#although people talking about wanting her in a spin off are almost as hilarious as the people thst still talk about a lexa spinoff in 2023

[lexa-griffins]

I saw an article speculating Alycia is in the final episode but I kinda have my doubts.

I keep seeing people referencing a twitter account that when they post a gif of a character of something it means they are coming back and they posted an Alicia gif so people seem to be taking that as gospel whoch i cant really say yes or no to because i have long since stopped caring about ftwd

^the tweet

But im also still haunted by the amount of spoiler accounts that "always got everything right" for t1oo also being wrong on the way Lexa would come back and other stuff so I am always skeptical 🤔

I guess we'll see if Alycia is once again brought up to

[let-them-read-fics]

Handle With Care

Requested By @posies4rosie: "Jisoo once gave advice in an interview to people who are having anxiety/depression, that when they feel themselves “slipping under”, they can try turning their thoughts to something lighter and focus on the better things instead before getting consumed. -- Request for reader x Jisoo where reader had one of those episodes and failed to pull herself out, which she thinks she’s failing Jisoo by not being able to help herself, causing her to sink even further. -- Jisoo uses her way to help reader. Angst with a happy ending, please <3"

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,948

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Self-Doubt, Mentions Of Anxiety / Depression, Fluff, Light Smut / Suggestive Themes, Some Cursing, Happy Ending

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hello again, my lovely readers! I really enjoyed writing this one, so thank you very much for requesting. I hope all of you enjoy it -- Happy reading!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

The day started off like any other, nothing seeming out of place or particularly noteworthy as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and took a look around the room. Jisoo had to leave before you woke up, and a sweet letter on the bedside table served as her parting gift. 

My love, 

We have an early stage today, but I'll be back before you know it. Turn it on if you miss me too much ;)

All my love and kisses,

Your Jichu

It made you smile, imagining her saying those words with a little smirk on her lips, and you mindlessly toyed with the edge of the paper. The power this woman holds over your heart is a bit frightening, if you're honest with yourself. One simple note, merely a paragraph at best, warms your heart immensely. The thought of her alone is capable of making you giddy, magically turning you into a love stricken teenager. She rules your world with care, always making sure you feel important and valued; she fights your demons right beside you, never backing down for a minute. 

Before Jisoo, you falsely thought you knew what love was; the ill-conceived notion that you used as a guide was flawed in every way. You were raised to believe that true, honest love only existed in far-off realms -- in worlds of make-believe; so, naturally, settling had always been your forte. You blended in and stuck with the crowd, always going for the safest option when given the choice. You limited yourself with each decision you made, and deep resentment blossomed within you. 

Resentment at your family for allowing the disease of self-doubt to grow within you. They could've stopped it before it really began; they could've assured you of your worth instead of letting you think your insecurities true. 

Resentment at yourself for believing them. 

Everytime you attempted to break the pattern and listen to your heart when it told you that there was a world beyond such mundanity, some nagging voice in the back of your head told you it was all a lie. Your life so far, as boring as it may have been, was predictable and safe. Although you ached for the unexpected, for some all-consuming thrill to shake up the life you had grown to accept, you always fell back into that old mindset. Your fears outweighed your courage every time, and you knew it was futile to go against them. 

But one day -- one beautiful, fateful day -- you met Jisoo. It was a time in your life that you needed a friend; someone to listen and assure you that things would be okay. In allowing your paths to cross, the universe most certainly blessed you; Jisoo became your confidant in the blink of an eye, offering consistency and understanding, and you let her slip past the walls you spent years so meticulously putting up. 

You didn't do that often, and yet it seemed like a no-brainer with her. She made you feel as though you were enough, that you mattered in a world that so adamantly tried to make you believe otherwise. Her love was unconditional and fierce, thorough and far-reaching.

-

Keeping people at arm's length had always been your way of ensuring that life stayed as predictable as ever, precariously balanced in that safe zone of no risk. Even when you dated people, giving into those innate desires to be cherished despite not deeming yourself worthy, you never really let them in. Not all the way, at least. Something always told you that others were better; closer to perfection. No matter the person, you could always find a reason to say that they were better. That they were something you'd never be; that they had something you'd never have. 

The comparisons didn't stop when you began dating Jisoo, but they sure as hell slowed down some. All of that was her doing; she filled your mind with constant reassurance and love, always showing you what a healthy relationship looked like. Over the years, she learned to read you well: the shifting of your eyes served as a sign that you were getting overwhelmed; the way that you zoned out told her the negative thoughts were barreling in. Though she's convinced you to give yourself some credit in the matter, she's the main one responsible for getting you where you are today.

She's your strength -- your reason for wanting to be better.

-------

"Dalgooomie," you cheerily sing out, your voice echoing throughout the apartment. That familiar sound of paws on hardwood draws a smile from you, and you turn to see him eagerly scrambling towards you. 

"Good morning buddy! Are you ready for a walk?" For a moment, you swear he can understand your high pitched speech; he spins around, wagging his tail happily as he looks towards the door. 

With a laugh, you clip his leash on and the two of you begin your walk. 

It's a gorgeous morning; the sun is peeking up, illuminating a sky of beautifully pastel colors as the grass shines with dew. The beads spring off in different directions, the surface tension of the water breaking every time Dalgom rustles his way through the lawn. You have a feeling that today will be a good day.

If only you knew.

About 15 minutes later, you unlock the front door and grin as he charges into the familiar space. He tugs you with him, drawing a chuckle from you as your feet stumble in through the doorway. 

"Slow down buddy! I know you're hungry but you've gotta give me a second," you shake your head, amused, as you remove his leash and make your way to the kitchen. He follows suit, barking when you take too long for his liking.

"Yah, okay okay!" You scoop his food into the bowl and pat him on the head as he begins to eat.

A ding from your phone sounds off, the notification surprising you a little. Great timing, you think to yourself.

"About to go on stage, I'll text you later. Xoxo"

Your heart warms at the message, and you type a quick reply before heading to the couch to turn the tv on. 

At first, all is well: you watch your girlfriend in awe, always so enraptured by her performances. During one portion of the program, you even run upstairs to retrieve your lightstick and dance around in the middle of the living room. As much as Jisoo can't believe you actually bought one, she thinks it's the most adorable thing ever. 

Everything was going well, truly, until towards the end of the show, when the girls were interviewed with a few other idols. One in particular, a female soloist, stood beside Jisoo, looking completely at ease next to her. She was beautiful in every way imaginable, and you couldn't help but begin to compare yourself. You tried to focus on how happy Jisoo looked as she joked with her members, answering the questions with that quick wit you love so much. But your mind soon again filled with intrusive thoughts, taking the focus away from Jisoo.

She looks so much prettier than you do

Watch how she's looking at Jisoo

They look pretty together

What if Jisoo likes her?

I bet she does

You physically shake your head in an attempt to force the thoughts out. Jisoo loves you, you know that. She's with you for a reason. Eventually you're able to look at the tv again without grimacing, but soon that progress is destroyed all over again. 

The soloist puts her hand on Jisoo's arm, motioning to the girls and herself as she explains something to the MC. She must've cracked a joke, said something really hilarious, because all of them burst into laughter. Jisoo throws her head back, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth as she giggles loudly. That joyous sound hurts you now, almost feeling like she's laughing at you. 

It's ridiculous and immature, but your brain takes it there no less. You know better, but your mind is flooded with insecurity and fear, overrun by your unforgiving worries. Tears are streaming down your face as the thoughts grow worse and worse, and it feels suffocating. You consider yourself weak for blowing such a seemingly innocent thing so out of proportion, twisting what should be a positive thing for your girlfriend into something negative. But you can't help it. Your brain betrays you, coming up with hundreds of hurtful scenarios that pile on until you can't breath. It's a physical pain, one far too overwhelming to "wish away" now. You turn off the tv and dart up the stairs, set on crying into your pillow until your mind decides to give you a break.

-------

"Y/N, baby, I'm home." Jisoo calls, and you can hear the material of her jacket slide onto the metal hook beside the front door. 

"In here," you say weakly, cursing your voice for even hinting that you're less than okay. For Jisoo, you want to be perfect; you want to seem like you have your shit together. She must not have thought anything out of the ordinary, though, because soon you hear a little giggle from the hallway. 

"Hi Dalgomie, did you miss mommy?" She coos, her voice higher than usual and bouncy as she bends down to scoop up the pup. She pads her way into the kitchen, talking to him all the while. Her free arm snakes around your waist once she reaches you, and she leans around to kiss your temple.

The action was loving and simple -- it shouldn't have made your heart ache. Perhaps it wasn't the act itself that caused it; maybe it was the accumulation of all of your emotions from the day coming to the surface. The feeling of Jisoo's arm around you reminded you of earlier; of how close she was to that woman on the program. They looked incredible, clad in the blingy outfits you could never afford and elegant in their mannerisms. It all brought forth the nasty idea that she's just settling for you -- that she's only with you because she feels sorry for you. 

When you don't start a conversation like normal or even turn to look at her, Jisoo knows something's wrong. Gently, she kisses Dalgom's head before setting him down on the ground. He trots off towards god-knows-where, and you almost wish to be him. You want to avoid the discussion you'll surely be having any minute now; running away has always been your go-to.

But Jisoo won't stand for that. She's mature and honest in every way, and she knows how to handle you. 

"My love, what's wrong?"

She's earnestly concerned, and her tone lets you know she doesn't want you to brush the problem away. Without even knowing the issue yet, Jisoo can tell it's something worth working through. 

"I had an episode today and I wasn't able to stop it." You hang your head, your fingers busying themselves by toying with the bread bag in front of you. Once you had stopped crying earlier, you came down to make yourself some food; after all, you hadn't eaten all day.

Jisoo tuts at you, slowly turning you around to face her. The back of your legs lean against the counter now, and tears threaten to spill out of your eyes. A few moments of silence pass, Jisoo giving you the opportunity to elaborate. She always offers you the option to initiate the process, not wanting to risk diminishing your feelings before even knowing what's troubling you. She never patronizes you, and you're endlessly thankful.

With a deep breath, you lower your gaze to the floor and continue. Seeing the disappointment in her eyes is definitely not something you can handle in your already emotional state. 

"I turned your show on today and saw the pretty idol you were talking to. I started comparing myself and it all got worse from there." You inform quickly, just wanting to get the words out. 

She sets her jaw, clenching and releasing the muscles repeatedly as she decides on how best to respond. 

"Did you use the technique we talked about?" She asks gently, releasing the question with care.

"I tried, but it didn't work this time." A single tear rolls down your cheek, and you swipe it away before Jisoo can even notice it.

You feel like you're failing her by giving into your worries, but they're incessant. They fight for your attention, completely overruling any "happy thought" that you might have previously hoped would be capable of mitigating your fears. You're disappointed in yourself, but since when is that a new thing?

"She's an idol, Jisoo. She can relate to you in ways I'll never be able to." 

"You think I'd throw away 4 years with you to be with someone I barely know, because we can relate?"

She voices your fears in such a way that you instantly feel foolish for believing them. Nevertheless, you persist. 

"She's everything I'm not."

"And that's precisely why you never have to worry."

With furrowed brows, you tilt your head and look at Jisoo: her statement confuses you.

"No one else even comes close to you, baby. You're what I want. You're who I want. Every little thing that makes you who you are is a reason I love you." 

Your heart beats harder at her words, taken aback by how genuine they sound. She's saying all the things you need to hear, but it feels too good to be true.

"Loving me is exhausting; I don't see why you keep doing it. You should be with someone who doesn't need coddling… who isn't broken like me. We go in circles, Jisoo. I always go back to giving into my fears." 

She lets out a disbelieving scoff, soft in its volume as she says, "If I wanted to leave, I would've. You've given me more than enough chances to go, and still I have yet to find a reason to. I'm not perfect either, Y/N. You act like everyone else is so high above you, but we're really all just dealing with our own baggage."

"I have enough of that for 10 people." The phrase is pointed and self depreciating, and Jisoo can't take it any longer. 

"Stop. Look at me, baby." She finally breathes out, hooking her fingers underneath your chin and raising your head. 

"Whether or not you think I'm making a mistake, I'm always gonna choose you. My life isn't complete without you in it; our stories became intertwined the day we met."

Her cheek briefly tugs up in a lopsided smile at the memory of your first meeting.

"I'm just scared, Jisoo. Do you know how many times people have told me they'd stay, just to leave the moment they found someone better? I know I'm not easy to love; I know it's difficult. I just can't imagine what I'd do without you. You've made me feel emotions I never even knew existed."

You're more honest with Jisoo than anyone else, and being so vulnerable scares you. Nevertheless, it feels good to open up sometimes. 

"You'll never have to find out what that's like, because I'm never leaving. Do you understand how in love with you I am? I don't think you do." 

You slip your chin out of her hold again, still disappointed in yourself. The action hurts her more than you know, and you miss the way her face contorts into a sad frown. 

"When I roll over in the morning and see your face on that pillow, I don't know what to do with myself. When I'm holding you and Dalgom cuddles in between us, it's like I see a glimpse into my future. When you smile at me it's like I can finally breathe again. My home is with you; please don't ever doubt that. You're my world."

And then, you hear it. The noise that very rarely ever comes from your girlfriend. A sniffle.

Your eyes shoot up to hers in an instant, searching through her deep pools as you step forward to cradle her face in your hands. She tries to turn away, already upset with herself -- she knows you'll blame yourself for her tears. 

Jisoo only cries in front of you when she's frustrated or deeply moved, and sometimes when she's scared. As you run a thumb along her cheek, you attempt to figure out her reasoning for it this time. 

Once she eventually accepts that you aren't letting her get away, she leans into your touch.

"I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You sell yourself so short. The fact that you think you're anything less than incredible devastates me. You're amazing in every capacity… and so, so beautiful." 

Her voice wavers, taut with the emotions she's still reeling from. She says the words so assuredly that you begin to give in and believe them. She makes them sound like simple facts; common knowledge to any and everyone. On top of that, you're pained beyond belief that anything of your doing makes her this sad. She deserves to be smiling constantly, so hard her cheeks hurt and her belly aches from laughing. 

"I'll never be able to see myself like you do, Jisoo, but I'm willing to work on it. You've already helped me more than you'll ever know, and I've come pretty far. Sometimes I just can't keep the thoughts at bay." 

She nods, moving the hand that previously rested on your hip to hold your wrist. She strokes the skin gently, leaning further into your touch as her eyes soften with understanding. 

"I love you. Thank you for dealing with me." You utter, leaning forward to rest your forehead against hers. She sighs at your words, rubbing a comforting circle on your back. 

"Thank you for letting me in, jagi. Saranghae." 

Your lips move to meet hers now, halfway, both of you needing to feel each other. It's slow and meaningful; she takes her time with it, treating it just like she does your heart. You tilt her head to deepen the kiss, noting the warmth that her cheeks still radiate as you trail your fingers over her skin.

A subtle shiver courses through her at your ministrations, drawing a smile from you. You'll never get tired of kissing her; of having her wrapped in your arms, so close to you. Vulnerable moments like these remind you of how different she is from everyone else. She's your everything and then some, and she needs you as much as you need her. 

A bit impatient now, Jisoo tugs at your bottom lip, silently asking for more. You tap her thighs before looping your hands underneath them, swiftly lifting her onto the kitchen counter. The thin material of her skirt sits a little higher up on her legs now, having ridden up as you moved her. 

She hooks her legs around you as you move to stand in between them, preventing her from falling and keeping her as close as possible. You break the kiss to study her for a moment, lazily running your fingers along the newly exposed skin of her thighs. Her hair is on its way to being mussed, the curls from her earlier performance now coming undone. 

Her tongue darts out of her mouth to moisten her lips as she drinks in the sight of you. The top 2 buttons of your blouse are open, allowing her eyes to gaze at your chest wantonly. 

She trails a hand up your body, teasing you before she grips your collar and yanks you forward. 

Your lips meet again but this kiss holds something different than before: it's passionate, full of need. She adjusts her posture so that her body is flush against you, enabling you to feel how hard her heart is beating. No one else is capable of making her feel this way, and she's determined to remind you of that.

You bite her bottom lip before smoothing your tongue over it to soothe any ache your actions might've caused. The act is welcomed by Jisoo, proven by the groan that vibrates in her throat. Her hands tangle in your hair as you lower your head to her neck, pressing your lips to the tender skin. 

"A-ah, right there," she husks out, her voice deepened with desire. Her wish is your command, and you take your time in leaving a mark there. You continue your assault, leaving a trail of purple-ish bruises in your wake as you move to untouched patches of skin. She knowingly spurs your actions on by moaning into your ear when you bite with just the right amount of pressure, her breath hot on your neck. 

You pull away to admire your work, knowing her makeup artist will have a field day with covering up all of your marks. She leans back a bit, slowly swiveling her hips as she uses her ankles to pull you closer. 

Her movements fuel the heat pooling between your legs, and you don't even attempt to stop the moan that leaves you. She knows you so well; she knows exactly what gets you going, just what to do and say.

"Come here," you command, securing her legs around your waist as you lift her off of the counter. Her lips find yours again, keeping them occupied as you walk towards the couch -- trekking up to the bedroom would take far too long. 

"Tell me what you want, baby." You say, laying her down on the plush cushions. She pulls you against herself again, smiling at the feeling of your hips pressed into her. At first, she defies you, opting to push her lips against yours instead of answering your question. You know what to do to make her talk, though. Slyly, you pull away, barely ghosting your lips over hers. It's just enough contact to make her want more, but not enough to satisfy her. 

With a press of your thigh to her center, she's already bucking her hips up into you, reaching up to reclaim your lips. She whines as you pull further away, not allowing her to kiss you until she gives you an answer. 

"Use your words, Jisoo." You add your hand into the mix of things driving her crazy as you trail it down her body, allowing your fingers to sneak under the hem of her shirt and skim over her abdomen.

She looks at you defiantly, causing you to quirk an eyebrow. Challenging you, is she? Two can play at that game. 

You apply more pressure to her core, allowing her to take pleasure in two more strong strokes against your thigh before pulling away completely. 

"Fuck- no. Y/N…" she pleads, reaching for you again. She's really getting worked up now. 

A smirk crosses your lips at her desperation, and you almost have to stifle a chuckle. She knows you're stubborn, and denying herself release seems idiotic when all she has to do is listen to you. So, she gives in.

"I want your mouth; your fingers. All of you." 

Your cocky persona falters a bit at her words and you feel the blood rushing through your veins at the way she said them. Her voice was raw with lust, dripping with desire as she eyed you. 

"Was that so hard, baby?" You tease, resuming your previous movements with a smirk. 

"Shut up and kiss me." She huffs out, half annoyed and half amused.

"Yes ma'am." You press your lips to hers and get started on meeting her demands. 

[bored-mumma]

Tom Holland Fluff Alphabet

MASTERLIST

A = Attractive. What do they find attractive about the other?

Personality wise, Tom loves your ability to laugh in most situations. No matter how stressed he is, you easily bring a smile to his face.

Physically, he finds your looks breath taking. Your  a priceless work of art to him.

B = Baby. Do they want a family? Why/Why not?

Yes, Tom is almost obsessed with the idea of having a family with you. He’s doing it all right. Got a house with a few spare bedrooms, proposed, got married, and now is waiting for the day you finally show him the positive test. It’s the life he’s always dreamt of. 

C = Cuddle. How do they cuddle?

Wrapped around you. Usually his arms are held around your waist, head resting on your chest and his legs tangled with yours too. He wants to feel your warmth and to just relax after a hard day.

D = Dates. What are dates with them like?

Not usually traditional ones. Instead of fancy restaurants, you can’t beat a late night drive to the beach, sitting in the car with a take away and singing very loudly and very badly to some love songs. Having fun is the most important part of your date nights.

E = Everything. You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…)

You are my best friend.

F = Feelings. When did they know they were falling in love?

You couldn’t see the floor from the amount of the snacks laid on it , you and Tom both wearing your comfiest pyjamas and snuggled up beneath some duvets. There was a raging storm outside so instead of a nice meal out, Tom ordered so much stuff to eat and some movies. He rested his head on your lap, your finger nails gently dragging along his skin. He wasn’t watching the movie though. Instead his eyes kept drifting up to you, realising just how much he has fallen in love with you. 

G = Gentle. Are they gentle? If so, how?

Very. In every way. He’ll hold you gently, he’ll comfort you gently. Even if you argue, he’ll still talk in a calm voice. You’ve never even heard him raise his voice let alone yell properly - especially at you. He’s definitely your gentle giant.

H = Holding Hands. How do they like to hold hands?

I = Impression. First impression/s?

Tom thought you were hilarious. In you walked, a large smile on your face and making everyone happy. You loved to make others happy and Tom was no exception. He introduced himself and the two of you hit it off almost immediately. It didn’t take long for him to ask you out - in fact he did so just three days later.

J- Joker. Are they into pulling pranks?

you tend to pull pranks on other people as a pair. He’ll randomly text you throughout the day saying he’s bored and the two of you will discuss how to pull a couple pranks on his co-workers. 

K = Kiss. How do they kiss?

Pretty gently. He puts his forehead on yours, holding your hands. He slowly leans in and presses his lips against yours, moving in sync. Although, of course, there are other times when its more feral. He’ll pull you towards him, claiming your lips as his own as his hands tangle in your hair. 

L = Love. Who says ‘I love you’ first?

Tom does. He was so excited to say it, he was acting like an over-energetic puppy! He made you your favourite breakfast one morning, along with a bouquet of your favourite flowers. Taking it up to you, you sat in the bed together and before you even had a chance to say thank you, Tom blurted “A beautiful breakfast for the beautiful woman i love.”

M = Memory. What’s their favourite memory together?

When you went to meet his family. He is really close with them all, and when you came in and just instantly clicked with everyone, Tom couldn’t help but sit back with a smile on his face. When everyone sat for dinner, Tom barely got a word in edge ways since his family was just adoring you and wanted to keep the conversation going. 

N = Nickel. Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?

You. Get. Everything. And I mean everything. When looking at buying your first house together, you had to get one with an extra bedroom just to store all the stuff he got you. Usually some random stuff he sees in shops that reminds him of you but it also includes stunning accessories, clothes, vintage books, literally everything

P = Petnames. What petnames do they use?

“babe” or “love”.

Q = Quaint. What is their favourite non-modern thing?

Tom loves to sow! It takes his mind of his hectic life just for a little while. A wall in the spare bedroom is just covered in his designs. Ones he’s most proud of but doesn’t want them hanging in the lounge. It’s also great for you. Rip in your favourite top? No problem, Tom can fix it.

R = Rainy Day

Board games! All and any! Except for monopoly, as experience taught you, that game brings out both your extreme competitive side. 

S = Sad. How do they cheer themselves/others up?

Tom is very good at talking about his feelings with you. If he’s down, he knows your the best shoulder to cry on and vice versa. He’ll always be there for you too. You may not be able to give him advice or to really help him out but just to have someone to hold, to cry to and talk to makes him feel safe. 

T = Talking. What do they like to talk about?

He loves a good gossip. Want to tell him a story about your co-workers having an affair? He’s all ears, throwing in a few gasps and questions too. He’s just nosy but so are you! So a perfect match. 

U = Unencumbered. What helps them relax?

A warm, deep bubble bath with some music playing softly, a good book and some snacks. It’s so relaxing there’s been a few times you’ve had to walk in the bathroom and wake him up from a nap.

V = Vaunt. What do they like to show off? 

He dances. All. The. Time. Either with you or just around you, he loves to dance. And you can’t deny, he’s got the moves! 

W = Wedding. When, how, where do they propose?

Coming home from a lunch date with some friends, you were looking forward to just relaxing at home since it was Toms night to cook. However, when you opened the front door, your eyes landed on the most beautiful sight. Your home was covered in flowers, some candles and a red carpet rolled down the middle. Except there was no sight of your partner. Calling out to him, you walked farther into the room when Tessa, your guys dog, ran out and down the red carpet, a little note wrapped around her collar. As you gave her a quick scratch behind the ears, you read the words “Will you marry me?” 

“What do you say?” You spin as you hear Tom speak from behind you, down on one knee and holding a stunning ring. 

X = Xylophone. What’s their song?

Lady in red

Y = You. You are the ___ to my ___ (e.g. the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

You are the straw to my berry

Z = Zebra. If they wanted a pet, what would they get?

Tom is very content with Tessa. Both of you love the staffy to pieces! But he’s very open at the idea of more dogs in the future. 

[wordynerdygurl]

The Guy

Author’s Note:  Hello my lovelies!  I have to say, I love writing requests and taking part in Challenges.  It helps me sharpen my skills!  But, with the insane way the world is right now, I offered to participate in one... then lost the details.  So, with my sincere appreciation for @lancsnerd​ ,who kindly sent me a reminder about my missing “assignment”, I present the following! Summary/ Prompt:  A quote of “He’s the guy” and my boy, Loki Pairing:  Female Reader x Loki Warnings:  Swearing, Implied Smut, Fluff, Soft Loki

“Are you gonna tell me what I want to know?  Or… do we have to do this the hard way?”  Gravel filled and low, the Winter Soldier had you pinned against the rough brick wall, his metal arm holding your wrists together.

“Ooph!  Bucky!  Get off!”  “Make me, princess!”  

Kicking your legs free, you swung around Bucky, locking him in a bear hug from behind.  Squeezing him with your thighs, your forearms wrapped around his strong neck, “Tap out, Buck!” Wheezing, staggering back, Bucky tried spinning you around but even his metal arm was unable to grab you, “Never!” Applying more pressure to his windpipe, you grunted, “Give me the win!” “No way”, you felt his hard hand grip your thigh, breaking your hold.  Suddenly you were untethered, above your feet was the ceiling of the gym, and then there was no breath in your lungs.  Bucky had managed to flip you over and slam you down onto the waiting mat with reverberating force.  Gasping loudly, you curved up to meet Bucky’s waiting hand, “You alright, doll?”

Shaking your head, sitting up, “That was a dirty trick, Barnes.  I had you and you know it.” “Yea… but you still haven’t answered my question, so I couldn’t let you win.”  Pulling you to your feet easily, Bucky threw his arms around you, his warm hug an easy way to make sure there would be no lasting damage from your sparring session. “Why do you want to know so bad?”  Lowering yourself to the workout bench, forearms resting on your knees, you kept a close watch on your sparring partner. Tossing you a towel, Bucky grabbed both of your water bottles, sitting down on the mat in front of you.  Wiping the sweat away from your forehead, slugging down the cool water, you kicked at the super soldier sitting criss cross applesauce.  Leaning back, resting his weight on his arms stretched behind him, “Because...  I worry about you.  I want to make sure you’re safe… and I want to believe this guy is good enough for you.” Considering his words, you snapped your bottle shut, nodding, “I get it, Bucky.  I really do.  I’m just… not ready to talk about it.” Sensing your hesitation, Bucky patted your knee, “Just know that I’m here when you are ready.  And if he fucks up, I’ll kill him.” Laughing, you stood up with a groan, “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind!” At dinner that night, Steve knocked into your shoulder, “Hey kiddo.”

“Hey Stevie!  How are you?” “It’s spaghetti night, what more does a guy need?”  It was an easy exchange, making you chuckle as he loaded a plate high with pasta and sauce before settling himself into the chair next to you. Unfolding a napkin to lay over his trousers, “Bucky told me you’ve met someone?” Flicking your eyes to the Winter Soldier, who all of the sudden was very interested in something Tony was saying, you munched on your garlic bread.  Swallowing thickly and patting your mouth clean, you turned to Steve, “Oh, he did huh?” “Yes… but he says you won’t give up this guy’s name?”  Concern was present on your friend’s face.  While you appreciated Steve's sentiment, it wasn't necessary, not entirely.  You knew what you were doing and you didn't want to be talked out of it, even by your well intentioned friends.

"I don't know why everyone cares so much.  He's a guy… I'm a girl… it's traditional and boring."

Swirling a fork through his saucy plate, lifting those dutiful blue eyes to yours, "So why the secrecy?"

Chewing, thoughtful, you considered Steve's question.  It was valid.  You were quick to acknowledge that, answering, "Um… because we're still in that love bubble.  Ya know?"

Chiming in, Bucky curious now, "Love bubble?  I don't know what that is… what does that mean?  Love bubble?"

"It's that time in a new relationship when… um… it's like…" words failing, you desperately tried to give structure to your argument.

Interrupted by Loki, sulking at the end of the long table, "She doesn't want to share her paramore.  Greedily, she wants to keep the pair in a love bubble.  Separate and safe from any interference.  Unpopped, if you will."

"Is that true? You don't want us to bug you?"  Bucky's eyes widened at the thought.

Shrugging, you dug around for another meatball, "Kinda… Look, it's not that I don't love you, Buck.  Or that I don't trust you, Steve.  It's just… all of you can be a lot to deal with.  And-" looking at the faces of each of your Avenger friends, "-my… guy… I really, really like him.  I don't want to scare him away."

Admitting it out loud, that was taking a lot of your courage but you were being completely honest.  This guy, he was just about perfect and you didn't want to blow that by bringing him around your overprotective people so soon.  Natasha, the group's mama bear, smiled.  "Seems reasonable to me.  Give her some time, fellas… if he's half as great as she says, we'll like him well enough."

Steve, smiling a little in your direction, "I don't know who he is… but it seems like he makes you happy!"

Bucky, over protective, kept hounding you, "When will I get to meet him?"

"Soon, Buck.  I promise." 

"I wonder who it is… this man you care about so much that you're protecting him from us, your dearest friends!"  It was Loki, musing from afar that made the observation, his sharp eyes on you.

"I told you-" It was Tony’s turn to interrupt, loudly calling, “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark?” “Start a pool.  Five dollar buy in, guesses on who this guy is… whoever has the winning answer gets the kitty!” “Tony!  Not cool!  And, not necessary!  You guys don’t really need to do this!”  But your protests went unheard as chatter erupted and a round of bills were flung on the table. Steve, murmuring to Bucky across the table, “What was that guy at the coffee shop?  Cameron?  Carson?” Snapping his fingers, Bucky answered, “Carlton!”

“He’s my guess, Tony.”  “Shit, Steve.  That’s not fair… but, ok.  Ok, my guess is Matt.  That guy from the pizza place who kept bringing extra chicken fingers for you!  You’d never admit to a date with him!”  Bucky, smug and pleased, sat back content with his detective work.

“Natasha?  Thoughts?”  Tony was typing away, his interface with FRIDAY recording all the back and forth, compiling the list of possible boyfriend candidates. Tapping her lip, Nat watched you, “Hmm… Is it Warren?  The kid from China Star who rode the Kawasaki and always wanted to take you for a ride?”

Clint leaned over you, grabbing a breadstick as he threw down a ten, “I want to put Charles, from the IT department on the list… and Juan, the recycling rep.  Both of those guys follow you around like puppies and I could see you taking pity on at least one of them!” “Nope.  No way!  She went out with Charles once already.  He was the guy who ate her french fries at dinner.  Big No-No!”  “Rhodes, how do you remember that shit?  Fine, not Charles then.  What about Frankie?  The dude from the diner?”  Clint asked the assembled team, looking for someone to back him up.

Mortified, hiding behind your hands, you grimaced.  The list, it kept growing, and you could feel icy eyes of judgement lighting you up from across the room.  You knew you’d have to answer questions later.

Jane, having joined Thor at the table, was getting caught up on your situation.  Conspiring with her Norse God of a boyfriend, she chuckled, slapping a bill on the table with the announcement, “Our money is on Loki.”

Silence overtook the room.  Everybody stared at the small, brunette scientist, evaluating if her suggestion was real or a joke.  A guffaw broke out of you and quickly gathered steam, propelling you directly into a hiccup filled giggle fit.  In a flash everyone joined in, the idea of you and Loki being together was at once so hilarious and unbelievable. It was also diverting enough that the talk of your love life died completely.  Grateful and satisfied, you finished dinner without any other questions, even offering to do the dishes.  While you were scraping remnants into the compost bucket, you felt the room’s temperature drop, noticing that Loki had slid into the room, "Love bubble is it?"

Dropping the plates into the sink, plunging your hands into the soapy water, his strong ones glide over your shoulders, "Yes.  I'm really enjoying our little bubble of love."

“Me too.”  Pressing a small kiss to the curve of your neck, Loki pulled your body close, hugging you tightly from behind.  As Loki was nearly a foot taller than you, it was nothing to tip your head up, his welcome mouth finding yours for a soft kiss.  Curving your back, your bottom rubbed against his pelvis, his desire already rising. “Although, they had a lot of suggestions, my innocent little kitten.  Should I be worried?” Shaking your head, “No.  None of those… meatballs compare with you, Loki.” “Good.  That makes me glad… and I’m pleased to know how coveted you are, my pet.”  Roving hands took the liberty of sliding under the hem of your shirt, fingertips just grazing over your bra covered breasts.

Sighing into Loki’s loving touch, “Not that you were much help!"

"What can I say?  I like seeing you squirm"  his lethal voice purred, warm against your ear.

Pirouetting in his arms, your damp hand brushing back a strand of dark curls, "Jane almost gave us away.” A small smile, almost sad, pulled down Loki’s lips, “Is the idea of you loving me so hilarious?”

“Not to me.”

His head dipped, lowering those pink lips to your own, almost colliding… when laughter, drawing near, broke your moment of connection. Effectively ending your private chat, Thor stomped confidently into the room unaware of the way Loki jumped back as if scalded, or the way your hands trembled at the possibility of discovery.  “Brother!  I need to speak with you!” Flicking his desire filled eyes to yours, Loki smirked, “Of course… to what do I owe the honor?” “I have asked Jane to be my bride!” “Brother!  It’s about time Jane made an honest man out of you!”  Loki, more than a little surprised but genuinely pleased for his sibling, hugged Thor close.  “YAY!  That’s so exciting!  Have you guys picked a date yet?”  Wiping your hands dry, leaning against the sink, you were happy to hear all of Thor's big news. Shaking his blonde head excitedly, “We shall be wed in three months time… and I was hoping that Loki would play for our special day?” 

Loki, blushing a deep rosy pink, “Thor… It’s been years.” 

“So?  What of that, God of Mischief?  You always find a way”, wagging a finger at his dark hued brother, Thor’s teasing grin was sweet. Piling on excuses, trying to gently defer his brother’s marital request, Loki added, “I don’t think I have a suitable instrument.”

That was enough for your mouth to hang open, “Wait… you want Loki to perform?  Like play music?  At your wedding?”  “Of course!  He’s the best chamber musician in Asgard.  Possibly the entire Nine Realms.”  Pride filled Thor’s words at Loki’s accomplishments, something you found impossibly charming, even if you couldn’t quite believe what he said was true.  

“Thor, really… I don't think-" Clapping a broad hand onto his younger brother's shoulder, Thor’s tone changed, “Music from home, Loki. It would mean so much, especially since… Mother and Father-”  

Loki held up a hand, stopping Thor from going further into emotional sincerity, unable to bear the rawness in his brother’s words.  Closing his eyes, agreeing, “Fine.  Ok, I’ll… I’ll do it!’  Loki could sense your watchful eyes on him, curious and questioning, as he gave into his older brother.    

With his easy smile spreading, Thor’s joy pushed the cloud of sadness away, “Our special day will be filled with music!  And flowers!  Jane has a whole… Pinterest board?  I don’t know what that is but she’s filled it with ideas-” spinning around to grab you off your feet, Thor continued, “And you’ll be invited too!  All of the team must come, not just my wayward brother!” Getting swept up in Thor’s passionate excitement, you laughed, offering up more congratulations and promises of attending.  As your toes touched the floor, Thor pulled Loki away, “Jane says you will take Darcy as a date for the ceremony.” Tilting his head, Loki shrugged shyly, speaking loud enough for you to hear, “Uh… actually, I already have a date.” Gripping Loki in a rib smashing hug, Thor squeezed his little brother tightly, “That is marvelous news!  Jane will be so pleased!  So, who’s the lucky girl?” Smiling, you watched them go, happy to see the pair so connected.  You didn’t need to hear Loki’s answer.  You knew who he’d be taking to Thor’s wedding.

That night, as you were toweling dry your cropped hair, a pop of green light signaled the arrival of your secret boyfriend.  He was positively electric, grabbing you by the terry robe covered hips, and kissing you swiftly.  Loki's hands rubbed over the soft fabric on your back until they cradled your smiling face, "Hmm… you smell so clean that it makes me think dirty thoughts."

Giggling, you rose up on your toes, curling your hands into his tangle of dark hair.  You bent his waiting mouth to your own, savoring the sensation of shared breath, as your tongue flicked over Loki's lips, “Dirtier than that?” Nodding, his heated look hungry, “Oh yes.” "How dirty are we talking?", you teased, resting your cheek against Loki's chest.  His rich laugh, rumbling through his core, joined your own.  Pressing his forehead to yours, Loki sighed sweetly, "I missed you…"

"I just saw you at dinner!"

"But it's been too long.  I… I need more."

Turning to hang up your towel, over your shoulder, "More what, my prince?"

"More of you."  Having gained on you while your back was turned, Loki was behind you now, wrapping his long arms around your waist.

Squealing, delighted, "LOKI!  Someone will hear!"

Dropping you quickly on the mattress, Loki shimmied up beside you, toying with the open collar on your robe, "So?"

"So… they'll find you here."

Thoughtfully, Loki’s proud look captured your own, "Maybe I don't care.  Not anymore… Maybe I don't want to keep you and me… us, a secret."

Swallowing hard, your gaze trapped by Loki's earnest expression, "Really?  You're ready to pop the love bubble?"

His fingertips brushed over the thin skin between your breasts, "Yes?  I… I think so.  Are you?"

Biting on your bottom lip, scrutinizing his handsome face, "Loki, I…"

Freezing, his hand stalled, and Loki sat back on his heels.  Looking out your window, shoulders slumping in resignation, "You don't want to tell anyone.  You are ashamed to be with me."

Swiftly sitting up, cupping his face with your hands, crooning, "No, no, no, no, no, no!"

Shrugging away from your touch, "You don't care for me, not like you claim to, if you won't declare your feelings for all to hear."

"Loki!  That's not it at all."  

Letting you tug him closer, Loki's tear filled eyes still refused to meet your own, "Loki… I… I love you.  And… I just don't want to share you.  Not yet, anyway.  That is-" putting your arms around his neck until you were nose to nose with the red-rimmed eyes of an emotional Odinson, "-my only reason for keeping our romance quiet."

Whispering, Loki was too shocked to shake you off, "You… love me?"  His voice wavered, as if the idea of being loved by you had never been a real possibility, as if something impossible was occurring right here and now.

On your knees, sighing, you started pressing tiny kisses along those sharp as knives cheekbones, "Yes.  I am crazy in love with you, Loki Odinson."

Loki had held you tightly before; in the night when terrific dreams haunted his sleep, in the night when he claimed your body for his own.  But this embrace, after telling the dark Prince the truth in your heart, had no equal.  

Still taller than you, even though you were both kneeling, Loki's right arm wove around your waist forcing your hips flush with his own.  His left supported your back, his hand cradling the nape of your neck, helping him kiss you soundly.  It was conquering.  

You were his.  Body and soul.  What's more?  He was yours.

Coming up for air, panting from the work of loving you, "My dove, my dearest one… I love you too."

Shucking your robe was easy and Loki savored the lavender soap scented skin he exposed.  If a spot of you wasn’t kissed, it was licked. If not licked, nipped.  If not nipped, it was caressed.  And Loki was very thorough. When you mewled, weak from forced pleasure, “Loki… please.  Make love to me.” he was eager to comply. “Look at me, darling girl.”  Puffing out your pleasure filled breath, skin dewy with perspiration, you met Loki’s eyes with your own.  Resting his hand over your heart, he lifted your own, letting you feel the pattern of his pulse.  “It beats for you and for you alone.” In the afterglow, laying in Loki’s arms, you stifled another giggle.  Groggy from exertion, Loki opened one eye, “What’s so funny?” “You never told me you play a musical instrument.” “You never asked.”

“Are you any good?”

“You’ll find out when you accompany me to Thor’s wedding.” --- With his heavy cello, Loki took a seat on the edge of the dance floor, taking just a moment to get settled.  A beautifully strange combination of concentration and relaxation mingled over the features you loved so dearly.  Fiddling with strings, taking a moment to tune the instrument, you admired his long, talented fingers as they took their place on the frets. The din of conversation was silenced when the first low note of Loki’s song echoed through the ballroom.  Everyone paused, entranced at the melody weaving its way through the throng of well wishers.  Many were surprised, but not you, not entirely. You knew how long Loki had been preparing for this moment.  It wasn’t all about making Thor’s day special, although, that was surely part of it.  No, he planned to seduce every single person with sound.  Giving all of the attendees a taste of what being loved by Loki was like, he hoped The Avengers would see that he was worthy of you in all ways. Mesmerized, the bow danced over the strings, each note perfectly played.  It wasn’t hard to picture those shapely digits dancing over your skin in the dark of night.  Sending a shiver up your back, you sipped at your champagne, unwilling to take your eyes off of Loki. “I didn’t know he was so talented.”  Bucky, stiff in his tuxedo, sidled up to you with Steve in tow. “Me either.  Look at those fingers fly!” “Guys… hush.”  Shooting a silencing glare their way, you let the music transport you, swaying just a bit at the soothing sound. Too soon, in your opinion, the last lingering note of Loki’s song filled the hall.  Rising swiftly, Loki bowed at the applause, then turned to the happy couple.  Thor hugged his brother close, while Loki kissed Jane’s hand with a gentlemanly air.  Conversations started again, quiet at first, then gaining strength as Loki strode across the room.  Snagging a glass of champagne from a passing tray, his eyes trained on you, Loki accepted accolades as he moved ever closer.  Another server took his empty glass as Loki finally made his way to you.

Scooping you up, Loki spun you slowly in a circle, your gown snapping behind you in an emerald wave of chiffon and lace.  “Loki!  Come on, put me down!” “As my lady commands”, when your mouth passed close enough to his own, Loki kissed you as if you had never kissed before.  You pushed your hands through his dark locks, a hand on each side of his face, “You were amazing, babe.  Just amazing!”

“You really think so?” “Absolutely!”  His arm settled on your waist, keeping you tight to his side, as you were handed another glass of bubbly.

Bucky, leaning against Steve, wore a look of wide eyed shock, “Um.  Loki… what the fuck are you doing?"

"Agent Barnes, do I really need to explain?"

Mouth dropping open, Bucky gaped, "He’s the guy?  Really?  You’re telling me Loki is the guy?” “She’s not telling us, Buck… she’s showing us.”

“But Stevie…?  Loki?  You?  You’re the guy who makes her happy?  The one who she’s been covering for?” Pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, just a touch guilty, “I am.  And, I’m madly in love with her.” “I’m happy Bucky.  Stevie… really.  Loki is… he’s my everything.  I love him, too.”  

As your secret was outed, the group formed a circle around you and Loki.  Questions were shouted, congratulations extolled, Loki was clapped on the back more than once.  Natasha gave you a wink and the "ok", which was really all the approval you needed. 

“So, who won the pool then?”, Clint couldn’t help asking. “Me… and Thor”, the bride stepped right up to Tony with her hand out ready to take the prize money. “No fair!  He’s your brother in law now.  He probably told you!”  Rhodey chimed in, unsatisfied with the final results. Defending her methods, Jane spun in her wedding dress, “No way!  I used my powers of scientific deduction.  I knew she was head over heels for Loki the night we announced our engagement.” Wondering, you looked at Jane, “You did?  How?  I mean, I didn't tell anyone.  We didn't tell anyone ” “You didn't have to!  You two wouldn’t look at each other.  Dead give away.”  Counting her cash, Jane smiled at you. “That may be true, but I promise you this, Odinson… break her heart and I’ll kill you.”  Bucky shook Loki’s hand good naturedly, if a little too long, stopping only when Steve pulled him away. Gazing down at you, adoration evident in his face, Loki husked, “Not to worry, Agent Barnes.  She has my heart you see... and I plan to be her guy as long as she’ll have me.”

Tagging my Minxes:  @lancsnerd​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @just-random-obsessions​ @brokenthelovely​ @lots-of-loki​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​ @sammy-jo1977​ @queenofmischief​ @iamverity​ @iluvsumbucky​ @unadulteratedwizardlove​ @wolfsmom1​ @procrastinatinglikeabitch​ @mizfit2​ @shxdowofdarkness​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @ahintofkiwistrawberry​ @jessiejunebug​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @crystalizedcaramel​ @lokislittlecorner​ @scrumptious-finicky-illusion​ @capcapcapsicle​ @jamielea81​ @caffiend-queen​ @thenatalie @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​ @is-it-madness​ @jenjen8675309​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @poetic-fiasco​ 

[motherjoel]

Leading Lady (Spencer Reid x Reader)

chapter six- whispers of are you sure

wc: 2.1k

summary: you and spencie get closer owo

a/n: im sorry i haven’t posted a chapter in awhile :/

chapter index: chap 1, chap 2, chap 3, chap 4, chap 5

-

You started to stir from your nap when you heard hushed voices a few desks down. Remaining quiet, you kept your head down to listen in on the conversation.

“Listen man, it sounds like you’re crushin hard on this girl,” you recognized Morgan's voice. Reid spoke next in hushed tones.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel about her, it's just unprofessional. And besides, she would probably go for a guy like you anyway,” said Spencer.

You could feel your heart break. It didn’t take a genius to know that they were talking about you, but it saddened you to hear about Spencer’s lack of confidence. In your eyes, he was the ideal man. You wanted to show that to him one day. 

“Now you listen to me. You gotta stop getting in the way of your own happiness. Any girl would be lucky to have you, you just have to see it for yourself,” Morgan told him, warming your heart. This team was like a family, and you had to admit, you were a little jealous about their love for each other, but it was good to know that Spencer had such a great support system. You felt kind of weird listening in, however, so you decided to “wake up.” Slowly lifting your head, you yawned and stretched before looking over at the two men with a sleepy smile, pretending to just realize that they were there.

“Hey sleepy head,” said Morgan before getting up and turning to Spencer. “I gotta help Hotch with something,” he told him, leaning in to say the next part more quietly. “Remember what I told you,” he said before clapping Spencer on his shoulder and ruffling your hair when he walked past you. You smiled at the exchange and turned back to see Spencer nervously picking at his fingernails. 

“So, what'd I miss? You catch the guy yet?” you asked in an attempt to lighten the mood. Spencer just chuckled nervously and shook his head.

“No, not yet,” he paused, thinking of what to say next. “I’m glad you got some sleep in. Studies show that most healthy adults need to get between 7 and 9 hours of sleep each night to function at their best,” he told you, continuing to nervously ramble, citing multiple facts about sleep. You just smiled at him, not fully processing his words. You were just mesmerized by his intelligence and passion for mundane facts. He noticed you staring. “What?” he asked nervously.

“Oh I'm sorry,” you said, flustered. “It's just… you're cute when you ramble,” you blushed and looked down. Spencer had the same reaction.

“Oh. Most people think it's annoying, the team normally cuts me off,” he said, avoiding eye contact. You could almost see the gears turning in his head, almost as if he regretted saying that for fear of judgement. 

“If anything, it's... endearing,” you said, lifting your head back up to meet his gaze. He looked surprised that someone enjoyed his quirks. To you, this is what made him genuine and irresistible, irreplaceable. The two of you stared intensely for a moment before you started to speak at the same time.

“I thin-” you started.

“Do you-” he began.

You both laughed in response to this, the silence continuing for a moment longer.

“Y/N,” he started, with a shakiness in his voice, “I know we’ve only known each other for a few days, but I really care about you. Every time I have a breakthrough on this case, the first person I think of is you,” he started. You got up from your desk to walk closer to him as he went on. “And I don’t know what to call that, but you’re just really pretty and you’re so nice to me and you always are interested in what I have to say and you smell really goo-” you cut him off by softly grabbing the sides of his face. 

“I have never met anyone like you before,” you told him in awe, stars in your eyes. He mimicked your expression, his surprise melting into adoration. Your eyes flicker down to his lips and he wordlessly nods, accepting what you had so badly wanted to do from the minute you met him. Slowly, you leaned in until you were an inch away from his face.

“Are you sure?” you whispered, wanting to confirm your mutual feelings. You weren't imagining this, right? Spencer didn't wait a second to wordlessly accept. With a small but nervous laugh, he closed the distance between his chapped lips and yours, resting his hands on your waist and pulling you closer. It was as if you were in a movie, the magical spark between you two. Your kisses with Logan hadn’t been like this- they didn’t hold this emotion, this longing. Logan's kisses were chores, not luxuries. A few seconds, what could have been hours, had passed before you pulled away and rested your forehead on his, eyes still closed. You wanted to savor this moment of peace, this calm before the inevitable storm. You both jump to the sound of an attention grabbing cough. Turning around you see a sly Prentiss, feigning gravitas.

“Uh, Hotch wants to see you. We’re going over possible unsubs and he thinks it would be good for you guys to be there. But, by all means, finish what you were doing first,” she said with a wink before speed walking into the conference room where the rest of the team was.

“So…” you trailed off.

“Yeah, so…” he replied looking at you with his blush still lingering.

“We should probably go see what's up,” you told him, although you didn’t want your time with him to end.

“Good idea,” he replied, and the two of you began your walk into the conference room, his hand resting on the small of your back as he led you. Once you got inside and settled in a seat next to JJ and Spence, you looked around to see the entire room staring at you with odd smiles. Rossi even shoots you a wink. Huh, word really does get around fast. You didn’t mind them knowing, however- you knew you had their support if Spence was happy. And that's all you could ask for.

“So about those unsubs!” Spencer starts, trying to diffuse the childish energy in the room. 

“Right,” Hotch begins, trying to hide his own sly smirk. “We found out that the time of death of the latest suspect was at around 5:30, just like you thought,” said Hotch in a more serious tone.

“That would give Nichols the perfect amount of time to make the kill and then show up late to rehearsal,” replied Rossi. You were shocked.

“Wait, Nichols? As in Matt Nichols, my Matt Nichols?” you asked, frantically. Reid flinched at your intensity and the use of “my” when referring to Matt, but you didn’t care. Matt might get on your nerves sometimes but you wouldn’t let him take the fall for something like this. You couldn’t have one of your leads getting arrested the week before the show, either. “A guy shows up late to one rehearsal and you assume he's a serial killer? Man, he can’t catch a break,” you huffed with a mirthless smile. 

“Y/N, you have to admit, he fits the profile perfectly,” offered JJ, you just shook your head.

“I see the way he looks at you,” said Spencer, softly. As he continues he attempts to speak with more conviction but to you it sounded like he was trying to prove some far fetched conspiracy. “And that guy is possessive. When we kissed at your rehearsal the guy looked like he wanted to kill me!’ he said, trying to convince you. The mention of the kiss earned a whistle from Garcia on her screen. 

“Not the time, Garcia,” Spencer snapped. You were in shock. The nerve he possessed to be giving an attitude right now surprised you. You could tell he was just on edge because he cared about you, but you didn’t want him snapping on his teammates because of you. 

“I’m sorry you guys, but just because Matt and I used to have a ‘thing,’ doesn’t mean he wants me dead,” you said, standing up and walking out of the room. Your head was spinning and you needed some fresh air. 

You grabbed Spencer’s sweater from where you left it on the chair and tugged it on before making your way outside. Once you were finally in the cold air you felt like you could breathe. How could this happen? Only a few short days ago you were at the top of your game, starring in your dream role and working towards a promotion at work, granted, the amount of times you had to call out for FBI business might affect that. The BAU threw a wrench in your whole life, but for some reason, you couldn’t be mad at them for it. JJ was like the sister you never had- the two of you were immediately connected and you didn’t want to lose her. Garcia was the hilarious and beautiful best friend you had always needed in your life, always ready to lighten the mood. Hotch, stern as he could be, was a compassionate leader and you were so glad the team had him. Morgan was protective and so sweet- even just knowing you for a short period of time, he had nothing to offer but kindness. Prentiss was smart as a whip and loved to tease you and Spence, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Through your savored but limited interactions with Rossi, you could tell he was a father figure for the team. This was a bit of a sore spot with you, but you hoped you could get closer with him over time. And Spencer. He was so frustratingly great. Great at his job, great at making you feel safe, great at… well… everything. You felt so lucky to know all these people and bond with them, you almost forgot your frustrations with them. But, after all, they were the professionals. If it came down to it, you would try to vouch for Matt but if they suspected him, you would trust their instincts.

You removed yourself from your thoughts and were about to make your way back inside when you heard quick footsteps from behind you and a sharp pain on the back of your skull before it all went black.

-

Inside the station, the team continued their conversation about the case. Spencer, however, was pacing around the conference room worried that he just screwed up what you two had going. Rossi excused himself from the team and walked over to Spence to put a calming hand on his shoulder.

“Go. Make sure she’s okay, we can handle this,” he told him, and that’s all it took for Spencer to bolt out of the room and out of the station. Looking around, his heart dropped when he didn’t see you. He tried calling your name a few times but he was received without a response. That's when the panic began to set in. He sprinted back inside the station and ran to the team, face red and panting.

“She’s gone.”

-

You woke up in an empty room, seated in a chair with your arms strapped behind you while your legs were tied together. Looking up you could see a tripod with a camera, filming your every move. Things began to make sense- the unsub had finally tracked your whereabouts and had taken you hostage. You couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh at the circumstances. You had thrown away your life just because you were upset about an assumption a trained team of professionals made. You had thrown away the life that you had worked so hard to want. Your father's passing had left you in a terrible place where your mind wandered to the unthinkable. These thoughts were something you had struggled with your whole life. You never planned on actually taking your life, but some mornings you were disappointed to wake up. It wasn’t until recently that you regained the will to take advantage of what life had to offer. Your passion for theatre was reignited and you met an amazing group of people- a group that you weren’t ready to say goodbye to yet. You were shaken from your thoughts when you noticed a shadowy figure enter the room from the door opposite of you- this figure was familiar, one you recognized. 

“Matt?”

-

taglist: @mcntsee, @diesinspanishbcimhispanic, @chickens-are-life, @rexorangecouny, @ceeellewrites, @aerialdinosaur, @just-damn-bored

[mishavacado]

SPN has so much spinoff potential and so much canon to work with, it's such a waste that none of it's getting used. This post is just all of my spinoff ideas, I'll apologize in advance because it is VERY long.

Wayward Sisters, obviously. There are so many possible storylines to work with, so many stories to tell. I'd really love to see some Charlie, Eileen, or Krissy Chambers cameos. I think that Charlie and Claire would get along really well (just read this post). Rowena is another character that I think could easily be worked into the canon. She could teach the girls all kinds of magic and be the fun wine aunt that spoils the girls on their birthdays. I don't think that Claire would like her very much, but, Rowena and Alex would probably get along just fine. How much I need this in my life: 1000000000000000000000000/10 when I heard that this idea had been tossed out I was so angry. Why doesn't this exist?

Men of Letters prequel that's mostly set in the bunker. This show could really expand on the canon lore and give us some more background on the Men of Letters, as well as any other similar/rival organizations that were around before the main show's time. The Men of Letters have so much story potential for a spin-off; corrupt leadership, new monsters, other organizations, expanding the MoL to outside the U.S. Episodes could be in a monster-of-the-week (MOTW) format, starting and ending with the Man of Letters the case is assigned to making notes in his journal or case file or talking about the case, as well as the overall season arcs. Episodes would be titled by their case number, i.e S1 E1 Case No. 1925-4, etc How much I need this in my life: 1000000/10, the supernatural/historical drama combo would be absolutely stunning.

A series focusing on all of the alternate timelines and universes, both the ones mentioned in the main show and ones just randomly created for an episode. There are infinite possibilities. Each episode would be in a MOTW format, but with different versions of Sam and Dean. The HunterCorp universe, Jared and Jensen from the French Mistake, a universe where their names are switched, a universe where Dean went to college and was the one with the demon blood powers, a universe where they drive a Mustang instead of the Impala, a universe where Sam isn't scared of clowns. I could go on, but I'm going to stop myself here. How much I need this in my life: 9/10 I think it would be pretty funny, but it's not my best idea.

A Bobby and Rufus spin-off where they talk about cases they worked on together or with other hunters, but the stories are told similarly to Tall Tales. It's the same story but told from different points of view depending on who's talking. I wish we'd gotten to see more of Bobby and Rufus because I think those two are hilarious and really think that this could be funny, even if it was just a web series with twenty-minute episodes. How much I need this in my life: 10/10, I love Bobby and Rufus and I think that they have a lot of interesting hunting stories to tell.

GHOSTFACERS GHOSTFACERS GHOSTFACERS. How much I need this in my life: 100000000000000000000000/10, I love the Ghostfacers. That's my whole idea.

A Jack-centric show that's almost a political drama. Jack is the ruler of heaven and is constantly being manipulated by angels, demons, and Death herself. He just wants to make an afterlife paradise, but power-hungry angels won't leave him alone. Remember that Jack is very young and trusting by nature, so there is a lot of potential for disaster if he gets goaded into doing something, like making new universes or ending existing ones. Cas is a main character and he does his best to protect Jack, but he has to be careful to not seem overprotective/like another manipulator or Jack won't trust him either. I have no idea if I'm making any sense, but shoutout to me if I am. For some reason, I've always thought that heaven would be an interesting setting for a spin-off, and those angels are pretty similar to power-hungry politicians. How much I need this in my life: 800/10, I would totally watch this.

A very short series that just destroys the canon finale. Twelve episodes, detailing the storylines that were ignored or destroyed by Carry On. E1: Rescuing Cas from the Empty and he and Dean have a long talk about their ~feelings~. They kiss, and for the first time, Dean’s mind is free of doubt about whether or not anyone could ever love all of him. E2: Eileen returns. She says nothing when she sees Dean and Cas holding hands, just raises her eyebrow and smiles knowingly. Some excellent movie night content. E3: 1 year later. Sam and Eileen’s wedding. Dean and Cas aren’t legally married, but their matching gold rings are very prominently shown. It isn’t mentioned. The wedding is almost canceled because of the rain, but with a wave of Jack’s hand the clouds disappear and the birds start to sing. E4: Sam and Eileen have moved out of the Bunker. Cas finally convinces Dean to downsize, so they find a little house in Lawrence and settle down. Cas works as a special ed teacher. Dean works as a mechanic. Miracle loves the backyard but makes sure to stay away from the beehives in the back corner. E5: Sam and Eileen’s twins, Mary and Maura, are born. Dean and Cas love their nieces, and Jack loves them too. He doesn’t know what to call himself, so they settle on Uncle and call it good. E6: Deaths. They all die old. Cas’s vessel has aged, but he can’t die, so when Dean finally passes away in his sleep, Cas scatters his ashes in the woods and disappears, ascending to heaven, to spend eternity with Dean. The closing scene is a dark screen, with the whoosh of wings and a soft “Hello, Dean.” OK. That was a long one. My apologies. How much I need this in my life: 100000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000/10. I would reach nerdvana thirty seconds into episode one.

Another spinoff of that idea is just...Dean and Cas living a normal life. Short episodes. Cas goes to the grocery store. Dean drags Cas to a horror movie fan convention. Cas meets a roomba. How much I need this in my life: I can’t type enough zeroes to express it.

Campbell prequel that focuses on Mary and her childhood. Mary being raised as a hunter but not being allowed on hunts. Mary rushing home to finish her chemistry homework so she can help her dad track a nest of vampires moving east. Mary missing her prom to help Samuel on a hunt. Mary trying to keep her real life secret from John, a man she knows loves the parts of her he knows about. Mary always being an outsider, the kindest and most beautiful girl in her class, but so slow to trust and quick to speak that everyone is afraid to be her friend. Mary is a character that has the potential a lot more development, for twelve seasons she’s the burning martyr in every Winchester’s imagined paradise. She deserves more. How much I need this in my life: 11/10, Mary isn’t my favorite character but I would die for her.

Gabriel spin-off. That’s it, that’s the idea. How much I need this in my life: 10000000/10, Gabriel is a character that we don’t know a lot about so there are so many possible directions for a story about him to go.

Show set in the SPN universe that doesn’t really interact with the main show’s canon. It’s about two cops in the 30s that become hunters by accident. After investigating the apparent suicide of a hunter in their small town, they become enthralled by her library, filled with books about ghosts and vampires. They pour over her journals on their own time, fascinated by what they’re reading. They get to know the hunter through her writings, her accounts of her hunts and travels. Eventually, a nest of vampires settles in the town and the two put their newfound knowledge to the test. This show would just be based on canon lore, there wouldn’t be any mention of the Winchesters or other main characters, although a few MoL team-ups is definitely a possibility. The two become quite a team, tracking werewolf backs on bulletin boards in their basements and hoarding rock salt. How much I need this in my life: 89/10, I think this could be really interesting and I am a sucker for historical hunters.

Speaking of historical hunters-Samuel Colt prequel. Cowboys, vampires, cowpires. Hunting in the wild west, galloping across the prairie chasing a pack of werewolves. This show could also tell us a lot about how different types of monsters spread across the U.S. Ghosts will go anywhere people go, but what about vampires? Shapeshifters? Ghouls? What was it like to hunt without technology to help with research? The hunters in this series would be the authors of the journals that modern hunters use every day. They’re the ones that tested tracking and trapping methods. Again, no idea if this is making sense, but I think that a supernatural western would be really awesome and would expand/substantiate the canon lore. How much I need this in my life: 1000000000000000000000000000000/10, I love cowboys and I love Supernatural. This is literally the best thing that could ever happen to me.

Crowley. I want to know more about him. A series that tells us all about Fergus Roderick MacLeod, starting with when he was born in Scotland and ending with his death in All Along the Watchtower. We know that Rowena was his mother, that he was a tailor, that he sold his soul for an extra three inches ~down there~, and that he was a terrible dad. I want to know more about his childhood, about the people he made deals with, about how he became king of the crossroads and of Hell. Crowley was a very interesting character that was abused by the story. I want to know more about him. How much I need this in my life: 10000000000000000000000000000000000000/10, I really do love Crowley and I would watch this a thousand times over.

Final idea: MOTW only. No season arc, no overall storyline. New hunters every episode, from all different times, from over the world. All kinds of monsters. One episode in Victorian England, the next in 1990s Los Angeles. Very few recurring characters, if any. The recurring characters would be the Bobby Singers of the world; the lore guys that you call when you need help. Each new character has their own style, own car, own music, own personality. The show could have some a m a z i n g guest stars because they’d only appear in a few episodes. There are so many possibilities for episodes, even if they weren’t full length. How much I need this in my life: 100000/10, I love MOTW episodes and would really like to get to know the characters. It would be very easy to write one-off fanfics for this show, and also very easy to introduce this show’s characters into Supernatural’s canon.

You made it to the end!!!!!!!! That’s all I have for now. Sorry for writing so much, I just can’t stop thinking about SPN and all of the wasted stories.

[itsmyara]

About That Night... (Hisomachi Fanfic)

Note: Another translation, though my English is not that great ^^’. It’s 3532 words NO SMUT! I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Pairing: Hisoka/Machi

Summary: Hisoka realized that he was still analyzing her for a reason other than trying to investigate the possible sources of her drunkenness. He was mesmerized by the way emotions were running free in her face, something he had never seen before.

Warning: Drunk!Machi, Jealous!Hisoka, Alcohol, Mentions of Drugs, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Getting Sick, Passing Out, Hangover, Mild Language.

[Link to AO3 in English] 

[Link to AO3 in Brazilian Portuguese]

Her body moved insanely under the colorful lights of the room to the sound of a repetitive and irritating electronic beat. Although she was dressed much more discreetly than the other girls in the club, wearing simple jeans and a black tank top, she drew attention and caused a small audience to gather around her. Dancing with a big, strong man covered in tattoos and looking like a local crime boss, she moved boldly and sensually, with a loose laugh that occasionally lit up her face.

"Is this just alcohol effect or did she use something else?" Hisoka questioned the man standing next to him, without taking his eyes off Machi on the dance floor.

The tattooed man's hand slid down her small body and slipped under the black tank top, pressing her waist against him while his mouth whispered something in her ear that made her laugh. Hisoka's fists clenched hard.

Illumi shrugged before answering the question in a monotone voice:

"I don't know, she was already like this when I arrived, so I called you. She's dancing with my target and it doesn't look like she's going to leave him anytime soon. So I called you. I figured you wouldn't want it to be me taking her out of there."

Hisoka moved his eyes to face the ever-so-cold colleague. He was right. If he used his methods against Machi, even if it was just to get her out of the way, he would have to make a little reckoning with him. But the assassin was smart. Illumi decided to turn the situation around and, by calling Hisoka, he won himself a favor to collect later.

When the magician looked back at the pink-haired woman, he saw the tattoed man leading her towards a door in a reserved corner of the nightclub.

"Is that what I think it is?"

Illumi observed the scenario calmly and then turned away, unconcerned.

"Just remember that no matter what he does to your girl. He is my target and I need him alive. I will wait outside."

Hisoka responded with an annoyed snort before walking in the opposite direction of his friend. The bloodlust that exuded from the magician made people open the way naturally, looking suspiciously at the strange man who carried a macabre look on his face.

He unceremoniously kicked down the door to the private room, much to the surprise of some people who ran away, but not Machi. She has been waiting for him, even though she was pressed against the wall by the other man's body. She could be intoxicated, but her perception would never fail to notice Hisoka's bloodlust.

Hisoka leaned against the damaged door frame, crossing his arms casually as he faced the scene in the room by the half-light.

"Oh, am I interrupting something?" He asked wryly.

The tattooed man immediately released Machi and faced him without fear.

"What's up, clown? This one is mine now, if you want the leftover you'll have to wait outside."

Hisoka laughed shortly. The man had given the worst answer he could when he was so obviously in a risky position. He was nothing between the two nen users — even though one of them was intoxicated — and the only difficulty the magician faced was being forced to use only his fists to bring down the thug. He didn't like having to control himself that way, not when he wanted to end the existence of someone so weak and unwary, but he would have to leave that to Illumi.

Machi only seemed to understand the situation completely when the man was already lying on the floor unconscious, and Hisoka was heading to her with an enigmatic smile.

"You could have chosen someone stronger, you know? This is almost an insult..."

"What are you doing here? After everything you’ve done, you decided to follow me?"

Even though the place was dark, Hisoka could see her cheeks flushed. Her eyes shone with tears and her lips swollen, red, and moist; probably as a result of the kisses she shared with that useless guy. He took a long time to analyze it, for a moment believing that it was because he had to determine if she was under the influence of a drug other than alcohol.

His hands grabbed her face, and the only reaction she had was to hold his arms as if she was going to try to stop him, but she didn’t actually apply enough force to it.

"I'm too busy to follow you, ok? But when a little bird tells me that you're out there screwing up, I have to act, don't I?"

Machi laughed sadly, her chest shaking almost quietly between them, and Hisoka realized that he was still analyzing her for a reason other than trying to investigate the possible sources of her drunkenness. He was mesmerized by the way emotions were running free in her face, something he had never seen before.

"You think I'm weak, Hisoka..." she murmured under her breath, and then in a burst, she pulled his hands away from her face and pushed him away. "Do you think I need you to defend me from this ?" She pointed to the dead weight on the floor and then laughed sadly again.

Actually, he was defending her from Illumi, who wouldn't be so patient with her drama, but Hisoka resigned himself to smile in response, making her snort.

"I hate you!"

There was a very sincere feeling in those words, which came out of her mouth as if they were ripping her up. This made Hisoka lean his head in curiosity. However, Machi simply looked at him from head to toes in disbelief before turning away and stumbling out of that room, pushing one or the other person off her way and randomly stealing a drinking glass from one of them as she headed to the exit.

Hisoka sighed, grabbing the unconscious man by the hair and dragging him along while he went behind the woman. He caught up with Machi near the door, where even the security guards had already moved away. Without saying a word, he wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her off the floor, carrying her out despite her protests.

"This is yours," Hisoka declared as he threw the unconscious body at Illumi’s feet.

The body that writhed and struggled, trying weakly to attack Hisoka without ceasing, was his.

"Do you want some help with her?" Illumi offered, watching the woman's wildness with some curiosity.

"No, she has the right to protest. When she gets tired, she'll see that this is in her best interest."

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here, you wretch! Fight me like a man! I'm going to kill you with my bare hands!"

Between punches and kicks, Hisoka just waved a greeting to Illumi and went on his way.

[...]

When he crossed the threshold of his hotel room, Machi was less savage in his arms. In fact, at some point along the way, she had given up attacking him and started just pouring out words about him being a traitor, about Chrollo, and even something about Pakunoda's death. Some of her words actually made sense, but the state she was still in, which seemed to get worse by the second, made any response from him useless.

Therefore, in the face of silence, Machi finally burst into tears before reaching their destination, and Hisoka thought it was best to cradle her properly in his arms so that when they crossed the door she was being carried like a bride, but a tearful one against his chest.

When he tried to accommodate her on the couch, she clung more tightly to his shoulders, as a clear sign that she didn't want to part at that moment.

"Oh? I thought you hated me," he declared with a playful laugh.

"Why do you have to be like this?"

Her voice was so heartfelt that he couldn't help but sigh before settling on the couch with her in his arms. Machi wouldn't remember any of that the next day, which is why he stopped to think for a few seconds about what she just said. He knew that she was not referring to his jokes, but to the fact that he had lied for years and, in the end, revealed a goal that clashed with her own completely. If it weren't for that, maybe she wouldn't have to hate him that much.

She finally looked up and, not without effort, focused her reddened eyes on his. Hisoka looked at her expression legitimately surprised. He could expect hatred and tears on her part, but the way she looked at him now was... sweet. For some reason, he was sure that if he kissed her now, despite anything that preceded this moment, what he would taste on her lips would be something so deep and meaningful that, yes, it scared him.

That's why he didn't kiss her, allowing her to break the silence:

"You're spinning..." Machi murmured, and then laughed in a silly way, breaking the magic as well. "You're spinning and you're not going to tell me anything, are you? You're not even here, I'm imagining you," she put her face back on his shoulder. "At least you smell good…"

"Machi, what did you use?" Hisoka knew he probably wouldn't get a coherent answer, but that doubt had haunted him since the moment he saw her that night. It was hard to believe that only alcohol would do that to a woman as strong as her. There had to be some other chemistry influencing her altered state.

"What did I use?" She asked, confused, and then looked up to him again. "Ah… you wanna know if I did something," she approached his ear and whispered: "Maybe…"

Suddenly she let go of his shoulders and stood up, staggering a little and cleaning the tracks of the tears on her face with the back of her hands. She walked a few steps erratically and looked around in amazement before looking at him again.

"Do you pay to sleep here?" Machi asked in surprise and laughed right away as if it were really hilarious. "You pay ! You're such a fancy-pants."

Hisoka just settled down more comfortably on the couch, watching the scene. On several occasions, he wished to see her acting more spontaneously, freer, but this situation was just sad. He didn’t even want to take advantage of it or tease her about it — at least not until the next day.

He watched Machi shrink into herself again, leaning against the wall and letting the weight of her body drag her to the floor. She crossed her arms very specifically over her stomach, and he knew it was a sign that something rather unpleasant was about to happen.

"You’re feeling sick," he declared, standing up to meet her.

"I'm fine, I'm fine…" Machi flinched a little more, however. "I just miss them..."

Ignoring the way she was closing herself off, Hisoka lifted her from the floor by the shoulders, as if she were a small child. He looked at Machi’s eyes seriously, while pinning her against the wall.

"I know you miss them, but acting like this is stupid. I can't believe you're the same Machi I know."

"Pakunoda was the first person who cared about me in this world," she declared and then swallowed hard before continuing: "she was my family and now she’s dead. Chrollo is my family and now he's far away, unable to use his nen, and I know you had a part in it. The chain guy..." Machi closed her eyes briefly as if to take his name from memory, "Kurapika, you sold our secrets to Kurapika because you wanted to, didn't you? He didn't do to you what he did to Paku, you don't have a fucking chain in your heart. You don't even have a fucking heart! You are a..." eyelids closed again, this time, however, she couldn't remember the word. A single tear streamed down her left eye. "Damn it…"

"You talk as if you have a heart," Hisoka interrupted her coldly, which made her look at him with a sharp look, a faint bloodlust pulsing from her intoxicated body. "You don't feel anything for anyone but for a few of your friends. You're not much better than me."

Machi struggled in his hands for a fraction of a second, resigning herself to kill him only with her intentions when she was unable to leave. She looked a little more like who she really was now.

"You have no idea, you idiot."

Those words were followed by a few seconds of silence in which the blue of her eyes became indecipherable. That was when he remembered who she was and why he cared so much. Machi was the lady of the labyrinth, and he had never managed to get out of her tortuous paths because, very wisely, she had never given him her threads, leaving him lost forever in her maze.

"When I fight Chrollo, who do you want to survive?" He didn’t know where this question came from when it left his mouth, but the reaction it had caused in the woman justified it.

Machi blinked a few times, as if trying to calculate the seriousness of what he had asked, and then closed her eyes with a certain solemnity.

"I don't want you to fight Danchou. I don't want either of you dead."

Perhaps the answer was more than enough, but she had also progressively got closer to him, so much so that her lips touched his lightly at first, completing the touch quickly in a kiss. Without so much lightness, he finally advanced against her mouth, pressing her against the wall now with the weight of his own body.

Machi moaned at his advance, embracing him with arms and legs irresistibly, making him also express the delight that took his body and his aura when, suddenly, she stepped away from him, with such assertiveness and urgency that he couldn't stop it.

And he was thankful for that when he saw her turn and lean her body, finally fulfilling the omen he had moments ago, throwing up on the floor of the hotel room.

Hisoka gave a disappointed snort, but the way her back curved with each spasm of her stomach made him quickly accept that this night would really be unique in his life.

The night he would spend taking care of someone's booze.

[...]

Machi opened her eyes, but the ambient light hurt like a razor and she hid her face in the pillow by reflex. Both her head and stomach were aching with an intensity that made any thought difficult, but when she smelled Hisoka's scent on the pillowcase, she knew something was very wrong. She fought the pain and opened her eyes at once, sitting on the bed and trying to identify where she was. A messy double bed, a hotel room lit with curtains open. Then she found herself wearing only a stretched, cropped T-shirt with playing card suits printed and panties that she at least recognized as her own.

Her nightmare was completed when she heard the magician's happy voice humming at the bedroom door.

"Good morning sunshine!"

There he was, holding a breakfast tray and wearing nothing but one of his ridiculous pants.

Machi wanted to disappear, but the best she could do was cover herself with the bedsheets.

"Don't worry, I saw all this and much more last night," Hisoka stated at her gesture as he left the tray on the nightstand and sat beside her on the bed.

She wanted to emanate bloodlust to let him know it wasn't funny, but the pain in her body prevented her, so she just squinted, watching him pour coffee in a cup and hold it out to her.

"Take this, it will make you feel better."

Machi held the cup suspiciously, without bringing it to her mouth, however. The smell of the drink, which at another time would be inviting, made her stomach turn.

"What's going on? What did you do to me?"

"Now, now, don't you remember anything?" He lay on his stomach beside her, looking at her in that paradoxically, uncomfortable and inviting way.

Machi vaguely remembered some things, but none of them made sense. So she let Hisoka continue:

"I saw you at a party yesterday by chance, you were already… happy… so don't ask me anything before that. You were dancing with a man who is dead now. I got him out of the way because he wasn't treating you like you deserve. So we danced, I made you laugh a few times, I brought you here, we made many, delicious things on the couch, and then against the wall, but unfortunately, you got sick and, by the way, that's why I pay to stay here, they clean up this kind of a mess," the smile broke with malice on his lips, while she tried to assimilate everything he said. "Now you, I was the one who cleaned you up. We took a hot shower together and you fell asleep in my arms soon after."

The sharp pain in her head seemed to create a wall in her own memories and in her ability to distinguish, in his words, what were lies and what were truths. Machi knew he was lying; it was too perfect a situation for him. Too easy. But the way she found herself left her without arguments.

"Well, I don't feel like we did anything much last night," she tried to fish, her voice cold, but he just laughed briefly.

"I was gentle with you this time. Believe it or not, I care about you."

"Liar," Machi accused him coldly, and then abandoned the cup on the nightstand beside her, making an effort to get out of bed, despite the pain.

It was incredible how she, always so resistant, was now suffering just because of a headache.

Machi looked for her clothes in the room, finding them folded on a chair, and began to dress while her other headache who was lying on the bed brought to him the cup she had abandoned — using nen, most likely — sipping and mumbling something about how she really should have drunk the coffee to feel better. Her eyes looked at Hisoka briefly. From her position, she had a wide view of his back, and the absence of the spider tattoo there, which was no longer needed because he was no longer keeping cover, seemed to make her a little dizzy.

How had she not realized before that his tattoo was nothing more than his Texture Surprise? How had her intuition not warned her that he was lying all the time? And why was the real Hisoka — well, at least, the Hisoka who no longer had to pretend he belonged with the Troupe — bothering to bring her coffee in bed?

She shook her head, with the excuse of trying to fix her hair, when in fact Machi was trying to put away those pathetic thoughts, even if the gesture caused her more pain. As soon as she buttoned up her jeans she headed to the bedroom door, stopping in her tracks, however, by his words, or by the unconscious desire to hear them.

"You should stay, you're not completely recovered and it's cold outside."

Hisoka sat on the bed but just looked at her with that serenity of someone who knows what they want, and knows that the object of their desire wants them in return. But it wouldn't happen today, and possibly, on any other day after he revealed his betrayal, Machi tried to conclude.

"I know how to take care of myself," she replied, determined to continue on her way.

"At least get a coat before you leave..."

"Stop pretending that you worry, you know you don't have to fake it anymore!" Machi declared, like an outburst, and finally left the room, slamming the door behind her.

Alone, Hisoka deposited the cup on the tray and lay down on the bed, taking a deep breath when feeling its comfort. He had missed it after spending the night on the couch.

He had obviously intertwined lies and truths in the story he told her. After Machi felt sick, he had actually called the room service to clean up the mess while he undressed and bathed her in the bathroom; she was so lethargic that she didn't even protest. Nor had she protested when he dressed her in his t-shirt and left her sleeping alone in his bed. Just that, and nothing more than that.

Still, he knew that last night had been very interesting and revealing in many ways, and he was satisfied with that.

He looked to the side and found a pink strand of hair on the white pillow. He took it between his fingers, bringing it to him as if it were a beautiful and precious memento.

"You have no idea, do you?" He murmured to that tiny part of her she had left behind. "You have absolutely no idea..."

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Fifty One

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

December 27th, 1987

Toby was standing with his back to Remy, chin jut out in challenge at their mother. Remy was watching with wide-eyed terror. Their mother’s eyes flashed dangerously as she said, “Tobias, get out of the way.”

“No!” Toby repeated, arms spread to shield Remy as best he could. “Remy’s just a kid, Mom, he didn’t know! No one told him not to touch Grandmother’s photos, and he just wanted to see what they were! He wasn’t invading her privacy on purpose!”

Remy just stood there in silence, not able to speak a word in his defense, or even an insistence that Toby not get hurt on his account. Instead, he watched this silent standstill, waiting to see who would win.

Their mother turned, leaving in a huff, and Toby immediately turned to Remy, hugging him tight. “Are you okay?” Toby asked.

Remy nodded, even as he started to shake and cry. “Mom’s scary,” he whispered.

“I know,” Toby soothed. “I know she gets scary. But I’m not letting her hurt you for something that wasn’t your fault.”

“No, Toby,” Remy said. “She’s scary all the time.”

Toby sighed. “I wish I could stop her,” he admittedly softly. “Maybe one day...”

  December 24th, 2001

Emile and Remy walked into Emile’s grandfather’s house, and Emile whistled. “Anybody home?!” he called with a grin on his face.

“You’re such a dork,” Remy whispered to him.

“You know it!” Emile said with a wink.

Before Remy could escalate the discussion further than that, however, there was the sound of squealing and soon a considerable amount of tiny children were swarming Emile. He laughed and hugged each of them, naming them all without even a second to pause. “How do you do that?” Remy asked after greeting them all.

Emile looked him dead in the eye before simply saying, “Very carefully.”

The kids turned from Emile to look at Remy, and they grew quiet. “Who’s he?” one of the older girls asked.

“This is my friend Remy,” Emile said. “He doesn’t have any family to celebrate Christmas with, so I invited him to celebrate Christmas with us.”

“Does he know about early morning Mass?” the girl asked.

“Uh, he does, but I’ve talked about it with my parents and Grandpa, and they agreed that he doesn’t have to go if he’s not comfortable with it,” Emile said.

“Lucky!” the girl groaned. “I don’t like waking up early for Mass.”

Remy scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, the only reason I get out of going is...well, I’ve never been to a Mass before. Like, I’ve been to a wedding or two, but never an actual Mass. I wasn’t raised Catholic.”

“Yeah, and I still have to go,” Emile said. “Especially since it’s been a while since I last went to Confessional.”

Remy glanced at Emile. “Sorry I couldn’t get you out of the early morning service,” he said. “I did try.”

“I know you did,” Emile laughed. “But I wouldn’t want to go to the afternoon one if it weren’t with my family, and too many of our family members are visiting family friends in the afternoon for us to all go then.”

Remy shrugged. “Fair enough. Now, are the gremlins going to let us further in the house or is there a ritual we have to go through first?”

Emile laughed. “No ritual, just be careful not to step on their toes, because they will be following us around for a bit.”

The fact that there wasn’t even a single protest to that statement spoke volumes. Emile and Remy walked further in, Remy stopping off at the kitchen to drop off the pie he and Emile had made earlier. When he followed Emile into what he assumed was the living room, everyone there who saw Emile greeted him warmly. When they looked past him to Remy, Remy offered a weak wave. “Uh, hi everybody,” he said.

There was a brief second of silence before he got the same round of greetings, people coming up and shaking his hand, explaining whether they were Emile’s aunt, or uncle, or second cousin, or what-have-you. After enough of these greetings to make Remy’s head spin, he heard a familiar voice call his name. He turned to see Emile’s mom approaching him and he hugged her with a smile. “Nice to see you again, Misses Thomas.”

“You too, sweetheart,” she said. “How’s everything at home with Emile? He’s being a good roommate? I can talk to him if he’s not behaving.”

Emile made an offended noise next to Remy as Remy laughed. “He’s been great, Misses Thomas. We both have been. It’s nice to be able to visit people over Christmas, though, even if it isn’t strictly my family.”

“Not yet, at any rate,” Emile said under his breath and Remy whacked him lightly in the arm. “Well, my parents are dead set on having you as a son one way or another, Rem, I’m just saying the truth.”

“True, but you don’t don’t have to announce it to the whole room,” Remy said with hushed urgency in his tone.

“Remy, relax, it’s okay,” Emile said. “No need to be nervous around my family. They’ve heard nothing but good things about you.”

Remy took a shaky breath. “Okay,” he said.

As everyone turned back to the conversations they were already having, Emile’s younger cousins were proceeding to run around the room, doing anything from playing with blocks to reading. Emile and Remy grabbed seats on the couch and Remy had to resist the urge to move closer, or to grab Emile’s hand. He could really use some comfort right about now, but he knew that if he got the kind of comfort he wanted, Emile could get in trouble. And Remy didn’t want that.

Emile looked at Remy and offered him a small smile. “My grandfather is probably making his way around the room and we just can’t see him yet. He’s a quiet sort of man. Apparently my great-grandmother always threatened to put a bell around his neck like a cat.”

Remy snickered. “Oh, wow, that’s something,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that used as a threat before.”

“It became kinda common around this family,” Emile said. “My grandfather picked it up from my great-grandmother, and everyone found it hilarious as kids, and now that they’re grown-ups they use it on their own kids, and it’s just...kinda dripped down through the generations.”

“Huh,” Remy said. “That’s kinda cool.”

Emile laughed. “I don’t know how many times my aunts and uncles would threaten me with that when I was younger. But I was either the loudest child alive or no one heard me at all. Throughout DnD freshman year all my friends would bring it up and say I always rolled either a crit one or a nat twenty when it came to stealth.”

“I’m sure that would be funnier if I knew what it meant,” Remy said.

“Probably,” Emile agreed.

Before their discussion went any further, though, Remy spotted Emile’s grandfather walking over. “It’s so nice to see you boys again!” he said, shaking Remy’s hand and giving Emile a hug. “How was the rest of your semester, Emile?”

“A little stressful, but nothing that I couldn’t handle,” Emile brushed off.

His grandfather smiled and nodded at him, clearly pleased. He turned to Remy. “And how have you been, son?”

“Pretty good, sir,” Remy said. “I do miss some of my family over the holidays, but I’m really glad that I get to be here with you and the rest of Emile’s family.”

Emile’s grandfather smiled. “It is very considerate of him to bring you here. I don’t know many people who would do that for even their best friends.”

Remy glanced at Emile and said, “Yeah, Emile is certainly a special case.”

Emile laughed and shrugged. “What can I say, Rem? Guilty as charged!”

Remy snickered. Emile’s grandfather looked between them. “You two are very close. You’re very fortunate to have such a strong friendship. I’m sure it can get you through anything.”

“We’ve had our disagreements, sir,” Remy said. “But I think they always give us a better understanding of each other in the end.”

Emile’s grandfather nodded. “Many friendships and relationships are strengthened by communication. Unfortunately, not many people are always willing to communicate.”

Emile cleared his throat and nodded. “I wish I could say I always said what I felt, but I do bottle it up at times.”

“But you’re working to overcome that,” Remy pointed out. “And I say what I feel almost too much; I’m too blunt. But you’ve helped me learn how to be tactful. We compliment each other well.”

Emile’s grandfather nodded at them both approvingly. “Well, then. Are either of you willing to help bring dinner to the table?”

Remy nodded as Emile said, “Yeah, of course!” and they got up and went to the kitchen, grabbing the plates and bowls where most of the food was held and bringing it to the dining room. When they went back into the kitchen, Remy felt his chest tighten without warning. He let out a shaky breath and blinked back tears. He missed Toby.

Emile looked over at him and murmured, “You okay?”

Remy nodded. “I can explain after dinner, sound good?”

“Yeah,” Emile said, although Remy could see the reluctance in Emile’s eyes.

Remy helped put out the rest of the food alongside Emile, and then they took their seats at the table as everyone else made their way over. Emile’s grandfather sat at the head of the table once everyone else was seated, he said grace, and everyone began to eat.

“Cousin Emile?” one of the younger girls asked, “Why do you get to bring a friend to Christmas dinner? Doesn’t he have his own family to have Christmas with?”

Remy tried to ignore the pang in his chest at that as his hand tightened around his fork.

Emile grimaced. “Actually, uh, Grace...he doesn’t have any family to go home to. I brought him here so that he didn’t have to be alone on Christmas.”

“Oh,” Grace said, growing quiet. Then, “Why doesn’t he have family? Doesn’t everyone have family?”

“Grace!” Emile cringed and turned to Remy, murmuring, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Remy said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Kids are curious, I get it.”

Grace, not getting an answer, turned to Remy. “Why don’t you have a family?”

Remy took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. He didn’t regret coming to dinner with Emile, but he wished that maybe the kids had their own table to sit at. “I used to have a family,” Remy said. “But they...uh...they weren’t very nice. So I don’t go to visit them anymore.”

“How weren’t they nice?” Grace asked, ignoring a woman who Remy assumed was her mother telling her to stop.

Remy shrugged. “You know how in like...fairytales and some cartoons and stuff, they have evil stepmothers or dads who don’t care about their kids or mean siblings?”

Grace nodded.

“Well, my mother acted like an evil stepmother, my dad didn’t do anything to stop her and if he tried they’d just end up shouting at each other, and my sister tried to help me when she could but a lot of her ‘help’ boiled down to shutting up and never saying anything or doing anything our parents didn’t want me to do. Except it wasn’t just things like not touching the stove or staying outside too long in the winter that they didn’t want me to do. They didn’t want me to play games like chess, they didn’t want me to study business in college, they didn’t want me to drop out of college when it hurt me, and they didn’t want me to be friends with Emile, just to name a few things.” He knew his face was on fire and his tears were starting to fall, but he couldn’t do anything about that right now. “The only one who ever really helped me was my brother, and I...and I don’t know where he lives, now, so I can’t write to him.”

Everyone at the table was silent as Remy stared at his food and took another shaky breath. “It’s okay, though. Because Emile let me come here so I don’t have to be alone and I don’t have to think about how all my family probably doesn’t even miss me.”

“But what about your brother?” Grace asked. “You said he helped you. Wouldn’t he miss you?”

“Grace, stop,” Emile said. “Remy’s family is not something he likes to talk about. He was kind enough to answer your questions, but Remy knows that his brother would miss him. And he misses his brother. But they can’t call or write because neither of them know where the other is, and because Remy’s parents were bad they won’t tell either of them where the other lives. And it’s wrong and it’s bad and yes, his parents aren’t being fair, but if Remy doesn’t want to talk about it then he shouldn’t have to talk about it. He answered your questions as to why he’s here. Let it go.”

Remy turned red but mumbled a small, “Thank you,” to Emile, and as the last of his tears fell, the conversation moved on, making the rest of the dinner uneventful in comparison.

[lovecanbesostrange]

I’m so glad I’m used to Grey’s making me cry. Guess that will be amped up for this season. But it’s a bit different, because I can already see that the writers try to balance it all with little positive things. They just don’t hold back reality and that is the worst thing right now.

Okay, getting it out of the way. We have confirmation, JO WILSON IS OFFICIALLY BACK. Maybe it’s just because that can of worms is one too many, so let’s go back to something easy and nice. I don’t care why, thanks for finally clarifying that. Also omg, she is an actual doctor. She did actual medical things. I’m baffled. And it was especially mentioned. Wow. This is something I am not used to. (lol DeLuca is an attending now and he only took five years like he was supposed to, even if we ignore the almost one year timejump at the end of S11, Jo’s 5year residency took six years.......)

Well, I got Wilson and Bailey together in an OR and they got to have a rare case and a good outcome and I am always here for Bailey feeling some joy. Plus fuck, Jo observing mother-baby-bonding is emotional as hell. And after Station 19 I was so glad that Carina had a win as well. God, Carina is starting her fourth season and now as Maya’s girlfriend... I like her. Terrible things will start to happen to her soon, right? I mean, witnessing her brother’s mental break already counts.

I feel bad for Schmitt. Except it’s almost a fun running joke by now, getting thrown off of cases... Also, dude, thank you so much for spitting out like that. There are some things you really shouldn’t say during a pandemic. Can I assume he still lives with Jo now? Liked seeing them close.

The Jackson/Link/Helm team-up was also cool. I just want rotating doctor teams treating patients and this was hilarious. Although... do people remember that Private Practice was an actual spin-off that existed with Charlotte King, Sexologist, in it?! Guess that would mean acknowledging Amelia once had another close friend........... (I only really liked Charlotte on that show, would love to know what she is up to now) But hey, the sex therapist lead to another great Amelia/Link moment and I will devour every bit of happiness they share.

The talk between Link and Jackson was great. And once again, two sides of a thing are totally understandable. Link being glad he got to leave the crazy house with the four kids for a day. And Jackson missing spending more time with his daughter. And thank you, thank you, for not just mentioning April, but also Matt.

Speaking of mentions... Alex Karev...... Meredith’s power of attorney..... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa I remember when it was a fun scene discussing healthcare proxies back in S10. Did Alex ever change his? He is known for having trouble with forms (his student debt, the unmailed marriage license) - if he’s in an accident, will Cristina get a call in Switzerland????? A~nyway it is only fair that Maredith picks Richard now. Role reversal and all. At least she tells him before! I was wondering if Bailey tried dropping hints that she wants dibs on pulling Mer’s plug if the time comes........

Watching Meredith run across the beach and faceplanting was such a relief. I laughed way too much, but it’s the stress from the rest of the ep. So thanks for doing that.

I’m glad Maggie has Winston, even if it’s only a video-call. He gets it. And everybody at Grey Sloan should have somebody outside to talk to anyway. But Maggie’s breakdown was so fucking real and awful... doing her best to just be the sister. While losing so many patients. And the way they threw in her mom’s death - yep, new perspective on that, now that people die alone. It’s not a statistic. People are dying.

Laura Cerón on Station 19 and Lisa Vidal on Grey’s, Please import more people from Emergency Room. New interns, well, the Webber speech sure changed... that hit hard. Especially with only three people left. Gonna look out for Mama Ortiz now.

I should say something about Tom. Hmmm... guess somebody has to asymptomatic.

Station 19 was good as well. A tiger. Shouldn’t surprise me, we saw a pet lion before. Ben should be glad they call him Dad. Not Grandpa. XD Still the best dude, good peptalk to Carina. A+ interaction. Seeing a happy Andy sure is weird, will she find five minutes of peace in all of this? Also Webber being Sullivan’s sponsor is a better way for a crossover than more interconnecting romance.

[sireswhore]

Elephant in the Room

Requested? Yes! “imagine a day at the beach with scott before anybody knows you two are together and getting caught by jason and his kids at the beach when they ask ‘isn't that y/n and scott?”

Summary: you and Scott have been secretly dating for a while, your little secret gets exposed by the vlog squad...

Warnings; language, alcohol usage?

“How about this spot?” Scott asks, looking at an empty site on the sand.

“Oh my gosh yes! Perfect, let’s lay this blanket down,” you said eagerly.

You and Scott have secretly been together for about two months now. None of your friends know, and you both were experts at keeping everything under wraps so far.

You guys were so good, that even the fans didn’t suspect anything between the two of you. You both agreed to keep it between each other until the secret simply couldn’t be contained anymore, after all, secrets do have to eventually come out someday.

But today, in this beautiful weather, the two of you were having a date on the beach. Sunglasses were on at all times so you wouldn’t get recognized, although that isn’t 100% reliable, you still felt like the characters on “Starstruck” and that was good enough for you.

After the two of you finished setting everything down, the first thing Scott did was pull out his sunscreen. And before he could open it to squirt some into his hands, you snatched it.

“I’ll do it for you!” You rushed, just wanting an excuse to let your hands run over his upper body. He smirked while laying down, getting ready to let you get to work.

Scott hissed at the coldness of the product on his chest, making you giggle as you kept spreading it evenly on his tatted skin.

Your hands worked on thoroughly rubbing it in, while your fingers traced over every nook and cranny available. You were definitely having a great time, and you haven’t even done his back yet.

“You’re so pretty,” you said as you admired him, finishing the last of the areas you haven’t covered.

He scoffed, “Says you, gorgeous,” Scott tried to wink but forgot that you couldn’t see it, so he smiled instead.

The two of you spent your day vibing to your favorite music, eating, and cute cheesy shit like writing your initials into the sand and piggyback riding to the shore.

And absolutely nothing could go wrong, right? Wrong.

You guys chose the right day but the wrong beach to visit as you both unknowingly came to the same one that Jason comes to with his kids.

He mentioned he was going to rent a house for that same weekend. That detail must’ve slipped your minds because you both were lounging with each other carefree.

You sat in between Scott’s legs, your back against his chest while his arm hugged across yours. Both your eyes focused on the colors of the sky, watching the sunset and talking about how gorgeous it looks.

You turned your head to look up at him, he looked down at you. Scott smiled when he saw your sunglasses had slid down to the tip of your nose, revealing your eyes to him.

Scott lightly placed a finger under your chin before he leaned in you kiss you.

Except it didn’t happen because both of your sunglasses bumped together instead, causing the two of you to laugh.

“Maybe let's take them off for a few seconds, yeah?” he asked.

You nodded, both of you pushed your glasses to the top of your heads and finally met with a warm embrace, reveling in each other's lips.

From a distance, someone could spot them and their whole cover could be blown.

Except someone did spot them, and that someone might’ve blown their cover. That someone was Charlie.

“Daddy isn’t that y/n and Scott over there?” She pointed Jason to where you both were.

Jason saw exactly what she saw, and he couldn’t believe his eyes. He had no idea what to say.

“No Charlie,” he laughs trying to play it off, “that’s not them, they do look like them though,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his head nervously.

“No daddy, it looks like his tattoos and everything,” Wyatt chimed in.

Jason knew they were right, but he just figured to change the subject so they wouldn’t go around saying that to people.

“Guys come on, Scott literally sent me a picture 5 minutes ago saying he was working out in the garage. There's a lot of people out there who may look really similar to the people you know, it’s not them I promise,” he laughs, “c’mon let's go get ice cream before they close,” he rushes as an attempt to distract them from the thought.

And that they did...

_____

A couple of days after, Jason was already spilling the tea.

“...and there they were, on the beach making out and cuddling,” he was telling Carly and Erin in the car, and their mouths hung open like a flytrap.

“NO WAY,” they both said in unison, both in absolute disbelief.

“Deadass,” Jason finalized, and the girls looked at each other.

“Oh my god,” Carly said.

“Who would have thought...,” Erin chimed in, sipping on her drink.

Then shortly the girls broke the news to Matt, who had an even more exaggerated reaction. Soon he told Todd and Zane, Todd telling Natalie, who told David. Zane telling Heath and Mariah and so on and so forth until the entire friend group knew.

Boy that was a lot.

All of them kept in contact with each other, and soon enough they created a separate group chat just to talk about it.

They exchanged thoughts and tried to connect the dots and figure out when this has started going on. All of a sudden they went from Vlog Squad to Scooby-Doo.

Shortly after that was going on, Scott was over at your place, you both received texts from the original group chat saying that we’re all invited to a get-together at Heath and Mariahs the next day.

“So cute! Its been a while since everyone has hung ou- oh my god what if this is an occasion? Do you think she’s pregnant??,” you immediately jumped to conclusions.

Scott chuckled, “Nah I don’t think it’s that serious, they probably just literally want to get everyone to ‘get together’,” he explained.

“You’re no fun,” you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Oh yeah?” next thing you knew he gave you a tickle attack which sent you into a laughing frenzy until you begged for him to stop so you could breathe.

You guys had no clue about what would happen the next day...

__________

“I’m excited for today, I missed having all of us together. Usually, there’s like about half of us hanging out,” you told Scott who wasn’t in the same car as you but he was on speaker as you both drove down to the house.

“Yeah me too, but I’m gonna miss not being able to *be with you* be with you,” he pouted, you couldn’t see him, but you could hear the disappointment in his voice.

“Aw baby me too, but you can be with me after okay?” you told him.

“Ugh fine,” he said playfully.

You giggled at him, “Okay baby I’m almost here I have to hang up,” you said.

“Nooooooooo,” he groaned.

“Yessssssss, I love you bye for now,” you laughed.

“I love you....see you soon,” and you said ‘bye’ again before you hung up on him.

You and Scott both pulled up separately, like you’ve been doing all this time for the past two months.

Scott goes in first, then five to ten minutes later you arrive and come in like it wasn’t planned.

But this time the vibe in the house felt so strange.

Ever since you were let in through the door, you felt as if everyone was glancing at you a little bit longer than usual. But nonetheless, you took it with a grain of salt and shrugged it off.

You all spent time laughing at jokes, telling stories, and whatnot.

After a while, everyone thought it was a great idea to play a game of truth or dare.

“Alright alright, everyone in a circle! Let's play truth or dare,” David shouted.

Everyone who was already sitting on the couch scooted forward, and the rest found a spot on the carpet or on a LoveSac.

You went and found a seat in between Jonah and Jeff, while Scott found a seat next to Todd and Zane. Everyone was surprised at how good you both were at keeping this up, you didn’t sit next to each other, bravo.

Zane had just finished another bottle of corona, and you all used that to pick people at random.

Natalie gave it a spin because she was the closest. The first person to get picked was Corinna, and she was dared to remove her panties and give it to whoever the bottle landed on.

Hilariously enough, the bottle landed on Todd, while the room echoed with ‘oooooh's’ and laughter. What are the odds...

Second was Ilya, and he was dared to lick Jason's toe for a minute. He spent a good five minutes arguing with David trying to negotiate the time, while Jason argued about how he didn’t even get a say in it.

Ilya still did the dare, he did the deed for a good ten seconds at least. David just wanted to see how long he would go.

And finally, the one who everyone has been secretly waiting for, ....you.

The bottle pointed at you and for some reason, your palms started to sweat, and you looked at Scott for a split second before looking at David, who was asking you to choose between truth or dare.

You knew that it was best if you stood on the safe side if David was the one determining your dare, so you chose truth even though it would be equally as bad.

Scott took a swig of his drink to prepare himself for whatever David had in mind.

“So out of everyone here, who’d you fuck?” David smirked, you obviously felt so put on the spot.

Everyone had eyes on you, waiting for the answer they were hoping to hear while Scott slightly choked on his drink.

“Oh um,” you looked around trying to find someone to pick, but more realistically a way out.

“I’m not gonna lie, probably Ilya...,” you lied, you didn’t even believe yourself at this point.

“Oh really? You’re sure you wouldn’t pick Scott?”Zane asked in a daring tone.

All of a sudden your heart skipped a beat before it started racing while your face felt hotter than a teapot.

‘What do they know?’ you thought to yourself.

“W-What are you talking about?” you still tried to act like you had know idea of what they mean.

“Well Jason found you and him at the beach together and since you guys are obviously dating we’d be sure you’d pick him,” David said.

And there it was. The elephant in the room finally has it’s time to shine.

You genuinely had no idea of what to say this time.

Scott was sitting comfortably in his seat quietly while you were getting all the heat.

“Uh, don’t just look at me! Look at him!,” you pointed at Scott to ease the tension off of you.

Now he knew what that felt like.

“Alright alright, we’re together. We’re sorry you had to find out this way…” he confessed.

Damn he cracked quick...

“Baby but why did you keep it from us? You know we wouldn’t judge you for it. We’re here for you baby,” Zane said to the both of you.

“We know, we just wanted to wait for the right time to tell you,” Scott explains, looking at you.

The both of you made eye contact with each other for a little longer than a second before looking away.

“Well don’t just sit there girl, be with him baby!,” Heath scolded, and you blushed, getting up to sit on Scott’s lap.

Everyone cheered when you wrapped one arm around his neck, and he had his wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a small kiss.

Jonah was already over it and he yelled at David to continue the game.

You all laughed before Natalie spun the bottle again, resuming the game.

Scott loved how he could be closer to you now that everyone was focused on something else. He bought his lips to the spot behind your ear, getting chills from his slight touch.

“So Ilya huh?” he whispered, sounding a little jealous but he was only half-serious.

“Oh shut it, you know it’s not true,” you giggled, squishing his cheeks with one hand.

I guess finally talking about the elephant in the room wasn't as bad as you thought...

<3

[crysanthemumlotus]

Drarry Fic Snippet

It was a cold dark night in Godric's Hollow, and Lily Potter was holding a spray can and drawing magic circle on the floor of her son's room. Like any other responsible parent out there, she worried about the effect of the fumes on her son's lungs, but considering that the most notorious wizard of all times was out there in her living room, relocating either her activity or her son was out of the question.

"You shall not lay a hand on my son!" James Potter cried out, hurling another jinx which broke something, possibly the ugly vase Dumbledore got them for their wedding. Good riddance, she absently thought, before sharpening her focus back to the magic circle. It was almost done.

With a flourish, she finished the last symbol and stood at the edge of the circle, her back to the door. From his crib, Harry Potter watched with much interest and glee. Lily smiled at him. "Everything's going to be alright, love, you'll see."

Outside, He Who Must Not Be Named cackled disturbingly, the voice of which sent shivers down her spin. She took a steadying breath and began lighting the nine candles, placing them in equidistance around the circle.

"This is your end, James Potter! Avada Kedavra!"

The incantation of that spell was followed by a dull thud. Lily took a steadying breath and picked up the knife lying on wardrobe nearby. She only hesitated for a second, before gritting her teeth and slicing her upper arm, letting the blood drop on the middle of the circle. And then, she began the summoning chant.

"In Nomine Dei Nostri, Satanas Luciferi Excelsi, Ave Voluptartis Canis."

The white, spray-can painted summoning circle began to glow with an unearthly light. She repeated the chant again, and the light grew exponentially brighter. She chanted it one last time, and a blinding light engulfed the whole room. Lily shielded her eyes.

When the light subsided, she opened her eyes, and saw, in the middle of the circle, a pitiful young man in black trenchcoat, curled up in a fetal position with a bottle of unidentifiable liquid clutched in one of his hand. He looked positively wasted. 

Oh fuck, Lily cursed, I did something wrong. Internally, she began to panic. Outside, He Who Must Not Be Named was flinging the doors open dramatically, one by one. There was no time left to redo the summoning ritual. She looked down at the strange... person and began to think.

Well, she did summon him through the circle, right? At the very least, he's got to have some kind of power to protect them, right? She heard the sound of another door being broken off its hinges, this time louder.

"Why is there so many rooms in this place?" He Who Must Not Be Named complained loudly.

Lily gasped, and in her panic, crouched down by the man and grabbed him by his lapels, "Wake up! Wake up, damn it!" she hissed, desperately shaking him.

The man moaned, wincing, "Jesus Christ, fuck off, Gabe."

"Come on, wake up! Wake up! I need your help, goddamnit! Wake up!" she was sounding more and more hysterical by the second.

The man grunted, then finally, opened his eyes. "Ow, what the fuck? Whe–" he rubbed his face, groggily sitting up, "Where the fuck am I?"

"You're in my house! I summoned you because I need your help! Please, you've got to protect us! A madman has come to kill me and my son! Please, you've got to do something!"

"The fuck...?" he moaned again, "Ow, fuck. My head."

Lily has never performed the summoning spell before. She only read it in a book, one which she randomly found in a flea market in America. The book was in Latin, so it was a bit hard to translate, but she was pretty sure they said that this was meant to summon a magical being of unimaginable power. This was not what she was expecting at all. Maybe James was right, maybe that book was a sham. Oh, then whatever shall–

Before she can finish that thought, the door to the nursery slammed open, and the notorious He Who Must Not Be Named stepped inside. Lily shuddered in fear, his magic slickened the air like rancid oil. Oh, how much she hated him.

"Stand back! Stay away from my son!" Lily screamed, standing up to face the Dark Lord. She pulled out her and pointed it at him.

A lazy grin broke out on the Dark Lord's face. "Stand aside, woman. I shall spare your life if you follow my orders."

"Never!" she spat out. "Expelliarmus!"

With a lazy flick of his wand, Lord Voldermort deflected the spell. He took a step closer.

"Flipendo!"

Again, he deflected the spell without much effort, and took another step forward.

"Y-You! Crucio!"

The Dark Lord tilted his head, waited. Nothing happened. "I guess that tickled a bit," he finally said, before throwing his head back to laugh. "Last chance, woman. Step. Aside." He was right in front of Lily by now. 

"Never," she repeated, bravely, while looking at the horrible face of the madman who had killed her husband.

"Then per–!"

His words were cut-off by another loud groan. He looked over Lily's shoulder to find the strange blond man pulling himself up to his feet. He was swaying, and had to hold onto the edge of the crib to remain upright. He was the perfect picture of a hammered man.

"Alright, what the fuck is going on here?" The man asked, before he turned his gaze to the ceiling, "Gabe, whatever the fuck this is, it's not fucking funny! Cut it out before I strangle you, you little snit!" He moaned again, before noticing the bottle in his hand for the first time. He gave it an experimental shake, found that it was not empty, and took a hefty swig.

Lily and He Who Must Not Be Named watched on curiously, with the former feeling slightly mortified at the amount of cursing the man was doing in front of her son. That was just not done.

The man returned his attention to them, gaze suspicious and expectant. He was still alarmingly swaying. He sniffed the air once, twice, before a confused expression settled on his face. "I'm on Earth."

"Yes," Lily said slowly. "You're on Earth."

"Oh," he looked at the bottle in his hand, inspected the label, found none, and turned his baffled expression to Lily once more. "I didn't remember getting here. How did I get here? Do you remember?"

"I don't remember, I know," Lily was starting to regret summoning him. "I summoned you." she gestured at the magic circle around his feet.

He followed her gaze, and recognition dawned on him. "Oh," he giggled, "Oh that's how! Brilliant!" He then walked out of the circle, and dropped down on the sofa Lily and James had placed next to the crib. It was an old, ratty thing, the kind that gets only more comfortable the rattier it got. He dropped himself on it and groaned indecently. "Been a while, since someone summoned me with that," he said, eyes already half-closing.

"What did you summon?" The Dark Lord asked, his intellectual side piqued.

"Hey, hey, that's..." the man waved his hand vaguely in the air, "Rude. Very rude."

"What's rude?" Lily asked, frowning.

"That," he gestured at the Dark Lord. "That is rude."

"What is that?"

"What is what?" the man burst into a fit of giggle. "What is anything? Oh god, you people are hilarious!"

The Dark Lord, already losing interest, turned his attention to Lily again. "Anyway, as I was saying–"

"Oh, right, where are my manners," the man suddenly put aside the bottle and shot up to his feet, clapping his hands as he did so. He searched his coat for a moment, before pulling out a card with a triumphant 'aha!'. Still dangerously swaying, he walked over and handed the card to Lily. 

"Draco Malfoy, professional dealer, at your service, ma'am."

He tried to bow, but nearly topped over and thought better of it, settling to offer her a charming smile full of sharp teeth instead. Too full, perhaps.

Lily looked down at the card and read it out loud, "Lucifer Satan, Morning Star, the First Angel, Ruler of Hell, King of All That Is Fallen, Dark–"

The man—Draco—clumsily snatched the card out of her hand. "Whoops, sorry. Wrong card. Haven't used that one in millenias! Ah, here's the right one!"

Lily took the new proffered. Compared to the previous one, which was filled from top to bottom with titles, this one only had three, neatly printed words; 'Draco Malfoy. Dealer.'

"You're... A dealer? As in...? Cars? Or illegal drugs?"

"No, no, no, no, no, NO!" Draco threw his head back to laugh. "Although, if that's what you want, lady, we can work out a deal. The car, I mean. Not the illegal drugs. I've got tonnes of that to spare, and I'm always happy to share happiness with everyone, including you, noseless!"

The Dark Lord frowned, clearly offended.

"So, what do you mean, dealer? What is it?" Lily asked again.

"I," Draco swayed again, "Whoops, sorry lady, mind if I sit down? Asgardian meads are vicious!" he went back to the chair and flopped down bonelessly once again. "So anyway, where was I? Oh right, dealer. Deal, deals, dealing." He burst into another fit of giggles.

"So, it all started before the First Human was ever created. I was vice-president director of Heaven, groomed to be the next president director, and the youngest in history too, not that there was much history to begin with, mind you. I mean, it was just set up a couple of hours before this story began. So yeah, there was nothing impressive about that. There was nothing impressive about Heaven at all, actually. Everything there was white and boring, no alcohol, no lunch breaks, and only this nasty tune," he hummed a rather sweet and calming tune, "Playing over and over and over again in the background! So I said to God, hey pops what do you say we–"

"Can you get to the point, some of us is on a deadline here!" The Dark Lord yelled.

"Alright, alright, yeesh, fine! What do you want, lady?"

"What do I want?"

"Yes, you! I'm talking to you! You're the one who called, right?"

"Um, yes."

"Well, what do you want from me?"

Lily hesitated, "I want you to... Protect my son from this... Man, right here."

"Is that all?"

"Yes," she nodded, slightly more certain. "That's all."

"Alright, then come over here and shake my hand." he held out his hand, "Come on lady, you heard the guy there, he's on a deadline. Gotta help the poor man, you see? He's probably got a nice wife and a litter of noseless kids to feed back home. Just imagine what would happen to them if he lost his job thanks to you."

"I'm pretty sure that's not the case," she stepped closer to him, and took the proffered hand. 

The moment their hands clasped, a blue fire engulfed their entwined hands, and she felt something in her uneasily shifted.

"There, all done!" Draco let go of her hand and smiled winningly at her, "Well, nice doing business with you, lady. Now time to go back to the party and get even more wasted! See you around!"

One moment he was there, and the next moment he was gone. "Huh," Lily wondered out loud, "That was weird."

"Yes, I agree," the Dark Lord said. "Now can we get back to what we were doing?"

Lily looked down at the wand in her hand. 

She shouldn't have bought that stupid book.

[homenum-revelio-hq]

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Erin!

You have been accepted for the role of LUCINDA TALKALOT with the facelaim change of Alisha Boe! We are thrilled to have Lucinda on the dash! We’re so excited to see what you bring to her, especially with her being thrown into this whole new world. We can’t wait to see her come into her own! Welcome to the roleplay!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME & PRONOUNS: Erin she/her

AGE: 26. Yeesh.

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I never work later than 6 on the weekdays and I’m always off on the weekends, so I should definitely be able to meet the minimum! My hope is to be active for a little bit every day, but knowing that life gets in the way, my realistic expectations is a session about three times a week.

ANYTHING ELSE: I’ve done a few Tumblr rps, but it’s been a bit since my last one. For an idea, I go all the way back to the Hogwarts Extreme days. Yeah. I’m old.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Lucinda Moira Talkalot

AGE: 19 years old as of the current timeline (February 27)

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cisgender female, she/her, and, as of now, she identifies as heterosexual.

BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Slytherin

ANY CHANGES: I’d love to use Alisha Boe!

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY: 

Lucinda Talkalot had always enjoyed radio dramas. Everything felt so dramatic and over the top and so unlike life. It was all pretty hilarious, the overblown dialogue and long, meandering monologues. Personally, although she thought it was all very cute, she was very happy she lived in reality, away from all the melodrama. Life wasn’t a radio play. If it was, Lucinda would happily play Dry, Sarcastic British Girl #132. And that was only if there weren’t any tree roles leftover. No one could quite put their finger on what came over the Sorting Hat to place her in Slytherin, least of all Lucinda. She took great pride in Just Being Lucinda, and was shocked to find herself suddenly sharing a room with multi-galleonaires. Not that it wasn’t neat. It was pretty neat. Like when Maribel Sparksley accidentally received her sister’s invitation to Reginald Wishwell’s Spring Cotillion on last week’s radio program. But, they all had this… oomph. No other sound effect to describe it. They had it, and she just… didn’t. She’d tried. Well, within reason. There were just some things that definitely weren’t her. Most often, they were simply too… much? She was okay with Just Being Lucinda, and most people in her life agreed. Happy with the occasional withering comment, good for a chuckle, practicing her potion-making (which she was just okay at, but that was fine with her,) happy to be who. she. was. Except for two people, both wonderful but uncomfortably pushy. First: her Quidditch captain. Lucinda had joined up because she thought it would be a fun way to pass some time, and she wound up as captain by the end of her career. All because she’d made a few quick adjustments when the chips were down. It had been a struggle for her, but dear old captain had convinced her that Just Being Lucinda was enough. Captaining a Quidditch team wasn’t as “too much” as it seemed, and the responsibilities were fewer than she thought. But, the idea of going any further than that was just completely out of the question. That adventure was plenty for her, and she was content with what she’d accomplished. Gave her something to do besides training with Uncle Maxim for when she’d inevitably go to work at (the aptly named) Maxim’s, her uncle’s long-standing apothecary, focused on “beautifying” potions. Not exactly her cup of tea, but it was a guaranteed job out of Hogwarts. But, beyond her tenacious Quidditch captain, the last pushy individual in her life was her fifth year Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher (buggers never seemed to last very long.) They were beginning their study of dueling spells and techniques, and Lucinda was visibly uncomfortable. Defense Against the Dark Arts had always been her least favorite class. It just felt very unnecessary to focus on all this doom and gloom and darkness. It’s not like Reginald Wishwell was going to burst in and attack them for crashing his party. It’s all pretty nonsensical. But, all thoughts if nonsense went out of her head when she first flicked her wand and watched her target crumble before her. From somewhere deep inside she felt something stir, almost like a want, or, more troubling, like a need. Some stray passing thought vaguely pondered if it might be that “oomph” she’d been looking for. And, when she looked down the line of targets, she saw hers was the only one so shattered. Her professor couldn’t help but whoop out a “Good show, Talkalot!” while the thrill in Lucinda’s gut gave way to a sort of pain. The same sort of distant pain she’d felt when dear old captain had handed her the reins for the Slytherin team. It went on like this for the next few weeks. They’d learn a new skill and Lucinda stood out while her insides vanished. She’d have a good-hearted laugh with her classmates afterwards, ever the joker, ever the obfuscator. It was all so silly. As if they’d ever use any if this. Then, came dueling day. Lucinda had been dreading it. They were paired up and professor gave the signal and off they went. Her opponent tumbled out of play after only one shot from her. One! She’d indicated what she was about to do as hard as she could, and yet they didn’t make one move to stop her! There were other opponents that were more difficult, but Lucinda couldn’t seem to turn it off, though part of her wanted to. It went from pairs vs pairs to the class vs Lucinda. Professor’s allegiance became embarrassingly apparent, as she couldn’t help but smile enthusiastically whenever Lucinda was crowned victorious. By the end of class, no one had beaten her. She was just too quick. And, all of them had been so easy to spot, their wand movements so languid and apparent, how could she not have guessed which spell was coming? It wasn’t a big deal. She was Just Being Lucinda. When she went to pack her things and meet up with her friends for their usual session to take the mick out of the class, professor stopped her, that enthusiastic grin still plastered on her face. “Have you ever considered joining the Dueling Club?” Lucinda nearly snorted, but managed to catch herself. She tried to imagine it, but the image was so hilarious she couldn’t picture it for long. A dueling club? Of course, she’d heard of it, but the idea of it was just as funny as the idea of her participating in it. What, was she going to be an auror or something? Ridiculous. Lucinda allowed herself a small, good-natured chuckle and politely declined. Thanks, but no thanks. But, she was persistent, and Lucinda had to dodge her until she was inevitably replaced. The rest of her career at Hogwarts was mercifully average, even considering her career as captain. Her potion-making was good enough to earn her that job at Maxim’s, and she was content, so long as she avoided her uncle’s attempts to talk politics with her. He had always been the alarmist of the family, and he didn’t need anyone feeding into his paranoia. But, Lucinda started to take notice of some strange orders coming into Maxim’s. She didn’t make the potions herself, just assisted her uncle and the other major potioneers, but there was something… off. She didn’t always recognize what they were for, though she wasn’t a particularly skilled potioneer. Not to mention, she found the general subject deathly boring and learned only the bare minimum required. Then, came the attack. It was as if everything until then in Lucinda’s life had been playing in monochrome and it all burst to sudden, grotesque, horrendous technicolor. The sharp definition of it all made her sick, and the illusion she’d never known she was spinning shattered. Suddenly, she was on the wrong side of the word “pointless." Everything would be different now. Except that she’d been right. Life wasn’t like a radio play.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY: 

The Talkalot family is your average mixed-house heritage clan. Dad’s a Hufflepuff, Mum’s a Ravenclaw, and they were both shocked but thrilled to hear Luci had been sorted into Slytherin, just like Uncle Maxim! Most importantly, they found some peace hearing that Lucinda would be amongst Slytherins, hoping some of that aforementioned "oomph” would rub off on her. That she’d finally commit to something, for Merlin’s sake. But, Lucinda’s sorting into Slytherin solidified her choice to follow in her uncle’s path, which was somewhat disappointing to them. Well, at least she’d be taken care of. Uncle Maxim was a good role model, an exemplary business-oriented Slytherin, keeping his head to the grindstone. She’d be in good hands.

OCCUPATION: 

Lucinda previously worked in her uncle’s shop as an assistant, but, obviously, that’s no longer possible. For now, she’s not thinking too far ahead and has decided to focus her time on the Order, telling her parents she’s found a new job.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER: 

Lucinda’s decision to join up was almost done on autopilot: She’d barely believed she’d done it until it was already done. But, what else was there to do? She couldn’t just stare down the Dark Mark, the actual-bloody-Dark-Mark-holy-hell, and not do… something! When it came time to offer up her talents, her vibrato faltered. Just Being Lucinda probably wasn’t going to cut it in the Order but, without thinking, she offered up her talents as a potioneer’s assistant, while mentioning she’d played some Quidditch back in Hogwarts. Of course, the actual talents she’s scared of still linger under the surface, her quick thinking, level-head, and, of course, her raw, natural dueling skills.  If she could be convinced that risking the fall is worth the leap, she’d finally be able to let herself enjoy being out on the frontlines where she belongs.

SURVIVAL: 

The Talkalots, in general, are nobodies. No fortune to speak of, but not destitute, either. Both of Lucinda’s parents work as office clerks for the Ministry, and not even in the fanciful departments. So, Lucinda has been and still lives at home,, content to get started at life once she was good and ready. Uncle Maxim was the only one who’d apparently kicked up some sort of minor stir. Whether Lucinda will ultimately find his actions foolish or necessary is yet to be seen.

RELATIONSHIPS: 

Lucinda was fairly popular amongst her housemates, but she was no superstar, either. She was well-known for her somewhat deadpan sense of humor, and was considered generally unoffensive as a person. The person she was most shocked to consider her friend was Emma Vanity. Yes, that Emma Vanity. Emma was definitely the most interesting to talk to out of the girls, since her life was something right out of Lucinda’s radio plays. She was most shocked to find out how accurate a lot of it was, all that bowing and kow-towing. Also, Lucinda never thought she’d personally know someone in an arranged marriage, and she definitely never thought she’d be 16 and faced with giving condolences to one of her friends for the death of her fiancee. There were rumblings about what caused it, but, in classic Lucinda fashion, she considered the implications far too extreme and cancelled them out. Calling someone the “d” word (Death Eater) without concrete evidence was a bit much, especially since their friend was going to marry him. But, ever so practical Lucinda would eventually become less chivalrous towards Emma. Listen. One month is one thing. Two is another. Three is when it starts to be a bit much. The other girls started whispering when Emma wasn’t around about how pathetic it all was becoming, and at first Lucinda disagreed, inside her own head, of course. But, after a while, Emma brought with her that same doom and gloom she encountered in Defense Against the Dark Arts. She was a constant reminder of all those things Lucinda found so foreign, and she couldn’t help but turn a blind eye as Emma was slowly “uninvited” from the group. The mood lifted and the jokes were landing again, but Lucinda did occasionally feel a small twinge of guilt when she thought about it. Another on th list of unexpected acquaintances was Regulus Black. Again. Yes. THAT Regulus Black. She remembered walking into the Quidditch pitch for her first practice and seeing him, hanging around as though it was the most natural thing in the world. He wasn’t much like what most people thought of him. He wasn’t someone you’d call to liven up a party, but he also wasn’t unwelcoming. They actually shared plenty of conversations, though they never got particularly close. She’d heard about his love for Divination and knew it would be better to keep a safe distance. She’d rather not mess with that sort of stuff. Less she knows about that the better. His death was probably the biggest shock in her life before the attack. She’d never absolutely personally known a person that had died before. Antonin was one thing, but Regulus had been a full, three dimensional person in her daily life for a few years. It was surreal. Then, there was Daisy Hookum. Thankfully, they’d never been very close. She was a complete nuisance. Way too in-your-face and took things far too seriously all the time. Her thing with the muggles was just way too over the top. What was so interesting about them anyway? They're muggles. She was so pleased when she was gone, and it had only been one year. Nothing worse than a person who takes something like being a half-blood and turning it into their entire personality. Otherwise, her Uncle Maxim had really become her best friend since she’d started working with him.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: 

As with most people, I ship Lucinda with chemistry, but I get this feeling off of her that she might enjoy someone older, maybe quite a bit older. It would place her well out of her comfort zone (which needs to happen) and I happen to think they work very well when done right. But, ultimately, I’m for anything that feels appropriate, and would never actually try to break up any established ships. (Though I won’t promise Lucinda won’t crush on anyone she ultimately can’t have. Lol!)

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE? 

Lucinda, more than anything, has the privilege of doubt. She has room and time to waste doubting her own abilities, doubting other people’s perceptions, questioning their methods and her own until they’ve all talked themselves into a frenzy while claiming this simply makes her rational. She’s also allergic to bad news, even after her recent bout with some downright terrible news. She’d rather not know, though she might be more likely to brace herself and hear it. So long as you get it over with fast. Lol. All in all, Lucinda is what an inverted classical Slytherin personality would look like. Her “I don’t take anything seriously” persona was cultivated to protect herself from her own competitive perfectionist nature. To try is to risk failure or looking stupid, so better not to try. To believe anything is to risk being wrong and looking dumb, so doubt everything. There is a strange perfectionism in her cultivated “laidback” attitude, leading to her remaining “laidback” through two deaths and her friend getting put out because of one. Because, to care for even one moment could lead to, well, the mental state we’ll find Lucinda in after the attack. Frazzled, all nerves, shell-shocked. Regarding blood purity, if you’re wixen, you’re wixen. She has no opinions on the nitty gritty of who’s “worthiest” amongst wix. But, muggles are a bit of another story. If you asked her, she’d say she liked them, but that’s about as far as it goes. She tepidly “likes” them, but has little interest in them or their affairs. They’re just muggles. Whatever.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? 

I’m really excited to work through this plot as a collaborative piece! Having everyone all on the same side is a brilliant idea and helps with offering up parameters to encourage creativity.

PLOT DROP IDEAS (OPTIONAL): Other than a reason for Lucinda to pull out her wand and own it, nothing!

ANYTHING ELSE? Nope!

[always5hineee]

Hell and Back- Chapter 42: Game Master (Trials 90-100)

Word count: 2403

Chapter warnings: Mild language, themes

-----

       Their next trial was exactly the same. All that happened was the number switched from 89 to 90. It honestly had her wondering if there ever really were trials where they had earned skips, or if the game simply knew who it intended to die. She was questioning the power behind it. It was already strange that they'd be able to give her, as they'd stated, whatever she wanted. She remembered that offer.

      You have been given the opportunity to make a wish. The wish can be anything, quite literally. Do not underestimate our capabilities by making a trivial request. If we so choose, you may be invited to earn this wish. You are under no obligation should your wish be selected. You may only wish once.

       It was ridiculous. It was so ridiculous, she had chosen to partake. At the time, it seemed like a blessing. Now it was a living nightmare, one she wasn't quite sure she'd be able to fix. She had yet to tell anyone of her deception regarding the wish as well. Before, she'd figured that they'd be supportive, but... now that people were dead? The likelihood decreased with every carcass. Even if they were going to forgive her, would there be anyone left to do so by the end? They were in the final stretch now, but her hope was draining.

       It took them nearly a two full days to find the room they were meant to come upon. In walking through the doors, they first found similar rooms, then mazes like they had previously, (although this time, they were sans Kris's fireworks to see them through). Not only that, but Kris's leg was barely functional. He tried to reassure them that he could handle it, but putting stress on him wouldn't help anyone. They would take turns helping him along as he leaned on them. They would have carried him, but he would have found it humiliating, not to mention his weight being a significant factor.

       They ran out of diet supplementary pulls by the end of the first day. Of course, they didn't know if it was actually night or not, but they did know when they became too tired to continue on. No one knew how long they slept, and no one said much. Kris tried to make his usual shitty jokes, but they honestly just came off as mean, so he cut it out. The same happened with Baekhyun's goofy attitude- he was finding it harder and harder. to even bother smiling at this point. Xiumin continued making them ice cubes as they walked. It wasn't the most hydrating, but it was better than the alternative.

       When they finally found the room, it was like discovering Atlantis. It wasn't that there was anything particularly comforting about it, but it meant the end of their trek through this decrepit nightmare of epic proportions, a chance to finally finish this. 2 days was the longest they'd spent on any trial, and it was fantastic to be out of it.

       When they arrived, it looked to be just a gigantic room, bigger than the vat room, with barely anything in it. The black tiled floor stretched for what could have been a half a mile, with a raised platform and stairs descending from it in the center. Walking in, she looked around in awe. There were no pathways, doors, anything besides the structure and the floor beneath her. Venturing out into the room, the other boys looked around as well, but didn't seem to draw attention to anything unusual.

       Out of nowhere, the floor dropped from around them, almost like a shitty video game graphic. Tiles sank into a deep black pit, down which none of them could see anything. It left them separated, spread lightly around the room. They were close enough that they could hear each other, but not so they could jump to each others... what seemed to be pillars of sorts? She looked back to the door, searching for any way out of this, uncertain of checking her phone.

       "Boo!" A voice said suddenly from behind them, causing them all to spin. Standing above them on a platform, attacked to stairs and a runway, was a hooded figure. He was backlit by the room, and his robes hung around him in droves. "It's so nice to finally meet you!" He said like a young fan, obviously cheery. He lifted his hands, slender fingers peeking out from under the sleeves, to remove his hood, pulling the crease of the robe behind him so his legs were more free.

       He wasn't anyone that Y/N could ever recall seeing before. He was surprisingly young, and of similar height to Baekhyun, although clearly younger. His hair was dark and fell in soft waves over his face, nearly concealing the strange glint in his eyes. His jawline was strong, but subtle enough as it curved his face, smooth skin stretching over the expanse of the portion of his body that was revealed. Although he was technically still wearing the robe, with the hood pulled down and the folds pushed back behind him, she saw that he was dressed fairly casually in actuality, maybe even more stylishly than average.

       "Who are you?" Kris growled, confirming her suspicions that this was not someone familiar to them.

       "It's none of your business." The man said with a shrug, nonchalantly walking down the stairs from his own platform onto the runway that ran through all of theirs. "I've had such a fantastic time watching you." His lips plumping into a pout, he said, "I was hoping that last little trial would have taken more of you out. It seems like I'm going to have to settle for Xiumin."

       "Xiumin?" Baekhyun demanded, still defensive, "What's wrong with him?"

       "Oh, nothing technically. It won't be much longer now, though." The man laughed. Xiumin had seemed weaker, but they'd thought nothing of it... Thinking back to Lay, though, that was naive. Was it a similar situation? Was he sick? Seeing the glance of confusion on her face, the man held out his arms as if offering them a generous gift. "What? If you're that clueless, I suppose I'll explain. Unless...?" He asked, looking to the man in question, as if offering for him to explain on his own. He simply looked to the ground.

       "Alright, then! You see, Xiumin's power relies on drawing water from his environment to crystallize into ice. Of course, in light of this, I had to make absolutely certain there was none of that to be had. Of course, I didn't plan on giving you water once you got in here anyway, so it wasn't too difficult. That left him with only a few options once you idiots started demanding it from him. Take it from the air, which- I'm not even certain the random hydrogens and oxygens would have been enough, and even if they were, he could risk suffocating everyone in the process. He could take it from you, which would have defeated the purpose, or..." She looked to him as she realized, the man finishing her thought.

       "He can get it from himself."

       "Xiumin," she muttered, looking at his frame. With the context available, she began seeing gate specific indications. His cheeks were no longer soft and rounded as they had been, but now sinking just slightly into his face. His lips were cracked and he seemed tired.

       "Honestly, I'm surprised he's managed to hang on for this long," The man said with a congratulatory tone. "The same really goes for all of you. You're actually my first test run of this little game! I was a bit worried when you came in with such a diverse set of powers. I had to plan the challenges very meticulously. I was mostly worried about Tao and Lay, but they honestly dealt with themselves! It was hilarious to-"

       "Shut up! You don't get to talk about them like that." Kris seethed, glaring daggers into the man's body. He couldn't do anything, though.

       "I 'get' to talk about you however I want." He stuck a tongue out childishly. "It's my game, after all. And I'm being generous! Is this so much to ask for one little wish? A wish for anything you could truly ever want?"

       "Yes." He spat. "It is." Shrugging, the man posed,

       "And yet you're still here. Which brings me to your last trials." He spun on his heel, gesturing outwards. "Welcome to the final room! Designed it myself. Technically, you have ten trials left to complete, nine when your pipsqueak over there kicks the bucket.  Of course, I've realized that I've had to make this incredibly difficult for you all thus far, and as I said, you're a test run, so I'm willing to tweak the rules. So! I'll make you an offer." As he said this, a watch that she only just noticed he had on his wrist beeped quietly.

       "Oh! Speak of the devil, fatality skip!" Pressing something, she felt her phone buzz, and sure enough, there was the notification.

       Fatality skip: Trial 91

       "Xiumin!" She shouted, looking over to him desperately. He was laying down on his own platform, not moving at all.

       "That won't help you now, sweetheart." He said, walking on air over to Xiumin's platform. Was that his ability? Did he have more than one? He was outside of her realm of understanding to say the least. She watched helplessly as he removed the man's body from the platform by pushing it with his shoe, as if relocating a dead rat on the driveway. He did so with the same disgusted flick of his heel, turning away as his corpse fell into the abyss.

       "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She asked with tears now coursing down her face.

       "Wrong? I'm doing you a favor, don't you forget!" He said looking at her like a consumer upset with their product. "Which brings me to my, as I said, generous offer. I'd like to just give you your prize now, but that's no fun, and I'm curious." Grinning ear to ear, he asked, "Just how good of friends are you, really?"

       "What's that supposed to mean?" Kris growled.

       "Ah, ah, calm down, I was getting there." Sitting down cross-legged on the runway, he held up a hand. "You," he pointed to Kris, "And you." He pointed to Baekhyun. "First one to fall off of the platform dies, obviously. Once one of you goes, I'll reward the wish. Or, we can all sit here and wait to see which one of you starves to death first."

       "Why not me?" Y/N asked, looking at him helplessly. "Let me do it!" Pouting again, he shook his head.

       "That's no good. You're player one! The crown jewel! The wish maker! I can't have you dying on me, yeah?" Waving his arm, he dismissed her, "You just sit tight. I want to see who's going to push who in." Kris and Baekhyun locked eyes. Their platforms connected via tiled bridges, similar in material as to the floor when they'd first entered. They both walked down their pathways to meet in the center at a common pillar. The man in the robe watched intently as they looked to each other. Kris clearly had the advantage in height and weight class, but Baekhyun may be able to get an edge with agility and size. It was anyone's guess.

       "I'll go." Kris said with a sigh.

       "No! You can't do that!"

       "Baek, I'm hurt. If he were to do anything else, I wouldn't be of any use to you."

       "You can't die, Kris! We've made it this far, maybe we can-"

       "You know we can't do anything to this maniac!" Kris shoved him lightly in insistence. "I want nothing more than to crush his stupid fucking skull, I know. But you've seen what he can do, and he's clearly deranged. We'll never win, especially not on his terms and in this state."

       "But..."

       "You think I want to die?" Kris laughed, shaking. "I've been trying to keep this from happening the whole damn time. Hell, I almost died getting here. So did you."

       "Let me go. You'll take better care of Y/N. You're betraying he by leaving, and everyone who..." he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

       "I just told you, I'm doing it, no questions." Kris shifted his weight off his bad leg. "It'll be okay, man, I promise." Puling Baekhyun into a hug, something she'd rarely ever seen him do in their entire time of knowing each other, he said, "Now get our wish and bring everyone back, okay?" Baekhyun nodded as tears fell down his face, causing his eyes to grow red. "Hey, don't cry on me. You'e always been such a baby." Lightly punching him in the arm as he sniffled, Baekhyun argued,

       "You're literally crying, I don't wanna hear it." Kris pulled away from him, looking to Y/N and giving her a nod.

       "Don't let this piece of shit win, okay?" He asked. She didn't know what to do, watching in awe as she gave a slight nod.

       "Wait." Baekhyun said after he turned, holding out something. Looking down, Kris saw that it was the little stuffed animal he had taken as his item. They'd never needed it, but... somehow, in this moment, he was glad to have it.

       "Thank you." He laughed looking at it and putting it in his pocket. Then, limping to the edge in only a couple steps on his bad leg, he paused. He wanted to turn around, to say goodbye again, but it wasn't going to get any easier. Taking in a deep breath he looked downwards, to where there was seemingly no end. Then, as he exhaled, he stepped off, not making a sound.

       The man immediately began talking over Baekhyun's quiet crying and her choked noises of dread and incomprehensibility.

       "Ugh, that was so boring, I thought you two were at least going to fight each other. Baekhyun! What if he had pushed you off the edge, hmm? What if it had been a trap?"

       "I wanted to go, anyway." The boy muttered.

       "Ah, whatever, a deal's a deal, I guess. I don't like breaking the rules." The man shrugged. "Anyway, I gave you your wish, you can go. Bye!"

Go to Chapter 43

[hithelleth]

Rules: tell me one book from your childhood that you still love now, one book that is on your reading list, and the book that you’ve read most recently.

I was tagged by @jadedbirch - thank you, I do like to talk about books! <3

1.  Hmmm, see, while I read some classic English authors for children, like Enid Blyton, I read those, loved them, and left them in the past. 

But my favourite childhood book (which actually wasn’t meant for children, but while I was mostly raised by my very strict Catholic grandma she never forced me to read or not to read anything) was a Slovene one which I first read for sure at least 5 years before an ‘appropriate’ age while vacationing with my other grandma and my older cousin had his mandatory school reading lying around. ;) 

I loved it then, loved it when I had to reread it for school myself, loved it when I reread it again years later for fun, and it had actually been a lot on my mind lately in terms of wanting to reread it yet again, except I don’t have a copy at home, so I need to make my way to a library or actually I have a mind to just buy it, because it’s a masterpiece of Slovene literature and I would like to own it. 

It’s called Bobri (Beavers) and it’s a novel in three parts about the prehistoric people who lived on the wooden structures build on the lake (hence the title, for the symbiotic cohabitation with beavers) in the area of the present Ljubljana (and hence especially dear to me) at the end of Stone/beginning of Copper age. Written by a priest - but, wait, there’s a twist: he imagined their culture as polygamous/poly-amorous and wrote it filled with drama, romance, intrigue, some murder, lots of adventure and discovery of a new age, and is all in all an epic story. 

Unfortunately it hasn’t been translated into English because we suck at promoting our own culture (and also, let’s be honest, until most recently (and even now), most of the English speaking world didn’t even know/care that we exist (although we’ve been here for roughly 1500 years.))

2. Haha, one book? You know how long my reading list is? This long: 

That said, I am looking forward to Deal with the Devil, the first book in Kit Rocha’s new Mercenary Librarians series, set in the same world as their Beyond and Gideon’s Riders series but not a spin-off. 

Might be interesting for a fellow Reveller, too, because the world is basically what Revo-world could be, just with a different cause, 100x better written, with canon orgy armada (or as one the authors themselves define it, bisexual love army dismantling tyranny), and with plenty of canon smut. ;)

Both the book and series title and blurbs sound delightfully, so I hope if not sooner at least this one will break my book-reading slump. 

3. Speaking of, I’ve started at least 10 books in almost two months and couldn’t get past the first few chapters - I think everything from corona on caught up with me and my brain decided it can’t cope with new things and flung under the comforting blanket of rereading Revo fics (and discovering some hidden gems I managed to miss before, you know ;)). 

So, it’s been a while, at the end of April, when last read an ‘original’ book, it was Your Dad Will Do by Katee Robert. The is novella of 95% pure smut - a woman catches her fiance cheating on her so she decides to get back at him, and you can guess how, lol, but it was delightful (and hilarious.) 

Incidentally, I learned of it only because twitter threw it at me because I follow Kit Rocha and the authors are pals and Katee Robert apparently wrote in a week in a fit of pandemic-induced writing craze - and it is excellently written both language and concept/plot/characterisation-wise (yes, you can stuff all of that into the smut, but it takes skill, and this author definitely has it - I put some more of her books on my reading list (see, I have a problem), needless to say) for such speed (there are a few typos, but nothing worse.)

Tagging people who read (or probably read) : @lglorien​, @eveningspirit​, @totallyshelfaware, @ofwoodsandwaves, @stargazerdaisy​, @vesperass-anuna​, @blue-charlotte​, @wellwhataboutme​, @street-of-mercy​ and whoever else wants to do it. As always, feel free to ignore. :)

[thebestofallworlds]

You’re Going to Have to Try Harder Than That

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Fred Weasley is going to have to try a little harder to get you to go to the Yule Ball with him.

The excitement in the air was evident at Hogwarts when the first sight of snow was seen. What that meant for the boys and girls alike was that there was now a stress to find a date to the famous Yule Ball, which would occur on Christmas Eve night. You watched with a smirk as every Hogwarts boy would follow around the Beauxbatons girls in the hopes that they would be able to ask one of them to the ball. You have to admit, everything about them is perfect, and it does get a bit discouraging when almost every boy from year 4 up follows them around and doesn’t really bother about their own class mates.

You go back to reading your book, occasionally looking up to watch as another group of boys follow the French girls or the group of girls trying to get close to Viktor Krum. That just made you smile even more, because you were the only one who knew that he had asked your best friend Hermione, and she had said yes. You were too consumed in your book to realise your best friends Ron, Harry and Hermione had taken seats next to you.

“Look at ‘em all Harry, how are they just so perfect?” Ron exclaimed to the group, mainly pointed at Harry but you assume he wanted all of your attention.

“Yes Ronald, we get it, they’re French, they’re perfect, their hair just flows so lovely over their shoulder. If you love them so much, why don’t you just ask one of them to the ball?” you retorted back, earning a chuckle from both Hermione and Harry, whilst Ron just slouched down against the wall mumbling something about how he was planning to or something. You just roll your eyes, closing your book and look up to continue observing the court yard and watching everyone go about their day.

“So Y/N, has anyone asked you to the ball? Or at least caught your eye?” Hermione asks, after giving a small wave to Krum that goes unnoticed to you.

“No, all the boys just seem to be chasing after the French to really give a bother to me. But I’m not too fussed, we’ve still got a while until the Ball comes around,” you say uncaringly. But deep down you did care. You were a little worried that no one was going to ask you. Hermione got a date but she’s absolutely stunning. And you just kept thinking, if Harry Potter, the boy who lived and a Triwizard champion, can’t get a date, what hope did you have.

The time has come for the Gryffindor House to be taught how to dance, more importantly waltz. You and Hermione couldn’t help but giggle when Professor McGonagall pulled Ron out of his seat and forced him to be her partner. You watched as his twin older brothers danced along to the music and then had a chat with Harry. To be fair, the whole situation was hilarious, but that’s what he gets, you knew he was talking shit about one of your classmates and McGonagall being McGonagall just knew and sought to embarrass him.

You jumped to your feet when it was time to partner up, and was a little pissed off when all of the boys slumped down in their seats, trying to hide their faces. You were extremely proud of Neville being one of the only boys willing to learn how to dance so you made sure to be his partner during the practice because you were willing to help him out with all of the dancing practice and coordination.

You were giggling the entire time as Neville tries to spin you around and you feel someone’s eyes watching you from a far. You look around and see Fred Weasley (yes you could tell them apart, you don’t spend Summers with the Weasleys and not learn which twin is which) watching you with a tiny smirk on his face as he himself tries to learn how to Waltz.

The whole dancing lesson with McGonagall was just one big laugh. The whole auditorium was filled with laughter and talking as the girls and boys tried their hardest to find some sort of rhythm, and don’t even get you started in the lifts. Poor Neville had two left feet at the beginning of the lesson so doing the lift was bound to get one or both of you hurt. But by the end he had managed to get the simple steps down and vouched to you that he was going to get the dance down pat to impress his date to the Ball, who he wouldn’t tell you who it was.

By the time the dance lesson was done, you and your friends were starving. So you all made your way to the Great Hall for lunch all the while making fun of Ron for having to dance with your Head of House. Once sitting down you are all laughing at Ron’s embarrassment. As you begin grabbing food to eat for your lunch you once again feel eyes on you. Looking further down the long table you again saw Fred Weasley looking your way, only this time he winks at you. You feel your cheeks begin to burn up as you look down and continue to eat your lunch, a faint smile creeping onto your face and you tune in to the conversation your friends were having.

You were all busy studying in the Great Hall for potions and you were listening to Ron and Harry begin to worry about not having dates.

“This is mad. At this rate we'll be the only ones in our year without dates. Well us and Neville!” Ron chuckled to Harry as you just shake your head at the two teenage boys talking next to you. Before you know it Snape is right behind the two boys and continues to hit them in the back of the head for talking. You silently giggle at the two of them getting in trouble, it never gets old.

“But then again he can take himself.” Harry replies to Ron once Snape leaves to check on other students. You just roll your eyes, why do they have to pick on poor Neville.

“It might interest you to know that Neville's already got someone,” Hermione snaps at the two boys and all three of you gasp and look at her wide-eyed for more information but she puts her head back down doing her work. You just huff and also go back to doing your work, wanting to get through it quickly so you can leave and go back to the Gryffindor common room to relax.

That is until you see a paper ball fly towards Ron from his older brother Fred, with a silently giggling George next to him. You lean over Harry’s shoulder, being mindful of Snape keeping a close eye on us, and try to catch a glimpse of what it said. 

"GET A MOVE ON OR ALL THE GOOD ONES WILL HAVE GONE!".

“Who are you taking then?” Ron asks Fred accusingly, but you’re already bored of the conversation so your try to get stuck back into your work with hopefully no to minimal distractions. That is until a paper ball hits your head. Your lift your head to hearing your name being whispered.

“Y/N, hey Y/N” you look up to see Fred trying to get your attention.

“What?” you ask, slightly irritated at the constant distractions.

“Do you...want to go...to the ball...with me?” He says slowly, adding in some movements here and there to get his point across.

“Oh Weasley. You’re going to have to try harder than that,” and with that you get up to leave, but not after giving Snape your work, leaving not only a dumb-stuck Fred, but also your three best friends being left speechless.

It’s not that you didn’t want to go to the ball with Fred, because you really did, you had always had a small crush on him. But you were his brother’s best friend so you never thought you had the chance. But another reason was that you had always hoped that when you were asked it was really special, not just some whispered question in the middle of a study period

Over the next week, you were getting flowers and chocolates when you woke up outside of your dorm room, as well as balloons in every class and chocolate covered strawberries showing up at every meal. You knew they were from Fred, but until he asked you again properly you were going to enjoy all the gifts and share hem with Hermione and the boys.

By the end of the week you thought that he wasn’t going to end up asking you because he had been hanging around Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell a lot so you figured that he had given up on you. This did make you quite upset and you were second guessing your response to his first question. Now you were going to the Ball without a date, or maybe you just wouldn’t go to the ball, save you the embarrassment of going alone.

With that thought in your head to slowly walked to the Great Hall for dinner on a normal Friday night. You were passed by many student, Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang a like, trying to hurry to get good seats around the long tables so they could stuff their faces with whatever the House Elves prepared for them. Coming closer to the Great Hall you were shocked to find that there was barely any noise from the hall. Curiosity filled you as you turned the corner to walk through the doors to the room.

What stopped you in your tracks was Fred Weasley in the middle of the Hall holding a bouquet of red roses and chocolates, above him you see Lee Jordan and George Weasley on broomsticks holding an enchanted banner that read:

You were in absolute awe. You look to the Gryffindor table to see your best friends smiling at you, although you think Ron was just doing so to be nice because he was secretly jealous that you got a date to the ball and him and Harry still didn’t have one, but you didn’t care. You slowly make your way up to Fred, not breaking eye contact until you were right in front of him, only then did you look up at the banner again and give out a quiet giggle. 

“Is this hard enough for you?” he questioned, wringing his hands nervously waited for you to answer. This was the first time that you had ever seen Fred Weasley, of all people, nervous. You just smile and begin to nod your head.

“Yes, Fred. This is amazing. And yes, I’ll go to the ball with you,” you laugh out your response as he gives a random Hufflepuff the roses and chocolate and hugs you picking you up and spinning you around.

“Mr Weasley, please put Miss L/N down before you make her sick,” you hear McGonagall exclaim but you both just laugh loudly as he put you down and gives you your gifts. You were so grateful that he didn’t give up on asking you and as you sat down next to Hermione on one side and Fred on the other smelling your roses you couldn’t help but begin to feel extremely excited for the ball, thinking of what your dress would look like and wonderful your night would be.

The night of the Yule Ball had come and it had been a dream come true. Your mum had sent you a beautiful blue gown and your hair was done perfectly, thanks to the help of Hermione. Fred had actual tried to learn how to dance so you both managed to keep a rhythm during the opening dance, and both of you laughed as you watched Harry fail to dance with Parvati. Towards the end of the night Fred whisks you away and you both stroll your way towards the Astronomy Tower. 

The night sky was absolutely breath taking as the stars shined brightly down onto the grounds of Hogwarts. Fred takes your hands, pulling you away from the beautiful sights in front of you and made you look at him. He tentatively moves his hand towards your face and tucks a stray bit of hair behind your ear.

“Y/N, tonight has been amazing. And I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now. I think you are absolutely stunning, and smart and funny, and you seem to make me smile whenever I look at you. What I’m trying to say is will you be my girlfriend?” Fred nervously questioned, looking at you with a somewhat scared look on his face, scared of what you were about to say.

“Oh Fred, you’re going to have to try harder than that,” you seriously state, looking dead in his eyes as he looks as though he’s about to crumble into the earth.

“I’m totally kidding, yes I will be your girlfriend!” You laughed as you watched his eyes light up with happiness. He rests his hand of your cheek and looks into your eyes, silently asking for permission. With the slight nod of your head he slowly leans in and presses his lips softly to yours. The fireworks you felt from the touch of his lips, the butterflies in your stomach and the tingles from where his hands were on your cheek and waist were so intense that you just melted into him.

It was the perfect ending to the perfect night.

[whetstonefires]

I have wandered into your tumblr and I want to know absolutely everything about your ideas for Earth 3 Impetus and Motion. EVERYTHING. Possibly the least relevant part of that is the family line, as Earth 3 often has really skewed versions of the characters. Would the first Johnny Quick even have a speedster grandson when he was killed and his blood used to power his successors?

Oh, cool ask! Thank you!

😄 I’m very happy to talk about this but I’m afraid you may be disappointed, because I’m Doing It Wrong. I’ve been working off and on on a bespoke Earth-3 for the past…several years. Production has slowed but not stopped. It’s up to over 300,000 words on AO3 at this point.

The issue that set me off was that tendency to skew; I didn’t like it. I found that, most of the times DC had built into Earth-3 before rebooting again, there were two countervailing currents leading writing decisions. On the one hand to make things As Wrong As Possible compared to the main timeline, and on the other to just make them…arbitrarily different.

Lois Lane is Superwoman, evil counterpart of Wonder Woman, for some reason, woop-de-do; this fits under both categories.

This process worked neither according to the ‘timeline that diverged into a Bad Timeline at some point in the distant past but somehow contains versions of the same people in the same place’ premise of the original Star Trek ‘Mirror, Mirror’ episode, nor does it work according to any direct cosmic principle of inversion, although some of the early versions claimed to.

(See: Mirror Christopher Columbus discovered Europe and then later Evil George Washington conquered England for the American Empire, what even guys. 😩)

Also Earth-3 so transparently existed almost every time it was reinvented as a place to get villains from, and to look bad in comparison to the main timeline, without any attention to making it work internally, which I thought was a damn waste of a cool concept. ‘A damn waste of a cool concept’ drives a lot of fanwork lol.

So for my world, I had the slightly conflicting goals of working as close to that amorphous thing ‘canon’ as possible, and of making the setting stand on its own, as a superhero setting, with internal causality and more or less the usual sort of hero-versus-villain logic. So I inverted the alignments of only superheroes and supervillains, and kept as much as possible of their backstories intact.

This means my stuff doesn’t map onto any canon Earth-3, especially not the one from Forever Evil because that came out after I’d already gotten all the big things pinned down. 😅 Some people get upset about this and come yell at me about how i.e. Owlman is Thomas Wayne Junior. But since I always saw that particular concept as a huge cop-out from looking at how few alterations it takes to turn Bruce Wayne into a spectacular villain, I was like ‘nuts to that’ from the start.

If you’re cool with my relationship with canon, on we go.

-&-

So, Impetus and Motion! I don’t remember what I said on that one post where I remember blathering about it, so forgive me if I repeat myself. ^^

Lineage is the same as canon, technically. I’ll go over it; if you don’t care just skip ahead to the next subsection. 😄

Mirror Barry Allen, the Dash, got his villain name for his signature kill technique of grabbing someone, hyperaccelerating them, and then letting go at the right moment that they get dashed against something immovable and go splat. He dashes people against things.

(His eventual sidekick, Blaze, got his for liking to make things combust by accelerating their molecules. The combination makes them sound like a pair of racehorses, which they did not intend and are very annoyed by when it’s pointed out.)

The Dash is pretty scary, especially because most of the ways he abuses his speed for profit are so low-key nobody even notices (i.e. screwing with the stock market) and he doesn’t need to be a supervillain. He just likes it.

His public villain profile is relatively low for the level of danger he poses, tho, because his town is infested with really dumb superheroes who beat him embarrassingly often, when he actually turns up to fight or is successfully ambushed. And with the occasional exception the scale of his crimes is fairly small compared to i.e. Ultraman.

Keeping him imprisoned is ridiculously difficult, tho. He can’t be completely depowered (because the Speed Force is external to him and all the power dampeners that are used assume they’re trying to shut off something generated internally) and he’s really smart, so it took years of battles to keep him long enough to transfer into a proper cell even, and longer to get an unblurred look at his face.

His secret identity survived so long that Barry Allen was there to comfort Iris West after she was targeted by the Dash on several occasions, and they were married by the time he got ultimately unmasked.

She left him after that and moved back to the future, which she was still from because that’s hilarious, but he eventually tracked her down and promised to reform if she’d take him back. This obviously fell apart eventually, but not until after the twins were born.

I haven’t mapped out the mirror Thawne line. I assume the Thawnes with healing powers who inadvertently adopted Barry’s twin were much nicer in this timeline but idk if he ever became Cobalt Blue or what. I hope he lived to old age. Apparently there have been multiple Cobalts Blue? Idk idc, Flash continuity what even are you.

Everyone thought Eobard Thawne was nuts, but he actually did go back in time and stop the Dash from destroying the world with nukes in a fit of rage, his historical analysis, method of giving himself speed powers, and time machine were all successful. He may additionally suffer from some degree of psychosis, but he wasn’t wrong. (His little brother still exists in this universe because good!Eobard wasn’t the type to manipulate time to erase inconvenient family members. He also doesn’t have the title Professor because he never got tenure, so he just goes by Zoom.)

-&-

Bart is still Don and Meloni’s kid. Frankly I don’t understand those two in the normal timeline, so it’s hard to construct their mirror versions in any depth or even decide whether they should get mirrored. (Probably not tbh.) But I don’t exactly need to, because the resulting Bart is very much the same and thus doesn’t really know them. He was still born with his weird speed glitch that caused him to be raised in a simulation, and eventually time-traveled to un-glitch him.

The difference is that he’s not a nice kid. He’s a two year old who looks twelve and has received all his socialization from reasonably good AI in a world that was not real. Where nothing had consequences. Where nobody was real.

He’s very frightening, is Impetus. Impetuous, wildly powerful, selfish–oddly sweet, occasionally, in the ‘gay and innocent and heartless’ way of Peter Pan, but probably even more likely than Peter to knife someone. He’s so delighted the first time he eats actual ice cream, as opposed to a simulated version, but the ice cream stand is now on fire.

Mirror Bart isn’t so much cruel or even un-empathetic as solipsistic. He’s arrested in the state of an intellectually advanced toddler playing, what’s that game called, the one where the objective seems to be getting in car chases a lot? When was the last time they made a new one, I feel like I haven’t heard it mentioned in ages, it’s a dead franchise isn’t it I’m old. Grand Theft Auto! That’s it. He doesn’t just not understand that danger is real, the way Impulse started out. People aren’t.

Impetus is easily bored and surrounded by NPCs. It gets ugly, sometimes.

He also time-travels a lot more frequently than normal Bart, because he doesn’t really get attached so he doesn’t try to maintain a normal life of any kind, so he pops up all over the timestream.

Jason Blood hated him personally long before Bart had any idea who he was; they have a villain rivalry plagued by causality issues and closed time loops that is alternately epic and stupid as fuck.

And then there’s Thad. Thad’s had a less awful time than he did in canon, I think–President Thawne is not technically a supervillain so he’s probably about the same as in the original timeline, but even assuming Meloni and Don are still out of the picture (probably it’s Barry’s fault in this dimension?) raising a kid as a ‘defense mechanism against a supervillain’ calls for less extreme brainwashing fuckery than raising one to hunt down a superhero.

So he probably behaved a bit more like a reasonable grandparent, simply because the context incentivized him to emphasize concepts like duty and loyalty more, and hatred less. He might even have been able to go public with Thad’s existence, depending on the spin he came up with. Among other factors.

But it was still a depressing, isolated, dehumanizing way to grow up, and it went on a long time, because as per canon Thad has the opposite problem from Bart in terms of how he passes through time. Motion is a 40-year-old man with a 12 year old’s body and approximate life experience.

Thad was already So Tired when he finally got out into the world on his own, and once he encountered Impetus he learned pretty quickly to both pity and fear him.

Even when Thad tries to avoid Bart and just have a life, Bart always crashes back into his existence again, and in the meantime he feels guilty. Because even if he could completely shake off having been raised to see countering Impetus as his whole reason for existence, he’d still feel a lot of personal responsibility to try, because he has the ability to stand up to him in a way almost no one else does, and he knows Bart’s out there resulting in casualties.

Due to all the time travel involved, even having just defeated Impetus doesn’t mean he’s not still out there at an accessible point in the timestream, needing to be stopped.

Impetus results in Motion the way Inertia resists Impulse. They’re very much locked into an action-and-reaction framework that does not even a little bit help with Thad’s clone identity issues.

Except for how the amount of time Thad spends saving people from Bart has slowly created a fairly large body of people over the course of history who know them as distinct entities, and like Thad a lot better. 

Good feels good. ^^ It’s not necessarily the case that this happens, obviously, but with their alignment swap they also ultimately exchanged who’s defined by isolation. It takes Bart a long, long time to even understand that he’s lonely.