.

Clenching her jaw, Celeste stared at him. She could feel the excitement brimming underneath his worry. Worry that she wouldn’t expect. But there was something else.

“In turn, what do you desire?” She asked, knowing that no one ever offered their help freely.

Regulus gave her a shy smile. “Um, I just want to know if my brother hates me.”

“What?”

That was not what she had expected him to say. More along the lines of blackmail, use this to hurt somebody or something. But he just wanted something as simple as that? Regulus ducked his head, toeing the cobblestones beneath them. Shame coursed through him, but why. What was he ashamed of? Caring for his brother? But just underneath it was overwhelming loneliness. Celeste frowned.

“You miss him.”

He didn’t even try to deny it. Not that he could lie to her anyway. He kept his eyes on the ground as he nodded. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you why,” he started softly and lifted his head. “But I just need to know if he hates me.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t-“

“I need to know, Celeste. For sure.” The burning intensity of his gaze had her agreeing before she could even think.

“Okay, I’ll help you.” Celeste said.

If not to be kind then at least to understand what she was dealing with. For once in her lifetime, someone else was extending the branch out to her. Regulus was giving the the opportunity to have her own freedom. To have control over this power she had.

Who was she to deny that?

[ambiguoslyambitious]

Chapter Three: (Overdue) Introductions PT. I

Author: ambiguoslyambitious (me!)

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,839

Summary: Today's the day that Bela will finally make her debut in Pelican Town and meet some of the townspeople. Will she be able to salvage her reputation or has her fresh start already began to expire?

“Wait, so you’re telling me that the townspeople have been trying to welcome me all week?” Bela lowered her eyes in shame, her face reddening once again. Yoba, they must think I’m some stuck up city bitch.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Victor answered reassuringly. “However, none of us knew that you were...hearing impaired.” Victor rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish look sweeping across his face. Something Mayor Lewis failed to mention. Thanks a lot.

“Oh, Yoba,” Bela shook her head. “The whole town must think that I’m so rude.” So much for a fresh start. Maybe I should just become a hermit. No socialization. Just me and Mother Nature.

“Don’t worry! I’m sure we can clear this all up.” Suddenly, Victor’s dark eyes brightened. “Would you like to accompany me into town? I know that my mother wanted to invite you over to our residence for dinner. I-if you aren’t too busy, that is.” He quickly looked away, cheeks flooded with pink.

“Oh, uh,” Bela also averted her gaze briefly. “T-that would be lovely.” Shit, meeting the mom already.

Victor shot her a sheepish grin. “Splendid! Hopefully, we’ll be able to run into a few of the townspeople and try to salvage your reputation.”

The pair proceeded to exit the farmhouse.

“I must say, Bela,” Victor said, sweeping his gaze across the farm. “You’ve done a magnificent job so far.”

“Thank you,” Bela responded shyly. "I admit, I hadn't realized how much this old farm had gone into ruin." She stared out sadly out towards the other islands she hadn't reached yet, remembering when the farm was bustling with activity. And I still have so much work left to do.

Sensing her sadness, Victor tried to lighten the mood. "You used to visit this farm, right?"

"Yeah," Bela gave a sad smile. "When I was a kid, I used to spend the entire summer here, helping Grandfather tend to the chickens and cows, and watering the crops each morning."

"Sounds like you two were close."

"Not really," Bela admitted. "Summertime was the only time I got to see Grandfather. He and my father weren't very close. The last summer I spent here was ten years ago. Before he got sick and..." Her eyes welled up with tears.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Victor apologized, looking over at her worried. "I don't mean to remind you of such sorrowful things."

"It's fine," Bela offered a half-smile. She brought her gaze up to the bright afternoon sky, taking in the sweet scent of grass and the warm spring breeze. "Not all of my memories of him are sad. I know that there were really great times that are just easy to forget now that he's gone."

This time, Victor was the one to offer a half-smile. "I suppose it is easier to remember the bad times. Remembering the good times forces you to remember how much you miss the ones you've lost."

“HELLO, VICTOR!” called out a frantic, yet cheerful voice. “OH MY YOBA, IS THAT THE NEW FARMER? HI!” A bubbly young woman, adorn in bubblegum pink rushed over to meet them on the dirt path across from the defunct bus stop heading towards town.

“Tabitha, this is Bela.” Victor smiled, knowing that Tabitha was one of the friendliest people in town to meet. She had a habit of making even the grumpiest people smile. Thank Yoba, we've run into Tabitha. She can quickly turn around this somber conversation.

“Hi, Bela! It’s so nice to meet you!” Tabitha giggled, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “My twin brother Theo and I moved here a year ago and run The Stray Café across from the bus stop. Hopefully, you’ll be able to meet him soon, though he isn’t much of a socializer.”

“Hi, Tabitha.” Bela smiled unconsciously, the young woman’s happy energy was infectious.

“Those are cool headphones!” Tabitha said, taking notice of the devices in Bela’s ears. “Listening to any good music?”

Victor quickly glanced over at Bela before responding. “Um, Tabitha. Those aren’t headph-”

“These are actually hearing aids.” Bela interrupted.

Suddenly, Tabitha’s face fell. “I’m so sorry! I hope that I didn’t offend you!” The poor woman looked close to tears. Yoba, how can I be so stupid and insensitive?! Theo always tells me to never assume. I'm sure she hates me now.

“It’s ok!” Bela quickly reassured the young lady. “It’s an honest mistake.”

Tabitha visibly relaxed at Bela's words, letting out a sigh of relief. "Good, I'm glad that I didn't ruin our chances of becoming best friends."

"Hold on," Victor laughed. "Who says that I'm not already Bela's best friend?"

Tabitha rolled her eyes playfully. "I guess then we will all just have to be besties."

Bela let out a laugh, with the pair soon joining in. Maybe meeting the townspeople will go more smoothly than I thought. At least I 've managed to make friends with these two.

"So, besties," Tabitha glanced between Victor and Bela. "Where are you guys headed?"

"I was just bringing Bela into town to meet everyone." Victor responded. "My mother invited her over for dinner and I figured that I would take her to the saloon afterwards."

"That's a good idea. Why don't you guys come with me to Pierre's first?"

"Sure," Victor nodded. Then he looked over at Bela sheepishly. "That is, if it's ok with you."

Bela smiled at them. "Yeah, that's fine. You guys know the town better than me."

_____________________________________________________________

The trio continued their way into town, heading east towards Pierre’s General Store. As they entered the store, Pierre looked up from the catalogue he was reading at the register.

“It’s farmer Bela!” Pierre greets excitedly. “Welcome to Pierre’s! If you’re looking to buy seeds, my shop is the place to go.” Finally, a new customer.

Bela offered a small smile. “Thank you, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” Bela’s eyes swung around the small shop, taking note of the tall shelves filled with different kinds of seeds. Small containers held fresh produce with labels containing the names of all the local farms.

“I’ll also purchase whatever produce you make on your farm for a good price.” Pierre’s grin became slightly more forced as he continued making his sales pitch. Hopefully, this city kid will be able to produce crops worth selling. Can't be any worse than anything Andy brings.

“Hopefully, I’ll have something worthy to sell soon.” Bela awkwardly joked. “ Yoba, this guy is intense.

To the right of the counter, a door suddenly slammed open. Pierre rolled his eyes as a purple-headed figure stepped out looking annoyed.

“Really, Abigail?” Pierre glared at her.

Abigail shot back a similarly annoyed look. “What? You know the door gets stuck. It’s not a big deal.”

She dramatically rolled her eyes, walking towards the exit. She shot a quick glance at Victor and nodded, coming to a stop once she laid eyes on the new farmer, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Who are you?”

Victor smiled, seemingly unperturbed by the young woman’s rudeness. “Abigail, this is Bela, the new farmer.”

“Hi,” Bela waved awkwardly. Well, she definitely doesn’t like me.

“Oh, I heard someone was moving into that old farm,” Abigail said, looking Bela up and down without meeting her eyes. “A shame, I liked exploring around there.” Without another word, Abigail walked out of the store.

“Ms. Rivers?” called out a small, quiet voice from the right. Bela could barely hear the man even with her hearing aids turned on. She turned to look over and was surprised to see a tall man, with thick glasses and an even thicker moustache. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Harvey Hickey, the local doctor.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Hickey.”

“Please, call me Dr. Harvey.” He offered an awkward smile. “I work, well and live, in the clinic next door with Paul, the town’s optometrist.” Suddenly his ears burned red. “A-as roommates of course!”

Bela just smiled politely. And they were roommates.

“Uh,” Harvey rubbed the back of his head nervously. “Well, um, please, uh, make sure to, uh, schedule your annual check up at, uh, some point. It was, uh, nice to meet you.” He awkwardly made his way up the register, a simple protein bar in hand.

"Well, I've got to pick up some things for the café," Tabitha said with a smile. "I'll see you guys around!"

"You're not coming to the saloon?" Bela furrowed her eyebrows.

"Oh, uh," Tabitha started stammering nervously. "T-that's not, uh, really my scene." I hope Bela doesn't think I'm lame.

"That's fine," Bela replied reassuringly. "Since we're neighbors, I'm sure we'll be seeing each other often. I'll try and visit the café soon."

"Oh, you should! I can't wait to introduce you to my brother!" Tabitha's eyes lit up once again. “Bye. Bela! Bye, Victor!” Tabitha waved goodbye, as she proceeded to gather supplies for the café.

"Well," Victor said, a hint of nervousness creeping into his usually calm voice. "Now it's time to meet my mother."

_____________________________________________________________

Bela and Victor exited the store, making their way east to the Jenkins’ Residence, which happened to be located directly next to Pierre's General Store.

“I told you this would be a short walk.” Victor smiled as they approached the giant, two-story manor which was painted a beautiful shade of robin’s egg blue. Bela’s eyes widened at the vastness of the manor, whose front entrance was guarded by a set of beautiful bronze gates.

Victor pushed the gate open and gestured for Bela to head inside. She followed the ornate crystal path until she reached a set of giant oak doors.

“Allow me.” Victor again held open the door for Bela, who stood in the entryway desperately trying to take in all the grandeur. Directly across from her was a beautiful wooden staircase, hinting that more beauty was yet to be seen. To her left was the living room, adorned in rich red and gold curtains and rugs. To her right, a kitchen with a large mahogany table sat with matching chairs.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful in here.” Bela’s eyes glowed with wonder.

“Why, thank you.” called out a sultry, yet sophisticated voice. An elegantly dressed woman appeared to cascade down the stairs effortlessly. “You must be Ms. Bela Rivers.” The woman extended a hand in greeting, which Bela immediately took.

“Yes, it is nice to meet you, Mrs. Jenkins.” Bela smiled nervously. I can’t believe this is Victor’s mother.

“Please, call me Olivia.” She gave a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Is this really the same girl who ignored Caroline and Jodi? She seems polite enough.

“Well, Olivia,” Bela said awkwardly. “Thank you for inviting me over. I appreciate your hospitality.”

“Don’t worry, Bela.” Victor chimed in. “My mother loves any opportunity to entertain guests.”

”Well, I wouldn’t want this manor to go to waste!” Olivia gives a dry laugh. “Let’s head over to the kitchen.” She quickly turned on her heels and elegantly strutted away. Victor offered a small smile to Bela before following his mother.

As the pair took their seats, Olivia brought a large platter with a covering on top of it.

“What fine dish have you prepared this time, Mother?”

“Well, since, I heard that our guest used to live in Zuzu City,” Olivia smiled coyly as she lifted the top. “ I decided to prepare pan-seared butterfish over a plate of assorted vegetables from the garden.”

Both Bela and Victor stared at the platter in absolute wonder. The butterfish was a brilliant shade of gold, contrasting the rich greens of the cabbage and lettuce underneath.

“This looks amazing!” Bela exclaimed, remembering the holidays when her mother would prepare this. Her heart tinged with sadness, as her eyes began burning with unshed tears. I need to think about something else.

“Is something troubling you dear?” Olivia asked inquisitively, eyes narrowing as she glanced over the newcomer. She noticed a faint glint emitting from Bela’s ear, eyes widening in realization. She's deaf! That's why no one's been able to get in contact with her. Can't wait to clear that up with the ladies.

“Oh, i-it’s nothing.” Bela offered a flicker of a smile before lowering her gaze.

Olivia shot her son a look, to which Victor responded by shrugging.

“Perhaps,” Victor looked between his mother and Bela. “I should pour us each a glass of wine.”

Olivia nodded, stealing another glance at Bela. “Why don’t you grab some pomegranate wine from the cellar? I’m sure the tartness will compliment the sweetness of the butterfish wonderfully.” The young woman also nodded in agreement. Oh, Victor, please don't leave me alone with your mom. There's just something scary about her.

Victor glanced over at Bela once more. “Of course. I’ll be just a moment.” He gracefully walked away from the table, disappearing down the stairs of the cellar.

“So, Bela,” Olivia clasped her hands together. “What brings you to Pelican Town?”

“Well,” Bela nervously met the older woman’s gaze. “I decided that I wanted a fresh start.” Bela purposely kept her answer vague. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to talk about her parents just yet.

“A fresh start?” Olivia’s gaze hardened. There must be something this girl is running from. Why else would she need a fresh start so young?

“Yes,” Bela responded, meeting her gaze. “I found that life in Zuzu City just wasn’t for me anymore.”

Olivia’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “But, what about your career? If I’m not mistaken, I heard that you had a very promising job at Joja in their corporate office.”

“I did.” Bela responded. “However, I’ve found the work to be...unfulfilling.”

Olivia’s eyes widened and she leaned back in surprise, a hand raised up against her chest. “Unfulfilling? By Yoba, I spent thirty years working my way to become an accounting manager and accumulating all of this.” She gestured with her hand carelessly.

“Mother,” Victor chided, walking up the stairs from the cellar with a dark red bottle. “Not everyone wants to be a corporate monkey.”

“Didn’t this corporate monkey earn enough to give you a full-ride to one of the finest universities in the entirety of the Ferngill Republic?” Olivia shot back, her tone icy.

“Yes, Mother,” Victor’s tone softened considerably, as he began pouring the wine, “But, money shouldn’t be the only thing you work for.” Why can't she understand that money isn't everything?

“Oh, really?” Olivia retorted, condescendingly taking a sip. “But was it not money that afforded you this life of privilege?”

The room suddenly went silent. Well, this has gotten awkward, Bela thought to herself, her fork lazily moving some of the greens in front of her.

Victor's jaw clenched, struggling to maintain his composure. Why can't my mother just realize that I'm not trying to be ungrateful. I just want to be happy.

"I recently lost my parents," Bela said quietly, interrupting the momentary silence. "A-and I didn't know what to do with myself. One day, I just found this envelope from my grandfather that said that one day I'd be in need of change and that I had this farm for when I needed it."

Victor gently placed a hand on her shoulder, as she fought to keep tears from streaming down her face. "I'm sorry for your loss, Bela."

"I'm sorry." Olivia said, glassy-eyed as well. She quickly grabbed a napkin, dabbing her eyes delicately. "Part of the reason why Victor and I moved to Pelican Town was due to my husband's...passing." Yoba, I should've been more sympathetic instead of interrogating this poor girl. I should've recognized that she was also going through loss.

Victor exchanged a somber look with his mother before looking back over at Bela. He reached over and grabbed his glass, raising it up in a toast. "To new beginnings."

Bela and Olivia followed in suit, each taking a long gulp of wine to help assuage some of the emotional pain caused by their respective grief.

_____________________________________________________________

"Well, that could have gone more smoothly," Victor shook his head as he and Bela left the manor for the saloon.

"It certainly was an interesting dinner," Bela responded gently. The rest of the dinner had been eaten in an awkward silence. "Your mom is a really good cook." And an even better interrogator. Maybe she volunteered part-time at the Zuzu City PD?

"Yeah, well she's usually an even better host." His eyes looked apologetic as they met Bela's. "I'm really sorry for the way dinner turned out. My mother can be...a lot."

Bela gave him a smile, playfully pushing his arm, "Don't even worry about it. I'm already making memories in this town."

Victor pushed open the thick oak door of The Stardrop Saloon, a barrage of sounds and smells overwhelming the new farmer. Bela was hit with the warm, bitter scent of beer as a jaunty folk tune played in the background, accompanied by the sounds of glasses clinking and laughter.

“Why if it isn’t the new farmer, Ms. Bela Rivers,” a kind voice greeted. “Welcome to The Stardrop Saloon! What can I get for ya?”

“Hello, Gus,” Victor smiled, taking a seat at the bar and gesturing for Bela to join him. “Why don’t we just take two glasses of wine to start?” The mustached man glanced over at Bela.

“Uh, yes,” Bela smiled. “Thank you.”

Victor leaned closer and whispered in her ear, his breath warm and gentle, “I hope you don’t mind me ordering for you. I figured you’d want to still be coherent while meeting some more of the townspeople.” He let out a small chuckle as he pulled away.

“What,” Bela teased, as her cheeks turned pink. “You think I can’t handle more than a couple glasses of wine?”

Before he could respond, a perky blue-haired woman arrived back with the two glasses of wine in hand. “Here you go!” She gently placed them before the pair. As Victor reached for his wallet, Emily gently shook her head, “This one’s on the house.”

She turned to face Bela, her blue eyes glowing with kindness. “Hello, Bela, I’m Emily!” Ooh, she has a nice aura. I'm sure we'll be good friends.

Bela smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

“Well, if it isn’t the new farmer,” came a sultry voice from the right of the bar. A beautiful woman slid onto the barstool next to Bela, while Emily placed a glass of wine in front of her.

“Yeah, I’m Bela,” Bela responded, still taking in the woman’s striking appearance. Her face was like a porcelain doll’s, smooth and pale with only a single mole marking her otherwise unblemished skin. Something about her seems familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.

The woman extended her hand, a mischievous glint in her dark eyes. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Shiko.”

Bela’s eyes widened in partial recognition. “Shiko? Shiko Takahashi?”

Shiko smiled back dryly. “Ah, so you have heard of me. Makes sense since I heard you’re from the city.”

“What's a model doing here?” Bela’s jaw dropped.

“ Former model,” Shiko flipped her dark locks over her shoulder carelessly. “I decided to retire and live the simple life.” She smiled at Bela, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Kind of like you, huh?”

Bela returned the smile. “Something like that.”

Victor raised his glass, taking a careful sip before looking over at Bela. “Well, it’s always a pleasure seeing you, Shiko. If you don’t mind, I’d like to introduce Bela to some of my friends.”

The pair got up from their stools, heading over to what appeared to be a game room. Two old school arcade games greeted them at the entrance, where the angsty, purple haired teen was violently shaking the joysticks and shooting out creative combos of curse words.

“Obviously, you’ve already met Abigail.”

The girl shot a dirty look at Bela. “Victor, you done showing the new girl around? I need your help. I can’t get past this damn level.”

Victor rolled his eyes. “I was just bringing BELA over to meet everyone.” Why does Abigail ALWAYS have to be so fucking rude?

Bela gave an awkward smile as Abigail turned her attention back to the game in front of her. What is this girl’s problem with me?

“Bela?” Suddenly, a messy-haired blonde was standing right in front of her, his eyes gleaming with recognition. “Yo, Sebby, it's really her!” His arms quickly enveloped Bela into a tight hug, lifting her off the ground. It took everything in her to not spill any wine as the young man gently rocked her.

When he finally put her down, Bela was overcome with memories of her young self playing at the beach with a pair of blonde and black-haired boys. “Sam?”

His green eyes glowed with happiness. “Wow, I can’t believe it’s been, what, like ten years?” He looked over to the pool table where the raven-haired fellow was still poised with a billiards stick. “Fuck the game, Seb, come over here, it’s our Bela!”

Sebastian flinched when Sam said “our Bela”. Abigail’s head whipped over, shooting a venomous glare at Bela. “What do you mean, ‘our Bela’? I thought she just got here.”

Sam shook his head. “Don’t you remember? Bela used to visit every summer when we were kids.” Suddenly, Sam burst out into laughter.

Abigail’s eyes narrowed defensively, “What’s so funny?”

“Of course you don’t remember,” Sam managed to choke out. “You were too busy being besties with Haley.”

Even Sebastian let out a small laugh as Abigail’s pale face turned beet red. “Whatever, that was a long time ago.”

“Well,” Victor smiled, breaking the awkward tension that was beginning to form. “I hadn’t realized that you already knew each other.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sam smirked mischievously. “Bela and Seb knew each other REALLY well.”

Both Bela and Sebastian flushed red, ears burning hot. Abigail looked over in curiosity, annoyance written all over her face. What the fuck does that mean?

Victor raised an eyebrow quizzically, glancing between the two. “Really?”

“Sam,” Sebastian rolled his eyes, the red refusing to leave his face. “Why do you have to be such an ass?” I bet she doesn't even remember.

Bela looked over at Victor sheepishly. “It was just a middle school fling. We were kids.” I doubt Seb even remembers.

Victor burst out into laughter, while Bela and Sebastian bore similar mortified expressions. Sam joined Victor in laughter, with Abigail continuing to shoot death glares at Bela.

"So," Bela said in an attempt to break the awkwardness. "How've you been, Seb?" Yoba, I don't know what to say to him.

Sebastian avoided Bela's gaze, preferring to maintain eye contact with the wooden floors. "Oh, you know, nothing's new." Dammit Sam! Why'd you have to bring THAT up?

"Seems like there's been quite a few changes since I've been here."

"Yeah," Sebastian nodded, stealing a glance at her. "But, most things are still the same." Like how much I've missed you.

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Tinker Bell and Grumpy Girl

Alex x OFC (Sabina)

Word Count: 5051

Warnings: Profanity, CORNY, inaccurate descriptions of Ireland and professional camera’s 😅

AN: So I never thought I'd write something like this. Obviously I don't know these people in real life, but I must admit it was fun and it passes the time. This came about from the many conversations I've had with @didiintheblog. This is dedicated to her! 💙(Hope you like it) I may work on another part, but for now, this is it. Also, I know next to nothing about Ireland, to which i apologize for in advance. I’ve tagged those I think might be interested. Also, no face claim, because I’m lazy. I hope you all enjoy 💙

...

Her eyes follow the rising foam bubbles as she swirls the dark drink around her chilled glass, completely distracted. She blinks, her contacts irritating her eyes. She wished she'd remembered to bring her damn eyedrops.

"Sabina, what's wrong?" Her sister plants her hand over the rim of her beer, stopping her movements. She shifts her eyes lazily to look at the offender, brows knitting in a sort of confusion.

"What? Nothing."

"We’re at a pub in Ireland for fucksake! Can you maybe smile a bit? Could you do that for me?" Her sister, clearly over her shit, purses her lips, slowly removing her manicured fingers from the glass, "Don't waste your Guinness. That's like holy water here." Sabina rolls her eyes with a sigh, lifting the glass to her lips before chugging the dark, hoppy beer in one go. She wipes her lips with the back of her hand, letting out a low belch that had her sister giggling.

"Happy?" She croaks, pushing the empty glass towards her.

"Good girl." Her sister smiles, rushing to finish her own beer.

“So when is this guy supposed to get here?” Sabina drum’s her fingers over the table top, littered with water droplets from their sweating pilsners.

“His name is Danny, and he said he’d be here soon.”

“He could be a creep.”

“He’s not.”

“You met him online, how would you know?”  

“Shut up.” Her sister mutters, keeping her eyes on the door in search of the man that she only knew by photo. After deciding he still needed a few minutes, she scans around the quaint little pub, her eyes falling on someone in particular that made her eyes twinkle.

*Gemma," Sabina warns, "You got that look in your eyes. Cut it out."

"He's cute though," The older sister giggles, "And so are his friends."

"You forgot about Danny already?" Sabina grunts, “Whatever, go get him.”

"Oh, I would, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in me at all. He's looking at you." Sabina jerks to look at Gemma before snorting, leaning back against the wooden chair with arms crossed.

"I'm being serious!" Gemma giggles, "Go look, he's to your left, but don't make it obvious!" Sabina sighs, but shifts her eyes to view whoever it was through her peripheral, but that proved challenging, so she turns her head completely and-

Oh.

Could a pair of eyes ever be so blue?

"He's cute right? Look at that hair, God, Sabina!" He offers her a toothy smile before focusing on the animated conversation his friends were having.

“He’s okay.” Sabina shrugs, lying right through her teeth. Gemma rolls her eyes, leaning forward to get a good look at her.

“If I’m gunna get laid, so are you. There’s only so much tinder can do for you.”

“I didn’t come here to get laid! I came here for you!”

“Which I will forever be grateful for, sister,” Gemma rolls her eyes, “You might as well. He’s hot.” Sabina looks to her left again, watching this hot mystery guy laugh as he spoke with his hands. Whatever he said must have been funny since all his peers roared with laughter, but they must have been halfway intoxicated by now, empty pilsners and shot glasses taking up every inch of their table.

But Gemma was right, even his friends were pretty attractive, probably not as good looking as him in her opinion, but still very attractive. Even the two blondes that sat with them were pretty. It was just a table full of pretty people.

He seemed to hit it off with the ladies too, as not only one of the blondes at his table was vying for his attention, but a couple of other girls as well, seemingly going up to him and squealing ridiculously. Sometimes the squealing girls would go over to the other guys sitting around him, babbling some nonsense, but the live music made it hard to actually hear what they were saying.

Eventually the handsome mystery man turns to her again, as if sensing her stares, winking at her with this little smirk on his face that made her scowl and her heart beat faster at the same time. Sabina turns away quickly, pretending to distract herself with her phone, taping the black screen like an idiot.

“He looks oddly familiar.” She mutters, tossing her phone on the table with little care.

“Yeah, that’s because you see him in your dreams,” Her sister says with a laugh, and before Sabina could retaliate, Gemma reaches over to grip tightly at her wrist, “There he is!” She suddenly squeals, “Danny!”

Well, at least he looked exactly like his photos. Dark hair and blue eyes, and this little gap between his teeth, he was a catch.

“Gemma?” He says her sister's name with a timid smile, the Irish accent strong, yet extremely charming. They hug, and Gemma introduces her to him. They had chemistry already, which was cute considering they met online. The trip to Ireland was meant for them to meet, and since Gemma didn’t want to travel alone, she dragged Sabina with her. Sometimes it felt as if Gemma were the younger sister at times, but Sabina would do anything for her, regardless of age difference.

Dublin had been charming so far, the city had something archaic about it. She might as well enjoy the trip, already deciding the things she wanted to do. They could cover a lot of ground in a month, though Sabina realized that much of her sightseeing would probably be alone as her sister would be caught up with Dublin Danny.

After a few minutes of watching Gemma and Danny talk animatedly with each, their chairs turned towards each other and their knees touching, Sabina decided to order them a round of drinks before stepping out. The pub was hot and she wanted to enjoy the fresh air that wasn’t available to her back home in her polluted city. Leaning against the wall of the pub she watches Dublin’s nightlife commence, young people coming out to party on such a lovely Saturday night. Open signs now flickered on and street lamps began to light up the cobblestone streets.

“Cigarette?” An accented voice asked her, a box of some foreign brand of cigarette in her line of vision. Pushing her hair behind her ear she looks to the person who offered her the sickly stick. Blue eyed, bun-boy was smiling down at her, his eyes a bit glossy, no doubt from all the beer he and his friends were chugging.

“Um, no, thanks. I’m good.” She replies, watching him pull out a pair of shades, shielding his eyes from...whatever it was that was bothering him at night. What an ass.

“You’re here on holiday, yeah?” He places a cigarette between his lips, putting away the rest in his pocket. Lighting it, he takes a drag, inhaling the toxic fumes before releasing it over his shoulder and away from her.

Sabina couldn’t even answer the question by how entranced she was with his simple movements. He didn’t even sound Irish, or maybe she just wasn’t good with accents. He raises a brow, waiting for her to answer, and she clears her throat, turning to look away from him in favor of counting the lines between each cobblestone under her booted feet.

“Uh, yeah, holiday.”

“You’re American.” He states, inhaling more of his cigarette. After finishing half, he smashes the tip against the wall before putting the remainder back in the box. He was so fluid in his motions, anything he did seemed unreal.

“Is it that obvious?” Crossing her arms, she tilts her face in an attempt to make some type of eye contact with him. He was tall, very tall, and very lean. She could tell he was fit from the tightness of his white t-shirt and how it molded over his body like one of those white marble statues you’d see at museums. He was incredibly attractive.

“You Americans have a very distinct accent,” He smiles at her, showing off his pearly white teeth, “I have to admit, I think it’s pretty attractive.”

“Yeah, okay.” Sabina snorts, cracking a smile. He seemed to enjoy that reaction from her, and his smile grows as he leans a bit closer to her. Ahh, he was even cuter up close, even with those stupid shades on.

“Absolutely. It’s charming, really.” He grins.

“Where are you from?” She finally asks him, fiddling with the frayed ends of her distressed shorts.

“Denmark.”

“Denmark?” That explains the accent, “I don’t know anyone from Denmark.”

“And I don’t know anyone from America. I’m Alex, it’s a pleasure to meet you…?” Sabina cocks her head, letting out the tiniest huff of laughter. The guy was cute and a smooth talker.

“Sabina.”

“Sabina,” He repeats, testing the name in his mouth like a new delicacy at a fancy restaurant, “That’s a beautiful name.” Again, he smiles charmingly at her, lowering his shades so that his eyes could peek out from over the black frames, “French?”

“Italian.” She rolls her eyes, more for show than anything else. God, this guy was cute. What the fuck was he doing talking to her? Before he could answer with what she assumed was another charming reply, someone else interrupts him.

“Alex,” One of the blonde girls steps out, rubbing her arms to warm herself from the evening chill, “You coming back? You’re missing the stories.” The blonde looks at Sabina, offering her a weird smile before bringing her eyes back to Alex, “Well?”

He lets out the most dramatic sigh, as if highly inconvenienced, lolling his head to the side to look at her, “I’ll be right there, Alicia.” The blonde nods, giving Sabina one last glance before heading back in the pub.

“Girlfriend, huh?”

“Uh, no, not really. No.” He seemed frustrated, already digging into his pocket in search of his pack.

“Right, well, it was nice speaking with you, Alex,” Sabina pushes herself off the wall with little grace, untying her denim jacket from around her waist and draping it over her shoulders, “I’m gonna head inside. You probably should too.”

“Wait,” He says quickly, grabbing a hold of her wrist, “I’d love to see you again.” She turns back to look at him, brows furrowing. She didn't even shake off his grip, too distracted by his lovely face.

“I’m not in Ireland long.”

“Neither am I. Doesn’t mean we can’t meet up when we have the chance.” He offers her that smile again, super charming, and probably a Scandinavian thing. For a moment, she’s stunned, and for once, her sister might not have been wrong about her assumption. “Let me take down your number.”

“I-uhh, fine.” She finally relents, holding her hand out so that he may hand her his phone. Alex’s grins, digging into the back pocket of his jeans and fishing out his phone, slapping it right into her open palm. She quickly taps in her number, thinking she might be fucking crazy for doing so, but whatever. If he was crazy, she’d block him and that would be the end of it.

“Why thank you, beautiful, you will not regret it.” He gives her a little bow and she laughs with a shake of her head.

“I hope I don’t.” Leaving him to smoke the remainder of his cigarette, she sits back at the table with Gemma and Danny, who were so engrossed in their conversation that they barely noticed her. She leans back against the chair, feeling eyes on her. When she turned, it was that blonde, Alicia, looking at her with a curious expression. Sabina shrugs it off, ordering herself a glass of wine, sipping the drink quite happily. Alex makes it back to his table and the wild chatter and laughter begins again. It was hard not to look in his direction, but she couldn’t help it.

Again, she noticed how these random girls would come up to the table, starting mindless conversations with him and the others, and the Alicia girl was all over him. It made her wonder why he’d even ask for her number in the first place. He seemed to enjoy the attention women gave him though, even allowing one to play with his long, luscious hair. There was a lot of photo taking too, with his friends, with that Alicia girl, with those other random girls. Whenever the conversation or attention would shift away from him for even a moment, he’d literally pout. It was weird, and it bothered her.

Who the hell was this guy?

After a while, she got bored of watching Gemma and Danny and Alex and his attention issues.

“Yo, Gemma, I’m out. It’s late, I think I’m still jet lagged, I’m gonna head to the hotel.”

“Are you sure?” Her sister asks, “What about him?” She jerks her chin towards Alex.

“Attention whore,” She mutters with a shrug, “Too good to be true. I’ll see you at the hotel. It was nice meeting you Danny.”

“Likewise.” He says in his pretty Irish drawl.

“Be careful!” Gemma shouts as Sabina smacks money onto the table.

“I’ll be fine, it’s round the corner. Bye.” Waving them off, she totally ignores Alex who was already watching her, probably expecting some kind of farewell.

“Sabina, hey, wait up!” She hears him call after her, easily catching up with her pace, “Let me walk you to your hotel.” His shades were resting atop his hair, and she got a better look at his sparkling eyes.

“I wouldn’t want to keep you from you cheerleaders.” She responds, searching her pockets for her headphones. She needed to listen to music and ignore him.

“Wait, what?” He asks dumbfounded, “What are you talking about?” So he was gunna act fucking stupid?

“And you can delete my number as well, you won’t be needing it.”

“Woah, what? Stop-hold on, Wait!” Alex jogs in front of her, halting her measured steps.

“Look Tinker Bell, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I really don’t want to get mixed up in whatever mess you have going on with all those chicks.” Confused, he steps in front of her when she attempts to maneuver herself around him.

“Tinker Bell?” He snorts, “What? I thought we hit it off well!”

“You and a whole bunch of people hit it off well. You’re a ladies man right? I’ve been around your type before,” She crosses her arms, “Granted, they were never Danish, but still, you’re all the same. Tinker Bell’s.”

“What does that even mean?” He pleads, stepping in her way again like some kind of football goalie. She huffs, crossing her arms again and stomping her foot.

“Peter Pan’s little fairy friend? The one that dies if she gets no attention? Yeah, a Tinker Bell, that’s you.”

“Totally not true!” His Danish accent was more prominent now that he was pleading, “I’m just dashing.” Well that didn’t help. It was almost kinda cute, but she shakes her head, pushing past him.

“Yep, it is. It was a pleasure, Alex.” He watches her leave, stomping down the road in those cute shorts. He sighs. At least he still had her number.

…

“Come on, Gemma! Trinity College!”

“It sounds boring.”

“But the Book of Kells is there!”

“I don’t care.” Gemma snorts, leaning against the wall as she sipped on her coffee.

“So you bring me out here for your benefit, but won’t do a single thing that I want to do? You’re a terrible sister.” Sabina grunts, dramatically flinging herself onto the plush sofa.

“Don’t you want to go shopping? Buy some souvenirs for Cat, mom and dad?”

“We can still do that, it’s not like I’m denying you,” The younger sister moves her hand around for more emphasis, “You can bring Dublin Danny too. He can entertain you if you get bored.”

“Dublin Danny?” Gemma raises a brow.

“Yeah, that’s his new name.”

“You’re stupid.” Sabina grins when her sister lets out an amused chuckle, “Fine, I’ll give Dublin Danny a call.”

“Perfect.” Sabina’s phone vibrates over the coffee table, and she grabs it thinking it was her friend Cat calling at the ass crack of dawn, but when she sees the unknown number with a +45 call code, she hesitates. Accepting the call, she slowly brings the phone to her ear.

“Yo?”

“Sabina?” That fucking Danish accent.

“...Yes?”

“It’s Alex. Is this a bad time?”

“I thought I told you to delete my number, Tinker Bell.” She could hear the noise of displeasure he makes at the name.

“Really? I can’t say I recall.”

“What, is no one showering you with attention today?” Gemma moves to stand in front of her, hands on her hips and brows raised.

“Is that the cute guy from the pub?”

“Shh,” Sabina hisses, covering the receiver with her hand, “Shut up!” Gemma smirks, pulling out her phone to call Danny.

“What sass,” Alex’s comment has her focusing on his smooth voice again, “Are you American girls all like this, or am I just lucky?” The words were dripping in sarcasm, enough to make her scoff.

“What do you want?”

“I’m free today. I thought maybe we could meet up.” She could almost hear the smile in his voice.

“Right. No.” Sabina wanted to hang up so bad, but she struggled, still wanting to hear his stupid voice.

“Come on, why not? We’ll have a good time, I promise.”

“Even if I wanted to, I can’t. I’m going sightseeing with my sister and her internet boyfriend.” She could hear shuffling in the background as he chuckled. It sounded like he was cooking.

“So less of a holiday, more of a catfish?”

“Something like that,” She mutters, “But he’s not a catfish. He’s actually not bad looking.”

“Like me, ‘the cute guy from the pub’?” He replies coolly, his ego shining through. Sabina cringes, whispering curses under her breath that was loud enough for Alex to hear and respond to with a short laugh. She hears him call out in Danish for someone, sounding like the name Marco before continuing, “Where are you going?”

“Trinity College.”

“Wonderful place. It has an amazing library,” He comments, “What time are you going? I could meet you there.”

“What makes you think I want you there?” Sabina scoffs. Alex must have been speaking loud despite not being on speaker because Gemma instantly comes running back with a reply.

“We’ll be there at two!”

“Perfect,” Alex chuckles again, “Thank your sister for me. I’ll see you there.” The line went dead and Sabina wanted to chuck her phone across the room.

“Gemma!” She screeches, tossing a sofa pillow at her sister who easily dodges it in a flurry of giggles.

“What! Sabina, come on, don’t be stupid. He’s super cute! And what was that accent?”

“He’s Danish.” Sabina mutters, dropping her head into her hands with a groan. She taps her phone for the time. 11am. Three hours till she’d see this fucker.

“A Scandinavian!” Gemma sings, “How dreamy. He’s a Viking!”

“No he’s not, he’s a Tinker Bell.” Gemma stops in the middle of making her sister a coffee, scrunching up her features in confusion.

“He’s a what?”

…

Trinity College had a large campus. Located in the middle of the modern city, walking into the campus was like walking back in time. It was beautiful, with an east wing and a west, large enough to get lost in.

“So where are we off to first? East or west?” Danny asks the sisters, smiling when Gemma scowled, “Come on Gemma, it’s really not that bad.”

“Thank you, Dublin Danny, I had to convince her.” Sabina pulls out her phone to check the time, 1:55 pm. He was probably not even coming. She was almost disappointed.

“Dublin Danny?” He repeats with a chuckle, scratching at his short raven hair, “Is that what you both have been calling me this whole time?”

“No!” Gemma reassures him, “Sabina is stupid, don’t mind her.” She brings her glaring eyes to her sister, who only shrugs in response while popping her bubblegum.

“I kinda like Dublin Danny,” Sabina says to him, “Don’t you?”

“I’ll take it,” He shrugs, “So when is your friend coming? Alex, right?”

“He’s not my friend.” She says hurriedly, the tip of her converse digging into the dirt in her nervousness.

“Really?” Danny asks, “Gemma says he is.”

“Gemma doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” This time, Sabina glares at her sister who offers her a sheepish grin.

“Fine, not your friend,” Gemma corrects, “Your love interest. Better?”

“No!”

“Well how much longer should we wait? If you want to go see the Book of Kells, then we should leave now before it gets crowded.”

“Let’s just leave now.” Sabina insists, almost pleads.

“That won’t be necessary,” The Scandinavian man appears beside her, dropping and arm around her shoulders and flashing her that stupid fucking smile. Where did he even come from? “I’m sorry I’m late. I’m Alex.” He waves at her sister and Danny before looking back down at Sabina. Her gawking made him chuckle.

“Aren’t you gonna introduce me?” He whispers down at her, and the little hairs on the nape of her neck stand.

“Gemma, Danny.” She grunts, pointing at each of them as she shakes his arm off of her.

“Nice to meet you,” Alex smiles, “And I must thank you, Gemma, for inviting me.”

“Oh, it was no problem.” The older sister grins, loving the tension she created for her sister, “Sabina loves the company.”

“Whatever, Dublin Danny, lead the way, please.” Sabina stomps on ahead of them, and Alex immediately turns to Danny with a curve in his brow.

“She has a nickname for you too?”

…

After years of only seeing it on google images, the Book of Kells was magnificent in person. The colors were so vivid, ancient swirls made with ancient ink to form a grand illustration. It was magical. Sabina could stare at it all day.

“You really like this stuff, huh?” Alex whispers over to her, his hands stuffed in the pocket of his denim shorts. He was bored, and would much rather admire her then an old medieval book. He’s been there a few times anyway, it never changes.

“What does that mean?” She whispers back, annoyed, keeping her eyes on the display as she inched closer to the glass.

“You know,” He waves a hand around before stuffing it back in his pocket, “History stuff.”

“Yeahhhh. Yes. I do.” She rolls her eyes, reaching for her phone in her back pocket for a picture.

“No, you can’t,” He puts a hand over hers to stop her movements, “They don’t allow pictures. Trust me, I tried.” He motions toward the expensive canon camera slung over his arm. Sabina sucks her teeth and pouts, shoving her phone back into her pocket.

“I know,” Alex chuckles, “Something about copyright infringement and flash affecting the ink.” She sighs but nods, adjusting her little backpack that he thought was cute on her. Actually, everything about her was cute, really.

“Fine,” She takes one last look at the book before glancing across the mass of people, “Where’s Danny and Gemma?” Alex shrugs, searching around as well.

“They’re probably exploring another part of the university.”

“How are they just gonna leave us like that? Un-fucking-believable.”

“Hey, hey, don’t get so worked up, grinende pige,” He smirks, “We’ll meet up with them later.”

“What did you just call me?” She squeaks, the unfamiliar Germanic language sounding like gibberish to her.

“Something suitable, don’t worry,” Alex grins, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her towards an exit, “You like books so much? There’s a huge fucking library that way.”

…

“How are you liking Dublin?” Alex eyes her, following her delicate fingers as they type away on her phone, messaging her sister of their location.

“It's cute.” She shrugs, placing her phone down and finding the courage to finally look him in the eye. His eyes were so blue and intense, and fucking gorgeous. Fuck.

“Cute? The city is cute?” He shakes his head, “You’re weird.”

“And somehow,” Her eyes sweep over his face, as if searching for answers, “You look familiar.” He smirked, leaning his chin on his hand as she continued her observation.

“Oh yeah?” He chuckles, “Tell me more.”

“You’re full of yourself, Tinker Bell.” She mutters, taking a bite of her forgotten pastry, “And you said you were free today,” She points out as she chews, “What did you mean by that? Aren’t you on holiday too?”

“Well, no, not really,” He shrugs, “I’m here for work. Four months.” Sabina cocks her head, finally interested in what he had to say.

“What do you do?”

“I’m an actor.”

“Hmm,” She hums, pursing her lips, “Are you any good?” Alex scoffs at her question, pouting his lips in a way that made her gaze gravitate towards them.

“Am I any good? I’m fucking super.” He says haughtily, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Oh yeah?” She sucks her teeth, “Where’s your Oscar then?” He bursts out in laughter, a grin stretching over his perfect lips before he licks them carefully.

“I’m still working on it,” He finally says, leaning forward on his arms, “But when I get nominated for hottest actor, you’ll be the first to know.” He winks at her after their little staring contest, appreciating the way her cheeks colored. He grabs his camera, fiddling with the lens and looking through it a few times while he continues his chatter.

“So Sabina,” He begins, “You are American, but no American is really American.”

“What?” She snorts, “What the hell are you talking about, cheese Danish?” He rolls his eyes. She had a knack for name calling.

“I mean to say that most American people come from somewhere else, yeah?”

“Uh-huh, some.” She replies flatly.

“Your name is Italian, but are you Italian?” Finally, he brings the camera to his face, focusing the lens a bit more until it was to his liking, peeping through as he points it directly at her.

“You better not be photographing me!” She hides her face behind her hands, peeking through the slits. He still had the camera pointed at her.

“Aw, come on! I’m doing a series of portraits, and luckily you fit exactly what I’m looking for.” He lowers his camera down to his nose, his brows raised up in question, “Are you gonna answer my question, grinende pige?” She makes a low noise of disapproval, still hiding behind her hands.

“Dad is Turkish, mom is Italian.” She mutters her answer, slowly dropping her hands, giving Alex enough time to snap a picture of her. The camera shutters softly, and she blinked at the noise, confused as to why he even wanted to photograph her.

“Perfect.” He mumbles, smiling down to view the image on the tiny screen, “You look amazing.” Again, heat rises to her cheeks as the compliment easily falls from his lips. He then holds out the camera to her, “Check yourself out.” She cautiously takes it, turning it over in her hands to gaze at herself. The image was vivid, her eyes wide and sparkling and hair shining like waves of chocolate. How did he manage to make her look that good?

“How did you do that?” She questions softly, looking up at him with a look that had him swallowing thickly. Alex bites his lip, looking away from her for a moment. When he looked back, her features were twisted in confusion, her attention now on something behind him.

“Do you know them?” She asks, “They’re staring at you.” Alex looks over his shoulder at two girls he most certainly didn’t know, but they certainly knew him. They began to giggle, hands over their lips when he turned to them. He flashes them a quick smile, and they took it as an invitation to approach him.

“No, I don’t know them.” He shrugs, “But they recognize me.”

“What?” Before anything else could be asked, the girls approach. They were nice enough, asking for a photograph and an autograph, then heading on their merry way. Alex grinned at the attention he was given, causing others in the cafe to look at him. He was living for it.

“Okay, I see what this is,” Sabina says, crossing her arms with a laugh, “Tinker Bell, are you famous or something? Am I unaware of your status?” Alex shrugs, taking back his camera when she offered it back to him.

“Something like that.” He plays with the little bun sitting on the back of his head. Gemma was right, his hair is amazing.

“What is it that you’re filming now?”

“TV show. Vikings. You heard of it?” As a matter a fact, she has. Deep in the crevices of her brain, she remembers how her friend Cat would babble on and on about some show with Vikings and hot ass actors.

Oh fuck.

“Wait, hold on.” Sabina grabs her phone, immediately video calling Cat. Alex smiles, amused as she fumbled with her phone, her nails clicking loudly on the surface.

“What’s up, Beany?” He laughs at the disembodied voice, smiling stupidly at the nickname.

“Catherine, can you tell me who this is?” Sabina flips the phone view so that she could see Alex eating his puff pastry with enthusiasm.

“Sabina! What the FUCK!” Cat’s screams were loud enough to be heard throughout the university cafe, and Sabina immediately clutched the phone to her chest in a panic, as if that would silence her friend on the other end. Cat’s screaming continued, much to her irritation, but highly amusing to Alex. Sabina brings her phone to her face, “Cat, we’ll talk later.”

“That’s Ivar the Boneless, you stupid BITCH!” And with that, Sabina ends the call, tossing her phone aside with an embarrassed sigh. Pushing her hair away from her face she met Alex’s eyes, and his blue irises were filled with absolute mirth.

“Seems you’re famous. Congratulations, you’re one step closer to winning that Oscar.” She mutters, clearing her throat before grabbing her bottled water and drinking as much as her thirsty ass could.

Alex barks out another laugh.

…

Grinende pige- Grumpy girl

...

@didiintheblog @inforapound @a-mess-of-fandoms @shannygoatgruff @leilabeaux @youbloodymadgenius

[fictionalrambles]

Shadowhunters Fandom Story - Part Fifteen

Submitted by jwrites_

Five Favourite Fics:

1. What's It Gonna Be by @lemonoclefox

Why I love this fic: I'm a sucker for Pride & Prejudice. San was able to take that dynamic and put it all in a modern day telling of it. I can't count how many times I've read this. Sometimes I read it all the way through, other times I go and find my favorite parts just to get that rush of emotions it never fails to give. The enemies to lovers is done perfectly, the dialogue is great and flows seamlessly, the way she tied in the storyline between Simon, Isabelle, Valentine, and Alec together was genius. I truly love every word of this story.

Favorite scene: Awkward - love - confession - in -  the -  rain

Favorite quote(s):

(Yes. Love confessions are great but have you ever overheard someone say something rude about you and then have the opportunity later that same night to be able to casually call that person out for their comment?)

"Her friend is..." He trails off, as though searching for the word, and Magnus can imagine him gesturing in the meantime. "Interesting," Jace eventually settles on, pointedly.

"Who, that Bane guy?" Alec says, and as he does, Magnus is hit with a wave of intrigued surprise. Does Alec like men? Interesting. The assumption could be wrong, of course, but Jace's tone implies that that's why he's mentioning it. "He's a bit over the top, don't you think?"

He sounds almost disdainful as he says it, as though Jace's mere suggestion is laughable, and Magnus's intrigue immediately shifts to offended annoyance. He straightens a little where he stands, reluctantly affected by it.

--

"I mean, love songs are great," Magnus admits lightly. "But stringing a few pretty words together does seem a bit unoriginal when everyone does it."

Simon shoves him lightly in offense, and Magnus can't help but laugh.

"Then what do you suggest?" Magnus is taken completely by surprise when he realizes that it's Alec who's speaking, and he turns to him. The guy's expression is neutral, but seems genuinely curious.

"Oh, I don't know," Magnus says, swirling his drink around in his glass. He shrugs. "I suppose I'm more a fan of showing and not telling. I'd much prefer someone showing interest in what I like and who I am, than comparing my eyes to the night sky, and whatnot." He gestures airily, then hesitates. He suddenly can't seem to stop himself, the memory of the Lightwoods' overheard conversation bubbling to the surface. "I think most people can appreciate that. Even if some of us are a bit over the top."

--Okay...I'm gonna go ahead and throw in a love confession~

"Look, I don't expect anything from you," he says, as though the words are hard to say. "You've made your feelings pretty clear, and I respect that. But I heard you talked to my mom, and with the stuff you said to her... I guess it just kind of made me a bit hopeful, or something. A bit." He clears his throat, while Magnus just listens. He turns to watch Alec's profile as the young man struggles to find the words, eyes on the view in front of him. "Either way, I'll admit that how I feel hasn't really changed. Maybe it should have, but..."

Alec shakes his head, and Magnus feels his throat go dry. He wants to interrupt Alec, wants to say and show everything that's bursting out of his chest, but he waits. Alec takes a deep breath then, turns to him. He looks determined.

"If you want me to," he says steadily, "I'll go. I'll leave you alone, I promise. You won't hear from me again." He pauses, licks his lips. "But if you don't want me to, if something has changed since last time, somehow... I'd really like to know. Because that would be pretty great."

2. 42 North 71 West by @lecrit​

Why I love this fic: I was blessed with the opportunity to witness Lu working on this fic from its conception to its end. I was there and still I am blown away at the way she was able to work the time jumps. I remember thinking with every chapter I read, 'Wow. The way she is telling this story is amazing. She is amazing.' Lu has a way of presenting so much honesty in her characters. She writes them in a way that feels so real, that you can't help but understand their fears and hesitations even though it hurts. The story is a back and forth told through scenes set in the past and present. You get to see what they were and where they are. The story is beautifully heartbreaking. And she was able to make me enjoy a story that dealt with politics? What? Sorcery, I tell you. -- also, the bench.

Favorite scene: This was almost impossible to choose and I took way too long trying to pinpoint just one. But I'm going to go with one that I hold very dear. When Magnus goes to visit Alec on his birthday and he finds Alec playing the song he only plays when he's sad. That's all I'm going to say because I don't want to spoil~

Favorite quote(s):

“Magnus,” Alec breathes out.

The name feels almost foreign, as if he hadn’t uttered it in too long and now his mind is troubling to catch up with his mouth. Still, it manages to make Alec’s heart stutter.

--

“We should’ve stayed on that bench in Boston,” he murmurs.

--

The good thing is, he knows where to go to find his way back. It is inked on his body, engraved into his soul, sealed into his heart.

3. Lead The Way by Clockworkswan

Why I love this fic: Because it takes the wonderful adventure of Doctor Who and packs it in with Malec. This is the ultimate fun and feel good but you will also cry at one point fic. I always go back to it if I want a wonderfully written Doctor Magnus and his adorable companion Alec. Seriously, even if you're not into Doctor Who, give this fic a shot. It's written in a way that you will get so caught up in the adventure that you won't even realize it's based on something else. And if you're a Doctor Who fan, you're in luck with all the little Easter Eggs Heather left throughout.

Favorite scene: I really don't want to spoil anything. The planet of Ablorix. This will mean nothing if you don't read the fic (so you should ;])

Favorite quote(s):

Magnus extends a hand. It’s just like before, when they were in the hallway a couple of weeks ago. It’s just as inviting as it was the first time.

“How about it, pretty boy? Name a star. Any one will do. Or a date,” Magnus says. The double meaning is evident when he winks. He pauses then, and his expression shifts, growing solemn.

A clear shift in his demeanour happens. Magnus turns from playful to sincere in the blink of an eye. Although, there was also a serious tone to it. Magnus looks at him, and understanding eyes meet Alec’s hesitant ones. “Alexander, you seem like a man in need of a break, and I am very much a man in need of a friend. Adventures are always a quick way in figuring out what you want. What do you say?”

What does he say?

He says yes.

Of course Alec does.

--

Before Magnus can think of a good retort, he tries to ignore the clenching ache his stomach gives at the sight of a confident, smirking Alec Lightwood watching him so openly. He settles for pointing in a random direction. “I have to go and see a dog about a man. Meet back here in five?”

“Uh, isn’t the expression, ‘see a man about a dog’?”

“Not when the dog ran off with the man’s wife. A rather big scandal, it seems. The president wants me to try and step in. Smooth things over, so to speak.”

At that, Alec just stares blankly.

Magnus holds up a finger. “Yes, this is normal for me. No, you may not come along. Go.”

4. Love & Other Drugs prequel of Our Love Is A Harsh Chord in the Semi-charmed Kind Life series by @la-muerta​

Why I love this fic: I'm kind of cheating here by listing two fics but they're a package deal. Love & Other Drugs was a smutty one-shot that left me wanting

more...

backstory. Let me tell you the pining and 'unrequited' love between those two demanded a story to be written. Which is why when la_muerta ran a poll on whether or not she should start it or another series first, I campaigned for this one like it was my job (I lost but I still got the series eventually so did I really lose?) The writing in this and with all of la_muerta's fics will hook you. The sadness over the back and forth between them is done so well. It's angst that will grip you and hold onto you until you eventually finish. Just go on the twitter hashtag of #OLIAHCfic and see my screaming.

Favorite scene: Probably the LSD scene.

Favorite quote(s):

Alec was still here, in bed with him.

How many times had Magnus wished that he could wake up with Alec in his arms? He didn't dare to move, wanting the dream to last a little longer, but Alec was already stirring.

--

he'll wonder if life would be a little easier if he wasn't hopelessly in love with Magnus, but it is a fact of who he is now: Alec Lightwood is 6'3, has dark hair, is gay, and is in love with Magnus Bane.

--

They are lying next to each other now, turned on their sides and face to face. The world is no longer warped and weird, but glowing and perfect. Magnus is tracing a path of lightning down Alec's body with his fingertips, and in a moment of clarity Alec understands that in Magnus' eyes he is as beautiful as he thinks Magnus is (it is the first thing Alec forgets when he wakes up sober later).

--

Words aren't enough to express how he feels, but they've always understood each other better when clumsy words don't get in the way.

5. The Lonely Hearts Hotline by @unrestrainedlyexcessive​

Why I love this fic: It's funny, it's endearing, it's heart wrenching, it's sexy, etc. The way Alec is written in this fic is one of my favorite characterizations. The way his situation can resonate with so many young adults today. That feeling when you're an adult and you feel like you should know what to do with your life and who you should be but the truth is, you're still just as lost as always. Being an adult sucks tbh and even when you're an adult, sometimes life doesn't quite feel like it. Alec's character and growth in this fic is beautiful. (I also really loved Jace in this fic)

Favorite scene: A tough choice. Probably the office party and follow up scene in Magnus' office.

Favorite quote(s):

The problem with being a new grad, in general, is that the world and job force demands you have experience, but you have to live a certain number of productive years on the planet to gain that experience.

Early adulthood is no man's land. You don’t have the experience to matter and no one wants to pay you to gain it, hence how he ended up in the precarious situation he’s in: dodgy sex work by night, an even dodgier roommate, and desperately hoping an internship eventually turns into an actual paying job.

--

Magnus runs his tongue down the knobs of Alec's spine. "You're so beautiful," he says, pausing.

"I'm really not," Alec insists, eyes fluttering closed.

"Why are you so kind to everyone except yourself?"

"I'm a work in progress."

"Aren't we all?"