#and Hazel was supposed to be introduced a little later on. added them into a scene and it just made sense to have them in the story sooner!

[buckysgrace]

2. Eyes Without a Face

Billy Hargrove x Fem!OC/Tommy Hagan x Fem!OC

Now That We Don't Talk

Three Years Later

Tommy

He viewed Kim differently now. 

He still loved her in the same manner, perhaps even more in his opinion. Being married and having a child together had really changed his point of view. He wasn’t ever sure if he’d really be happy getting married. His eyes had a bad habit of wandering, of thinking that there could be more out there for him. 

Kim hadn’t given him an option to think about anyone else after their honeymoon. She had gotten pregnant right away, surprising him completely. They had always been safe. He didn’t see how it was possible, but he had been happy nonetheless. A baby was special. 

Sex was new between them, on the rare occasion that they had it. He used to be rough; enjoyed pulling her hair and smacking her skin. He no longer liked to do that. He supposed it was fairly plain, vanilla for sure. He just didn’t feel right being so brutal with the mother of his child. 

Nora was anything but a handful. With rosy cheeks, golden red hair and big blue eyes; a looker, just like her mother. She acted like Kim too. Always getting into things, eyes full of curiosity and a nose that was able to sniff out sweets for miles. Other than that, she didn’t do anything too chaotic. A little angel. 

He had made a deal with Kim, well, rather he had pleaded with her to take his suggestion. He worked and she stayed at home with Nora. It was easier that way. Kim was motherly, had no issue changing diapers and wiping runny noses. Tommy didn’t like any of it. Not the messy part. He could play with Nora for hours but once she got fussy or overheated, she went straight back to Kim. 

“Hi,” Kim waved from the kitchen, her hair pulled back into a ponytail as she held Nora against her left side. She stirred something in her right hand, nodding her head as Nora babbled off while she finished off a creamsicle, “How was work?”

“Good,” He replied, quickly kissing the side of her cheek and narrowly avoiding Nora’s sticky hands, “Uh, we’re going to have one more over for dinner.” He added, smiling as he tapped the top of Nora’s head.

“Oh?” She asked as she looked up, hazel eyes inquisitive as Nora mirrored her expression. Tommy still thought it was funny that Nora had ended up with blue eyes, instead of brown like theirs, “Who is it? It’s not Jason, is it? That guy is a creep.” She reminded him of her disdain, making him sigh deeply. 

“He’s not a creep,” Tommy defended him quickly, knowing he just got a bad reputation, “But no. It’s not Jason. It’s uh, someone you like.” He replied, hoping that was still the case. Kim stopped for a second, analyzing him for a long time. 

“Is there a reason you’re being secretive about it?” She questioned him sourly, nose scrunching up like she was scared about what his answer would be. He honestly wasn’t too sure about how she’d react. Neither of them had seen Billy in so long. 

“It’s your brother,” He introduced slowly as he pulled a smile on his face, “Yay! Uncle Billy is coming to town!” He cheered, clapping his hands as Nora began to bounce and giggle in Kim’s arms. Kim, on the other hand, looked less than pleased.

“What do you mean he’s coming to town?” She bore a pained expression as she pushed her pan of food off of the burner, quickly shutting the heat off before she placed Nora on the ground. The toddle whined, gripping a hold of her jeans with sticky fingers. 

“Well,” Tommy paused, “I guess he lost his job, had a little relapse incident, and then his girlfriend kicked him out. Ex girlfriend I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck, deciding that he was going to keep a few more details out. He had a feeling she’d say no if she knew the full story.

But she already looked like she didn’t like his answer. She played with her hair, a little telltale sign that she was nervous. But he also knew that it likely meant that she’d give in anyways. She still didn’t like to say no, even if it made her uncomfortable. 

He knew that there was some well deserved hesitancy there. The last time either of them had seen Billy had been at the wedding. He had skipped the exchanging of the vows, but then showed up to the reception more drunk than Tommy had ever seen him. He had made a fool of himself. 

“You couldn’t ask me first?” She asked, dampening a paper towel before she began to scrub Nora’s face and hands clean. He watched, glad that he had stayed out of the toddler’s sticky path. 

“Oh come on, he’s your brother,” He said quickly, “And he’s all alone in Los Angeles. No wonder he has all the drug issues.” He gestured about with his hands, a little jealous that Billy had such wild stories to share. Tommy felt like he hadn’t really gotten to experience anything with getting married so young. And having a baby straight away. 

“He hates it here.” She mumbled, keeping her eyes focused on Nora as she continued to try and talk at the same time Tommy was. 

“That could change,” He shrugged his shoulders, “What happened between you two anyways?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to recall the last time they’d spoken. In fairness, he hadn’t spoken to Billy in years either. But he and Kim had been raised together. 

“What?” She snapped her head towards him, eyes wide with worry. He shrugged his shoulders, not sure why she seemed so on edge. 

“I mean you guys don’t talk anymore,” He said slowly, “Surely something had to happen.” He pried a little deeper, wondering if there was something she was keeping from him. Surely not. 

“We just never got along, different interests,” She brushed his inquiries away as she began to make Nora’s plate with one hand, “And he’s not my brother.” She replied stiffly, smiling as Nora patted her shoulder in confusion. 

“No Uncle Biwwy?” Nora asked, eyes filled with sadness as she rested her wet cheek against Kim’s chest. Tommy winced, wondering how Kim could stand the mess. 

“Yeah,” He added as he rested his chin on his fingers and pouted his lips out, “No Uncle Biwwy? Because I promised him the spare room until he got on his feet. He should be here anytime. I uh, need to figure something out if he can’t stay here.” He replied awkwardly, balancing on the tips of his toes in hopes of changing her mind. 

“I didn’t say he couldn’t,” She sighed as she shifted Nora once again, pausing as she brought a damp towel up and began to wipe her face clean, “I wish you would’ve just asked. You never ask.” She reminded him, making him wish he could roll his eyes. He didn’t like how that was always the argument. He asked when he needed to. For important things. Most of the time. 

“I’m asking now.” He replied as he stood up a little straighter, feeling like he didn’t have to ask to have someone stay in his own home. The one that he had bought and was still paying for. 

“You’re telling me,” She clarified with a soft smile, “I’m not his maid though. He’s going to have to pick up after himself.” She nodded her head along, looking like she was determined to keep some ground rules for herself. 

“Cool,” Tommy replied as he nodded along, “Uh is it done, hun? Because I’m starving.” He glanced into the pot, desperately wanting something to eat. 

“Go ahead,” She responded as she walked away, holding Nora in one hand and her food in the other. He did as she requested, filling his plate full as she ensured that Nora’s tray wasn’t too hot. She always sat with Nora as she ate first, then made her own plate after, “I need to get the guest room ready, can you watch her?”

“Yeah, she’s my daughter.” He snorted, sometimes irritated with the way she thought he couldn’t handle things. He was perfectly capable of watching her eat.

“Tommy,” She said in exasperation, “I just need you to make sure she doesn’t choke on anything.” She replied, pushing her hair out of her face as Nora placed her spoon into her mouth.

“She’s going to be four, she should know what she’s doing. Right, Nora?” He tilted his head, smiling down at the little redhead.

“Wight.” She giggled as she nodded her head, smiling brightly up towards Kim. She sighed in agreement but didn’t look so reassured.

“I was just teasing,” He said as he noticed Kim staying near Nora, “I’ll watch her. Go clean up the room.” He felt a little bad, knowing that they didn’t always understand each other anymore. He didn’t think either of them were getting what they really wanted; but he supposed that was just marriage.

“It can wait,” She said, smiling and pretending to take a bite as Nora offered her a handful, “She’ll need a bath anyways.” 

He took his own shower while Kim used the other bathroom to bathe Nora, then prepare the guest room. Even though Tommy thought it was clean enough, she had her list already planned out. But it was the room where he had been storing most of his spare things.

“Can you watch her?” Kim asked as she peeked down into the living room, Nora hot on her trail. She clung to her everywhere she went.

“Uh, why?” He asked as he glanced towards the ball game, his beer already opened and ready for him. He wasn’t the least bit ashamed to admit that the quick view of the cheerleaders had done something to him.

“Because I still need to shower,” She responded in exasperation, “And she likes to try and play with the power outlets now.” She touched the top of Nora’s head gently, making her giggle.

“Sounds like a lesson to be learned, huh?” He mumbled underneath his breath, sure that his father would’ve let him mess around and find out.

“Five minutes,” Kim begged, “Please.” She begged softly, making him sigh and nod in defeat. He didn’t think their toddler was that helpless. She could be alone without burning the house down or harming herself. Especially for five quick minutes.

“You don’t need me to watch you, do you?” He asked her, whispering so Kim couldn’t hear from the bathroom.

“Uh uh.” She shook her head, red curls flying as she bounced back and forth between rocking two different baby dolls in her arms.

“You won’t tell mommy?” He asked her quickly, holding his palms together in a quick plea. She worked on bundling her babies up in a blanket before she answered.

“Suwe!” She giggled, giving her baby doll a little kiss before he was scurrying away. He wouldn’t be that long anyways. He’d been worked up for the past week.

He retreated to his room, shutting the door gently. He knew that he’d be able to hear the water shut off and hear if Nora got into anything from this distance.

He had just managed to shrug his pants off, his briefs around his thighs and his fingers wrapped around his cock when the doorbell sounded. Again. And again. It continually rang until he felt like his mind might explode.

“Can you get that?” He shouted out the door, keeping it closed so no one could see what he was trying to get up to.

“What?” Kim shouted, her voice muffled from the bathroom door.

“The door!” He shouted, “Can you get it?” He shut his eyes tightly, quietly begging for her to rush out and get it. 

“I’m in the shower!” She protested back, making him sigh deeply. He resisted the urge to slam his head against the door, irritated with the timing.

“Shit,” He huffed, tucking himself back inside and adjusting his pants. He gave his hands a quick wash before he was rushing down the stairs, “I hear you!”

The ringing continued as he rushed down the stairs, his eyes widening as he removed the toddler away from the back of the TV stand. That’s all he needed.

“It woud.” Nora commented with her hands over her ears as he placed her back on the couch. Nosey little thing.

“Get used to it,” He chuckled as he kissed the top of her head, “That’s your uncle Billy.” Her eyes widened in fear as she glanced around, her little legs moving quickly up the stairs as she retreated. She was apparently too shy to introduce herself. 

“Jesus Christ,” Billy grinned from ear to ear, “Took you long enough.” He stated, looking a little bored as his eyes fell towards Tommy. He looked a little skinnier, his hair shorter and bags underneath his eyes deep. But he was still Billy. 

“That was very annoying,” He scoffed as he popped the door open, “C’mon in.” He gestured inside at the almost annoyingly clean living room. It must’ve meant that his mother stopped by, that was the only time that it was truly spotless. 

“Holy fuck,” Billy spit out, “You did get a nice place.” He held his duffel bag over his shoulders as he peered around, stopping to briefly glance at the framed photos before he turned away again. 

“Yeah,” He chuckled, “You better put that out. Kim doesn’t want anyone smoking around Nora.” He pointed out, looking at the cigarette that was placed behind his ear. It was half smoked, like he’d been savoring it. 

“And you have a kid,” He laughed, like it was hilarious, “Who would’ve thought?” He shook his head, speaking the truth out loud. Tommy was still surprised each morning. 

“Not me,” He muttered in admittance as he gestured towards the living room, “Welcome in.” He clapped his hands together, unsure of what else to say as he watched Billy slowly glide around. 

He looked around intensely, like he was inspecting each little detail. Tommy could feel himself bouncing in excitement, wanting to know all about how LA was. How the partying was, the girls. Everything. 

“Billy,” Kim replied softly, her face flushed as she tugged on her damp hair as she took slow steps down from the stairs. She looked anywhere but him, following the same nervous tick she did anytime she met someone new, “Good to see you again.”

Tommy’s relationship with his own siblings wasn’t the best, but he didn’t know how he could ever just stop talking to them. Even if Billy and Kim both claimed they weren’t siblings, they were raised together. He just didn’t get it.

“Kim,” Billy nodded at her; features stoic as he looked around, “You guys have a nice place.” He said again, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned away. Apparently he didn’t know how to talk to her either. Or he was expecting a lecture.

“You were supposed to see it a long time ago.” Tommy pointed out, shoving at him playfully. Billy nodded along, shrugging his shoulders softly. 

“I was busy,” He replied with a smirk. Tommy did his best not to sigh, knowing that Billy had done things that he could only dream about. He supposed that was the issue with getting married young and having children at such an age too, “This must be Nova?”

“Nora,” Tommy corrected, smiling at the way she curled up into Kim’s side. She had the same shy nature about her, “This is Uncle Billy, remember?” He squatted down, hoping that she might become more comfortable. 

“Hi.” She said shyly, face half hidden as Billy joined Tommy on the floor. He looked kinder and Tommy suddenly remembered that he had spent a summer or two teaching kids her age how to swim. 

“Do you like dolls?” He asked, tilting his head as a gentle smile pulled onto his lips, “I have one for you. Your dad said you liked Barbies.” He dropped his bag slowly, looking proud at the way Nora perked up. 

“Oh, yeah,” She said with a giggle, suddenly more interested, “I like dem.” She nodded her head happily, squeezing at Kim’s leg for reassurance. 

“Do you want to go get it?” Kim asked her, kissing the top of her head, “We already ate, but I can warm the leftovers up if you want.” She added awkwardly, furrowing her eyebrows together before she crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Uh, sure,” Billy replied with a shrug of his shoulders as he dug through his duffel bag, “Here you go, kid.” He plopped it into Nora’s hands, earning a loud squeal from her as she examined it. 

“Oh cool times Barbie,” Tommy responded, trying to keep a calm expression, “How neat.” He chuckled, wondering how many Barbie’s she’d have before it was too much. 

“What do you say?” Kim asked gently, her lips curled into a soft smile as Nora pulled a bright grin onto her lips. She teetered back and forth before she answered. 

“Tank you,” She grinned in excitement, “Mama, open?” She held it up over her head, looking conflicted as she pulled at the plastic. Tommy stood first, wandering if this would be an appropriate moment to pull out a few beers. 

“Yeah, come to the kitchen with me.” Kim told her, holding a hand out as Nora waddled quickly to keep up. It was a pretty cute sight. Their nightgowns even seemed to match. 

“How are you feeling?” Tommy asked seriously, collapsing on the recliner as Billy followed suit. He stretched his legs out, suddenly looking exhausted. 

“Like shit,” Billy grumbled, “I hate this fucking town.” He replied bitterly, almost angrily as he linked his fingers over his abdomen. Tommy exhaled deeply. Sure he wanted to travel, but Hawkins wasn’t that bad. All of his friends and family were here. 

“Better than living in your car.” He said seriously, sure that it had to be an uncomfortable few weeks. Things must’ve been really bad for him to come crawling back. 

“Barely,” He sighed as he stretched his legs out once again, “So what do you do? I never saw you as a family guy.” Billy cocked an eyebrow curiously, leaving Tommy shrugging. He had been too young to have known what he really wanted. He still felt that way in all honesty. 

“I guess it was just a bullshit gift from fate. Right after the wedding.” He laughed as he thought about how nervous and scared Kim had been. He wasn’t much help through the pregnancy either. It had all freaked him out. He understood how people got cold feet. 

“You’re not happy?” Billy looked for clarity, his eyebrows furrowing together like he was sure he was hearing Tommy wrong. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He said quickly, trying to defend himself, “It’s just mundane sometimes. That’s all.” He shrugged his shoulders, not sure if he should mention that the love between him and Kim was clearly gone. Their passion had long since fizzled out. 

“Lucky.”

“Here,” Kim said slowly as she sat the bowl down on the table for Billy to reach. She sat down near the corner of the couch, smiling as Nora crawled onto her lap. She got comfortable as she held her Barbie to her chest, beginning to brush her hair out slowly, “I hope the drive wasn’t too bad?”

“Nothing terrible,” Billy replied as he glanced towards her, “I guess it is kind of nice to be back, sort of like home.” He mused softly before he turned away, eyes glancing towards him.

“Bullshit.” He laughed, nearly cackling at his terrible lie. There was no way Billy thought of this shitty town as home. He hated it here. 

“There really is nothing good about this place.” Billy replied after a brief pause, grinning as he bounced his knee up and down. Tommy shook his head, still marveled at how Billy could say such a thing.

“Come on,” Kim whispered as she adjusted Nora on her lap, “Say goodnight. Let’s go get ready for bed.” She picked her up quickly, ignoring the little protest Nora let out before she waved her fingers at them.

“Night night!” She squealed, giggling as Tommy leaned up and kissed her warm cheek. At least she wasn’t sticky.

Kim carried her off, promising of a new story tonight as Tommy settled back into his chair. It was the same routine. The same everything. He was bored.

“You’re lucky.” Billy said suddenly, taking him by surprise. He supposed in a way he was, but this hadn’t been the life he had wanted. He felt like he was stuck in a box most days.

“You are,” Tommy corrected, “You got to live and we’re just stuck in whatever this is.” He gestured about, keeping his voice lowered so Kim couldn’t hear. He didn’t want to deal with her crying about it next. Their fights were always like that.

“Hm,” Billy hummed softly, “You sound happy. Does she know you’re this joyful?” He mocked, fingers twitching repeatedly against his abdomen. He was clearly still coming off of something, noticeable by the way he kept locking his jaw and darting his eyes around.

“She doesn’t say anything.” He shrugged his shoulders, speaking the truth. Even when they fought she usually went quiet. She was just a shell sometimes, like she’d dug herself into her own hole that only she could be a part of.

“Marriage,” Billy scoffed, “What a wondrous thing.” 

[helloalycia]

girl next door [one] // wanda maximoff

summary: somebody new moves into the flat next to yours and you feel the need to introduce yourself, only to learn she's not very talkative

warning/s: none i don’t think??

author’s note: first part to a three-parter i’ve been working on, hope you like it! (also the masterlist needs to be updated so soz about that)

part two | part three | part four | part five |masterlist | wattpad

Shopping bags in hand, I returned from the supermarket to my flat when I saw the usually-vacant flat next door to me in use. The front door was slightly ajar, with several moving boxes in front and the sound of someone moving about inside. Huh, so someone moved in. It had been vacant for half a year now – it was nice to finally have a neighbour!

I headed to my own flat, my nosey self taking a peek through the door to see if I could have an idea of who was moving in, but I couldn't see anyone, so I continued to go into my own place and unpack my groceries. After doing so, I decided to head next door and introduce myself, excited to meet someone new in the building.

The boxes from earlier were gone now, probably all inside, and the door was shut like I usually saw it. I sucked up a breath before knocking on, a friendly smile reserved on my lips for whoever would open.

It took a moment, but the door finally opened and revealed a brunette with bright hazel eyes and a mildly confused expression on her face. She seemed strangely familiar, but I couldn't quite pinpoint it.

"Hey! I just wanted to come 'round and introduce myself. I'm your new neighbour." I pointed to my door next to hers and added, "I saw you moving in earlier. I'm Y/N."

She pursed her lips, eyes glancing around subtly before looking me up and down. "Er, hi... I'm Wanda."

I detected a slight accent in her voice with the few words she spoke and became immediately intrigued since everyone in this building was usually the same old American. I didn't ask about it though, as I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable at our first meeting.

"Nice to meet you, Wanda," I returned with a smile. "I've been living here for a year now, so if you need a hand with anything or need pointers for where to get the best Chinese, I'm your girl." I paused, expecting some sort of reaction, but she didn't move a muscle. Swallowing awkwardly, I added, "Of course, if you just need a hand with unpacking or anything, I'm also happy to help."

She still didn't reply, and in fact, she looked a bit peeved with my presence which made me realise that maybe she just wasn't a talkative person.

I cleared my throat nervously before finishing with, "I'll, er, I'll leave you to it. Sorry to disturb you..."

I chewed on my lower lip as I avoided her piercing gaze and went back to my own place. Not everybody was interested in befriending their neighbours, I got that, so I respected her decision and decided not to bother her in the future. It didn't make me feel any less embarrassed at my intrusiveness though.

I didn't think much of it until the following morning when I was watering my plants out on the fire escape. My fire escape was joined with the neighbour's – the neighbour that usually didn't exist but was now Wanda. The brunette was stood there, drinking some coffee and staring out into the distance. I debated wishing her a good morning, but decided against it as I recalled her being quite introverted. Instead, I awkwardly watered the several plant pots I had, opting to stay quiet so I could be in and out without bugging her once more.

To my surprise, she spoke up and it took me a second to realise she was talking to me.

I held my watering jug upright as I glanced in her direction. She was already staring at me, deep set eyes darkened over the rim of her coffee cup.

"What's that?" I asked, not sure what she’d said.

She cleared her throat, eyes flickering to the plants to distract from her discomfort. "I'm sorry. For being strange yesterday. You were being warm and welcoming and I just..." She paused, releasing a shaky breath. "I've had a bad past few weeks. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

I definitely wasn't expecting that, then realised how many bad days I'd had and taken out on random strangers. I didn't blame her and instead felt bad for her – moving into a new place was supposed to be exciting, so I couldn't imagine what had ruined her past few weeks.

"Well, apology accepted," I said with a small smile. "And I hope things begin to look up for you soon, Wanda."

Her lips twitched into the tiniest of smiles and I noticed how different she looked when she wasn't down in the dumps – she was quite beautiful.

I finished watering my plants before giving her a final smile. I was about to head back inside, but I hung back curiously.

"Er, Wanda, if you don't mind me saying," I started randomly, "you seem familiar. We haven't met before, have we?"

She raised her eyebrows with surprise. "Oh, really? You don't kn–?" She tilted her head to the side, as if expecting me to understand, but I wasn't sure what she wanted. "I... I guess I just have one of those faces."

I studied her curiously, trying to figure it out. But nothing was coming to mind, so I hummed in agreement. "Yeah, I guess so... anyway, enjoy the rest of your day."

She nodded. "You, too."

–

The next time I saw Wanda was probably a week later, just after I collected my mail from the mailroom. I'd received one of those random free trial boxes for a subscription I must have accidentally signed up for – a box of different flavoured trail mixes – and felt bad throwing it out since it was still food at the end of the day. There were nuts in the mixes, which I was allergic to, so I decided to knock on Wanda's door and see if she wanted them.

I hadn't spoken to her since she moved in, except for the occasional good morning on the fire escape if we saw one another, so I hoped she was a little happier compared to when we last spoke properly. Maybe whatever had bothered her was resolved now.

When she opened the door, she seemed surprised that it was me, probably not expecting me to stop by again after last time.

I offered her a smile. "Hey, Wanda. I, er, hope this isn't a bad time."

She shook her head after recovering from her surprise. "No, no, it's not. Is everything okay?" She paused, glancing around, unprepared. "Do you want to come in or...?"

"It's okay, I'm good here," I said when I saw how uncomfortable she seemed. I wasn't just about to invite myself into her flat because she felt she needed to ask. "I just stopped by because, well, do you want this?" I handed her the box, adding, "I got a free sample in the post. Didn't wanna throw it out because it's food, y'know? And I'm allergic to nuts, so my throat will probably puff up and stop me from breathing which isn't good."

I laughed awkwardly, internally cringing at how I spoke utter nonsense because of her lack of her words and my stupid need to fill the silence.

"Unless you're allergic to nuts too," I added as an afterthought, when she glanced at the packaging with no readable expression. "In which case I should probably throw them right away and this whole thing is stupid."

After what felt like an eternity of me not shutting up, she lifted her gaze, eyes softening with a hint of amusement.

"I'm not allergic to nuts," she assured me, before nodding. "Thank you, Y/N."

I relaxed, not even realising how tense my shoulders were. "That's– that's good... so, how are you settling into your new place? All good, I hope?"

Subconsciously, I chewed on the inside of my mouth, wondering why I was so eager to speak to somebody who clearly didn't want to speak to me. She was so quiet, not a woman of many words, yet I couldn't help but feel responsible for welcoming her.

"It's nice," she said, glancing around thoughtfully. "It's quiet. Private."

I nodded in agreement, eyes falling to her doorframe as I said, "Yeah, that's true. Nothing eventful ever happens here."

She hummed, acknowledging my words. I figured the conversation had ran dry and I'd stayed a little too long, so I tried to think of a way to end it without her feeling forced to. Instead, she spoke up next.

"I like your garden."

I furrowed my brows, wondering what she was talking about.

"The flowers on our fire escape," she clarified, small smile tugging at her lips. "They're beautiful."

I stifled a laugh. "I mean, thanks, but it's barely a garden. I've always wanted a proper space to grow stuff, but obviously I can't have that here."

"Well, you've done a great job with what you have," she complimented, and I was sure it was the most she'd spoken to me since moving in. I suddenly didn't feel like she disliked my presence as much as I once thought.

"Thank you," I said gratefully. "Maybe you can start your own alongside mine some day."

"Maybe," she shrugged, "but probably not. Everything I touch–" She paused, life leaving her eyes momentarily, and head looking down to her shoes. "Everything I touch dies."

I pressed my lips together, not expecting the awkward silence to follow. Wanda seemed stuck in thought and I wasn't sure how I'd managed to bring the conversation down so suddenly, especially with the talk of flowers.

"The lovely thing about flowers," I began, earning her attention and hoping to brighten the mood, "is that they only require a little love, some sunlight and some water to keep going. They tend to take care of themselves. Perfect for even the blackest of thumbs."

She let out a breath through her nose, a half chuckle and half acknowledgment of my comment. It was the closest I'd get to a response, so I ran a hand through my hair and took a step back.

"Anyway, I'm glad you're settling in okay," I concluded with a kind smile. "Again, if you need anything, I'm just next door."

"Thank you," she said, returning the smile, and her eyes sparkled as she did. "Have a good afternoon, Y/N."

"You, too, Wanda."

–

The apartment complex I lived in rarely had people entering that I didn't recognise – I'd lived here long enough to know who was who, even the postwoman and maintenance guy. So, when I was leaving for the supermarket and saw a suspicious-looking man walking down the hall, eyes checking every door, I grew curious.

"You okay there, sir?" I called out to him after locking my front door.

He looked my way, readjusting his cap lower on his head, casting a shadow over his face. "Er, yeah..." He hesitated, glancing at his phone before looking to me again. "Actually, maybe you can help me. I'm looking for Wanda Maximoff's apartment. Do you know which one that is?"

I narrowed my eyes at the tall stranger. "I'm sure you can understand my concern when I ask who's asking."

"Oh, no, I completely understand," he said with a nod, and I could swear I had seen him before. "I'm an old friend of hers."

I quirked a brow. Strange man who claimed to a woman-who-lived-alone's friend? That had trouble written all over it. And from one woman to another, I was concerned, even if I didn’t know her very well.

"That's not saying much, sir," I said, biting back the annoyance. "I think that maybe you should–"

I stopped speaking when Wanda's door opened and she popped her head out. She looked to me before spotting the tall stranger, shoulders relaxing.

"I thought I heard you out here," she mumbled to the stranger, before stepping out fully and giving me a reassuring look. "It's okay, Y/N. I know him."

I nodded, glancing at the man, before meeting Wanda's eyes knowingly. "If you're sure..."

She seemed comfortable as she crossed her arms, hugging herself. Smiling reassuringly, she nodded. I relaxed when I saw she knew the suspicious stranger.

"In that case, sorry 'bout the interrogation," I apologised to her friend. "But, you gotta understand with the whole getup you have..."

Her friend chuckled deeply, looking to his shoes with amusement. "Yeah, sorry about that, ma'am. Didn't mean to worry you. It's nice to know Wanda here has thoughtful neighbours though."

"I'm twenty-two, not a ma'am," I said with amusement, before shaking my head. "Anyway, I should get going. Sorry again."

Wanda and her friend nodded as I left them; I was just glad it wasn't some creepy perv stalking our building – that had happened once.

I headed to the supermarket to do some shopping when I saw Wanda again, this time in the milk aisle. Well, she actually saw me, her trolley stopping before mine as she got my attention.

"Oh, Wanda, hey," I greeted her with a smile. "Fancy seeing you here."

She cracked a smile. "Yeah, well, I needed to pick up a few things. Milk, actually," she grabbed some from the fridge to prove her point, "when I saw you."

I nodded, before remembering earlier and feeling a little embarrassed. "Hey, er, sorry about before with your friend. I hope I didn't offend them or anything."

"No need to apologise," she said with a shake of her head. "It's actually very nice of you to have my back like that. I mean, we don't even know each other that well, but you watched out for me. I appreciate it."

"It's the bare minimum of a neighbour," I joked, before settling into genuine smile. "Besides, I'd like to think you'd do the same."

"Of course," she agreed, nodding slightly, before her eyes drifted to the fridge.

I noticed that every conversation we shared felt unfinished, like there was more to be said but neither of us had the guts to say it. Like now, for example, I wanted to check in and see if she was okay, but I felt like I was overstepping since, as she'd put it, we didn’t know each other very well. So, I changed the subject instead.

"So, just milk then?" I asked, nodding to her trolley which had a few bits and bobs in.

She was confused for a moment, zoning back into reality, before it registered in her mind and she answered, "Along with a few other things. And you?"

"Pretty much same," I said with a shrug.

Her eyes lingered in my trolley as she stifled a smile. "That looks like a lot more than a few things, Y/N." 

I almost laughed. "Technically, yeah, I guess..." I met her curious gaze, explaining, "I'm having a meal with my sister, her boyfriend and my boyfriend at my place tonight. Cooking a lamb roast." She raised her eyebrows with mild surprise, making me shrug dismissively. "It's not that big of a deal, but there's a lot to prepare and I like things to be perfect, so yeah."

She licked her lips and nodded. "It sounds great. Good luck, I guess. I'm sure it'll turn out wonderful."

"Fingers crossed."

She chuckled, glancing at her shoes, making her dark hair fall in front of her like a curtain. When she looked back up, I couldn't help but smile at how cute she looked.

"I'll leave you to it then," she said, before redirecting her trolley around me. "See you whenever."

"See you." I nodded as she walked past me, shoulder brushing mine and leaving me startled at the weird effect she had on me whenever we spoke.

It didn't last for long though, so I brushed it off and continued to do my shop. The evening couldn't come soon enough, and I soon found myself entertaining my boyfriend, my sister and her boyfriend at my dinner table.

"So I was cooking us a nice meal, as we planned, and she ended up having a go at me because of the mess I made afterwards," my boyfriend, Teddy, was explaining to my sister and her boyfriend, Caleb. "That's why I don't try to be romantic anymore."

I paused from sipping my water, looking over at Teddy with an are you serious? look on my face. Y/S/N and Caleb laughed at Teddy's story, but I wasn't as amused as they were.

"Aw, c'mon, babe, don't be pissed off again," Teddy pleaded teasingly from beside me. "It's a joke. I'm joking."

"But that's not how it happened," I corrected him, before looking to the couple before me. "What Teddy means to say is that I had just cleaned the kitchen and told him that when he cooks, he should try to clean as he goes along so it's easier, but of course, he drops cream everywhere and I had to clean it out of the crevices of the counter. All over again."

Y/S/N and Caleb laughed at my retelling of the story, and Teddy frowned playfully as he looked my way.

"And that's definitely not the reason you're not romantic," I said to him promisingly. "When was the last time you even got me flowers?"

He tried to take lead of the conversation again, straightening up and asking, "When was the last time you got me flowers? Feminism, Y/N. It goes both ways."

He was never usually this obnoxious and it was irking me. Y/S/N and Caleb assumed it was all a joke, so were laughing it off, but I was starting to get frustrated. How could he try and make me look terrible in front of my own family?

"I bought you flowers two weeks ago when you got your promotion, remember?" I answered him with a raised brow.

"Damn, she got you there, Ted," Caleb said like it was a burn.

I subtly clenched my jaw and distracted myself with sipping water. Teddy sighed and tried to wrap an arm around me, but I pulled away slightly.

"Oh, come on, you're not mad, are you? This is all in good faith, babe," he said lightly.

I downed my water and looked between them all. "I think I'm gonna get some air. You guys enjoy your drinks."

They all chorused their disagreements, but I couldn't be bothered dealing with them when they were tipsy and annoying, so I ignored them and headed to the fire escape for a breather.

When I reached the railing, I sighed immediately, feeling like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Until I heard a creaking noise and jumped with surprise before seeing Wanda sitting on her side of the fire escape, drink in hand.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she said apologetically.

I breathed out, turning around and leaning my back against the railing so I could see her better. "It's okay, it's not you. I just– I forgot you could be there. Used to living without a neighbour. It's taking some getting used to."

I forced a small smile to reassure her, before looking down and taking small breaths of fresh air. Teddy could get under my skin at times, tonight being one of those times, and it was happening more and more lately. Why couldn't he just be less... annoying?

"Is everything okay?" Wanda asked, and I looked up fo see her green-gold eyes glowing in the dark under the moon light.

"Yeah," I said with a nod. I glanced inside, seeing my three guests laughing it up like I was still there. I collapsed on my chair and stared into the bustling city ahead. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Wanda hesitated. "Didn't you have that dinner tonight?"

I leaned in the palm of my hand, mumbling, "Yeah. It's still going on. I just needed some air."

Wanda must have sensed there was more to my words – it didn't take a genius to see that – but to my relief, she didn't push on. All she said was, "Oh, okay," and stayed quiet.

The two of us sat there, in a comfortable silence, staring into the city and revelling in the moon's presence. It was beautiful out, though not a single star could be seen because of the city's pollution. Instead, the moon hung high above our heads and conflicted with the many street and building lights of New York City, thriving even past dusk.

I probably could have stayed there all night, preferring Wanda's silent yet comfortable presence to whatever was waiting for me back inside. But to my dismay, I was called back in and sighed quietly to myself. 

"I should head back in," I excused myself, standing up to leave. But I lingered by the door, asking Wanda, "Have you eaten dinner yet?" She seemed puzzled with my question, and I continued speaking anyway. "I made a lot of food and have loads of leftovers I can't finish myself."

She seemed to understand what I was implying and shook her head. "That's okay, Y/N, thank you."

"Wanda, I insist," I said with a small smile. "It'll just go in the bin otherwise."

She was still reluctant. "Honestly, it's fine."

i wasn't taking no for an answer though. "I'll stop by in a bit to drop it off."

"Y/N, I–"

"See you then!" I exclaimed before heading back inside and leaving her no choice to deny it.

"There she is," Y/S/N called out to me when I returned. "You feel better?"

"Perfect," I said sarcastically.

She laughed. "C'mon, we're all sorry. Besides, Caleb and I have to go now, so we want to end on a good note."

Was I being too butt hurt? Probably.

"Right, sorry," I said, looking to them all, before saying, "Do you guys want any food to bring back with you?"

"You guys enjoy it," Caleb said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It was delicious though, Y/N. Thanks for the lovely evening."

"Anytime," I said with a tired smile, before leading them to the door and looking to my sister. "Let me know when you're home, yeah?"

She hummed in agreement, before pulling me into a tight hug. "Love you, Y/N."

"Love you, too," I returned with a playful eye roll.

After bidding them a goodbye, I was left alone with Teddy, who was surprisingly washing the dishes.

"This your way of apologising?" I joked, stopping by the sink.

He glanced at me with apologetic eyes. "Depends. Is it working?"

As I met his brown eyes, I thought back to how frustrating he was acting earlier. He must have been acting out in front of guests for some reason, but he wasn't always like that. Maybe I was overreacting. 

"I'll let you know when you're done," I retorted, making him smile with amusement.

As he did that, I worked on filling some containers with leftover dinner for Wanda, being sure to include a generous amount of everything.

"Who's that for?" Teddy asked, noticing what I was doing.

"Wanda, my new neighbour."

"Never heard of her."

I gave him a knowing look. "Hence the word 'new'."'

He returned the stare. "What I mean is, I've never seen her around."

I shrugged, finishing packing the containers and stacking them to carry. "She prefers to keep to herself."

"What, like a weirdo?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, Teddy. She's just private. Introverted, if you will."

"Sounds like a weirdo to me..."

I chose to ignore him as I left the flat and headed to Wanda's. She opened up quicker than usual, probably since she was expecting me this time.

"Bon appétit," I joked, before holding out the takeaway containers. "It's lamb roast with veg, potatoes, some gravy and bread."

"You really didn't have to," she said, though accepted the food. When she glanced down at it, she added, "This is a lot for one person."

I couldn't help the smile on my face. "Enough for second's. You'll have to let me know if you like it. It's my best recipe."

She snickered, eyes meeting mine. "I'm sure it's delicious... do you want to come in?"

Stepping to the side, she looked to me with what I think was a hopeful expression. I felt bad when I smiled sadly, shaking my head.

"I'd love to, Wanda, but I've actually still got my boyfriend over and I can't really, y'know..."

"No worries," she was quick to reassure. "It's– no, it's okay, honestly. I just thought I'd ask."

It was the first time she'd ever asked and meant it, which meant she was finally getting comfortable with me. I would have preferred to go in, but I couldn't just leave Teddy, nor kick him out.

"Maybe we can hang out tomorrow?" I asked hopefully. "If you want, that is. Because I want to. But I don't want to just invite myself over."

She seemed amused as she nodded. "Tomorrow sounds great. Maybe I can make you dinner, as a thank you for this food."

I grew a little excited at spending a bit more time with the quiet, reserved brunette. "I'd like that."

She nodded, lips pursed into a suppressed smile, and glanced at the food in her hand. "Great. Well... have a good evening, Y/N. And thank you again for the food."

"Good evening," I returned, subconsciously memorising the rare smile she gave me, before leaving her to it.

When I returned to my flat, all I could think about was the next night and getting to know Wanda.

[sunlight-moonrise]

Sugar, Spice, and Everything (Not So) Nice (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Being a Barista and falling for a regular is as cliche as it gets. Having that customer become your new professor? Not so much. 

A/N: *Peeks head out* Hello everyone. I have come back from my unannounced hiatus to show off this baby. Major thanks to @definitelynotkatesblog​ and @clean-bands-dirty-stories​ for helping me put this fic together. This was written for the lovely @httpnxtt​ for the secret-fic-swap in the Discord (thanks @imagining-in-the-margins​.) I hope you all enjoy this smutty goodness. 

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: Face Slapping, Degradation, Slight Hair Pulling, Oral Sex (male receiving), Fingering, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex/Creampie

Word Count: 6.4K

Masterlist

Being a barista is pretty awesome. Sure, there were bitchy customers and super early mornings but it had it’s redeeming perks. We got free coffee, tea, and snacks during our shifts, which served the caffeine addict in me. I also learned how to make popular lattes, mochas, and frappes that I ended up making at home for myself one too many times. While there were the occasional assholes who couldn’t appear human before getting their hands on some caffeine, there were the regulars who made it worth it. Most of the regulars were so sweet, I appreciated a familiar face when they came in. Some.. more than others.

“He’s baaaaaaaaack,” my coworker Hazel whispered to me in a sing-song voice as she scribbled a customer’s name on a cup. I turned to see who she was talking about, but I already had an inkling about who it was.

My suspicions were correct. I turned to see one of our kindest regulars, my personal favorite customer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Is it weird to know the full name -including the honorific- of a customer? Possibly. But when I’d asked for his name to write on his cup the first time he came in, he accidentally gave me his full name. 

“Dr. Reid- uh, Spencer. Sorry, work habit.” He stuttered, avoiding my eyes after the mistake.

“No worries! What can I get started for you?”

As a Criminology major,  I learned to study the people who catch my attention before indulging them. Call it an old habit. 

Dr. Spencer Reid had earned his title and then some. He’d joined the FBI at only 22, having six degrees under his belt by the age of 27. He’d written several dissertations and co-wrote novels with his colleague, David Rossi. Someone with his reputation could be a pompous ass and have a leg to stand on, which is what made his humbled demeanor so much sweeter. He was also incredibly easy on the eyes, which was a nice little bow on top. 

Hazel liked to joke about how we’d make a cute couple but I know she only did it to watch me get flustered.  

I walked towards the counter to take his order, leaving Hazel with the task of refilling the caramel syrup. I’m always the one to help him since he very aptly pointed out that I’m the only one who makes his coffee just how he likes it.  

Some days, he’d let me surprise him with a random creation. I’d confirm if he wanted caffeine (he always did), iced or not, and any flavor requests. He’d take his drink, tip me handsomely and let me know his thoughts on the drink the next time he came in. So far, his favorite was the almond milk honey latte I’d concocted. It was nice to have a little bit of fun, especially with regulars who were as consistent as him.

“Hey Doc, what can I get ya’?” I asked.

“The usual, please,” he said with a smile. I nodded and set off to make his drink: a venti dark roast with a shit ton of sugar, a dash of nutmeg, and a tiny bit of cinnamon.

“Of course!” I quickly go to fill his order, making sure to put a complimentary treat in a bag for him. I know he had the ultimate sweet tooth so I try to sneak him a confection whenever I can. At first, he was a bit reluctant to take the free pastries, but nowadays he usually smiles when he sees the small bag. 

“Here ya’ go.” I handed him his steamy cup of caffeine along with the little treat, seeing him smile at the small pun I add to his cup, “Have a BREW-tiful day, Doctor!” I watched as his lips landed on the rim of the cup, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the sight making my cheeks promptly flush. I cleared my throat before asking, “Is it good?”

“It’s always good when you make it,” he stated matter of factly, a small smile touching his lips. The heat in my cheeks rose again. “Will you be taking a course this summer?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. My first day is actually later today. I’m surprised the class section was open, to be honest.” Super surprised actually. I’d been trying to enroll in this class for the past couple of semesters but it was always full by the time I was able to even load the registration page.

“Well, I’ll wish you luck, but I’m sure you won’t need it.”

“How can you be so sure?” 

“I can just tell.” He stated calmly, like it was common knowledge. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. Before he could respond, an insistent cough caught both of our attention. I peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see a customer waiting for his order to be taken. I turned my attention back to the Doctor, an annoyed look painted on my face. He nodded, taking a hint from the impatient mouth breather behind him. 

“Thank you for the coffee. Enjoy the rest of your day. I hope that class goes well.”

“Bye, you too.” I waved, watching as he exited the door. I turned to the waiting customer, a bit miffed that he interrupted our conversation. But because I was at work, I plastered a fake smile on my face so that he wouldn’t see just how annoyed I was. “Welcome, how may I help you?”

●●●

After clocking out at 2:30 PM, I made a dash for the building where my class would be held. It’s not supposed to start for another half-hour, but I wanted to be sure to get there in time to choose a good seat and settle in before the rest of the class arrived.

Luckily room 301 was relatively empty so I was able to score a perfect seat by the window. I decided to kill some time by listening to some music and doodling randomly in my notebook. Some time had passed when I felt someone take the seat next to me. I turned to see a young man occupying the chair beside mine. He looked to be a frat boy based on the Greek letters he was sporting. Who wears a cap and hoodie in this weather? I really hope he didn’t expect to cheat off of me- although these types of guys always seem to do so.

I was about to return to my doodle when I felt a poke on my shoulder. I turned to give the offender my full attention, removing one of the earbuds from my ears. 

“Hey, I’m Tony,” frat boy said, with a wide smile adorning his face. I must admit, his boyish grin melted the slight annoyance I had begun to stir toward him. I returned his greeting and introduced myself as well. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” he continued, “but I like to have at least one buddy in each of my classes. In case we need help or miss an assignment or something.”

I nodded my head - a friend in a class was always useful when it came to studying and swapping notes. We chatted a bit more, learning about each other’s major and why we both decided to take a summer course. Tony is a double major and this course will satisfy the credits he needs for his psychology requirement. This is why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. 

It wasn’t until I heard the hush of the classroom that I realized the class was about to begin. I turned back to my notebook, preparing to jot down some important information despite it being the first day of class.

“Good morning class.” Wait. That voice... I didn’t even need to pick my head up to know who had spoken. “This is Criminal Psychology and I am your instructor, Doctor Spencer Reid. Unfortunately, Professor Monroe could not cover this course so I’ll be his permanent replacement. Now…”

I raised my head, watching as he continued to talk about what is to be expected in this course while a TA handed out the syllabus. He went on, able to capture the attention of everyone while speaking of the experiences he had with an array of criminals. His eyes scanned the room and for a brief moment I thought they would land on me, but they continued to take in the mass amount of students before him.

My concentration was broken by Tony passing me a copy of the syllabus. I scanned it over, making sure to highlight all the important dates. I didn’t want any exams or projects conflicting with my work schedule. I also made note of how the overall grade system is broken down. The whole thing seems pretty fair and everything was spaced out enough where I wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed with the workload.

“… and that pretty much wraps it up. Does anyone have any questions?” I tuned in just as he was pulling the first class to a close. No one raised their hands, so he dismissed us with a reminder to read the first chapter of the textbook and to check for any emails.

“So do you want to grab lunch?” Tony asked from beside me. I contemplated whether or not to go with him. He must have seen the hesitation in my face because he quickly added, “Not as a date or anything, I just wanted to grab a bite and I didn’t want to do it alone.”

“Sure,” I smiled, “Let me just ask the professor a quick question about his office hours and I’ll meet you at the food court.”

“Sweet, I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, Tony gathered his stuff and exited the back door. 

I focused my attention on the podium, seeing a gaggle of girls surrounding him asking redundant questions. From what I could hear, their questions could have been answered if they’d read the syllabus. I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, they were probably more focused on him rather than what he was saying during class. I waited a few more minutes for them to finish up before I made my way to him.

“So do I call you Doctor or Professor now?” I laughed. 

“From you, I’d respond to either,” he replied warmly. The comment made me blush. If he looked into my eyes at that moment, he’d see more stars in them than the night sky. I bit my lip to stop the idiotic grin from spreading across my face. 

He’s your professor, get a hold of yourself.

“How can I help?” he asked, bringing me back to the original reason as to why I was standing in front of him without a cash register between us. 

I cleared my throat. “Um, I was wondering if it was possible to see you outside your normal office hours? I usually work the morning shifts and I don’t want to flood your emails with my questions.” I asked.

“Of course,” he said. “You can come to my office at whatever time works best for you. I know balancing a work and school schedule can be hard. Besides, I’m usually there handling paperwork anyway.” He gave a small shrug, pushing his hands in his pockets. 

“Thank you so much. I look forward to the rest of the semester Professor Reid.” I liked the way his newfound honorific rolled off my tongue. 

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Professor.” With that, I left and headed out to meet Tony. 

I was able to find him at the food court. We got some food and chatted more about our classes as well as life outside of school. He made it easy to be his friend, and it was nice having someone to talk to. He works as a waiter so we shared our customer service horror stories and tales of sneaking food at work. It was a nice distraction that took my mind off of Dr. Reid and the ongoing battle of calling him Doctor or Professor. As Tony rambled, my mind wandered about other things I’d like to call Spencer instead. 

●●●

In that short span of two weeks, we already had an exam, an oral presentation, and a report on the psychoanalysis of serial killers. Not one day had been wasted, but this is what to be expected from a summer course. The essay was due the day before. Now we had to wait for our grades which gave us a moment to take a breath.

I was worried that my paper was subpar; especially since I chose to write about Andrei Chikatilo, a serial killer from Ukraine. He wasn’t as popular as those in America, so I ended up spending hours on deep research to find substantial information about his crimes. It also didn’t help that some of the original reports weren’t in English. I had worked hard, and hoped Professor Reid would see that, even if my writing could sometimes be a little weak. I was worried about the grade as our research papers held the weight of 20% of our final mark. 

“Hello? Earth to Y/N! Anyone in there?” Hazel’s voice pierced through my worry bubble, her hand waving in front of my face. I shook my head, trying to focus on restocking the coffee beans.

“Sorry Haze, I’m thinking about this class.”

“Funny you say that; your favorite professor just walked in. Thought you might want to take his order.” She wagged her brows at me, making kissy faces as I hurried to the front register, trying my best to not let my eagerness be so glaringly obvious.

There he was, in his usual handsome glory, patiently waiting for me to take his order. He greeted me with a small smile that I happily returned.

“Hey Doc, what can I get you today?”

He debated for a moment before saying, “Surprise me.”

“Gotcha.” I already had an in my head; it’d been a while since he asked me to make him a random drink so I’d had plenty of time to plan. We got an early shipment of ingredients for our fall-themed drinks and I figured he would appreciate some pumpkin spice in his caffeine. “How are the papers coming along?” I asked casually as I rang him up.

“Pretty well. I’m almost done, so you’ll all receive your grades later today.” Wow, that was fast. I wondered if he stayed up reading all those papers to be done by today. Probably not, a TA must have helped him.

“I am a bit nervous about mine, especially since it’s worth a huge part of our final grade.” I really wanted to get an A in this course, but it was hard juggling everything in such a short amount of time.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he reassured. “I haven’t properly finished yours yet but it looked great just from what I’ve seen thus far.” His words gave me a little reassurance.

“Thanks. I put a lot of effort into it. Let me grab your coffee now.” Spencer walked towards the pick-up station while I grabbed a venti cup for his drink. Just when I was about to make his order, I saw another familiar face come up to the register. “Tony, hey!” I shouted, placing the cup back down, “What can I get you?” 

This was the first time he’d been here, despite him saying for the past few days that he’d stop by for a visit, even with the promise of a cake pop if he did. It was nice to see another familiar face.

“Hey coffee girl, how you doin’ today?”

“Just peachy. My feet are killing me, though.” Just saying the words caused the ache on the soles of my feet to spike higher. I thanked my lucky stars I was almost done with this eight-hour shift.

“Give me the chance to sweep you off your feet, I promise you won’t regret it.” he offered boldly. It wasn’t the first time he’d joked about taking me out. I laughed, especially since he had a girlfriend. She met us for lunch one day and we became fast friends- she was an incredibly sweet and intelligent girl, polite and elegant as well. It is a wonder how his frat boy charm won her over but opposites attract, I guess.

“Shut up, Casanova. What are you gonna have?”

“I’ll have a grande iced matcha latte, please.” I should’ve known. He told me that he loves matcha flavored food and drinks the first time we grabbed lunch after class. He had complained that there was no good place to get one on campus. 

“Coming right up.” I quickly filled his order since it was faster to make compared to the pumpkin spiced latte. I handed him his bribe-cake pop, matcha flavor of course, while he waited for me to finish making his drink.

“By the way, we’re still studying at the library for the exam later tonight, right?” Tony asked.

“Yup, I’ll meet you at 8.”

“Copy that, see you later coffee girl.” He turned to leave while I turned to make Professor Reid’s order. I put extra whip cream and a bit more syrup to satiate his sweet tooth. I grabbed a fresh chocolate muffin from the display case and popped it into a bag for him as well, drawing yet another pun on the good doctors bag. “Thanks for being such a TEA-rrific professor!”

“Here ya’ go Doc,” I called out before placing his drink and muffin on the counter. I looked up to see him no longer smiling. “Is everything okay?”

Ignoring my question, he said, “I wasn’t aware you were so close to Mr. Montgomery.”

“Oh yeah, we study together once in a while.” I could have sworn I saw his frown deepen before his features became void of any emotions. He shifted his eyes downward, his hand moving rapidly to grab the cup.

“I should get going.”

“Oh, okay” Before I could say goodbye, he was already halfway out the door. 

That was weird. I looked at the counter and noticed that he left the cupcake behind. Maybe he was in a rush?

I shook my head. I needed to concentrate on making it through the last couple of hours of work. 

●●●

I made my way to the classroom, smiling at Tony as he pulled out my seat for me. Professor Reid walked in a few minutes later, his tall figure drawing all the attention to the center of the small stage. He let us know he already graded the papers and that they would be distributed by the TA before the end of class. I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach but decided to brush it off and pay attention in class. Despite my attempts to focus on his lecture, I found my mind wandering every so often anyway.

I couldn’t help but think he was less animated today. Usually, he taught with such passion that the class couldn’t take their eyes off him. But today, it felt as if we were all in a boring seminar with an ancient professor. Tony kept glancing at the clock, probably also wondering why time felt like it was going by so slowly. 

I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling the entire class. It didn’t help matters that every time I would raise my hand to answer a question, he would call on another student. What the hell did I do? 

I decided to tune out the rest of the class. There is no point in being an actively engaged student if I wasn’t going to get treated like one. I’d just get the notes from Tony later.

Thirty minutes before the end of class, the TA handed out our essays while Professor Reid wrapped. 

“Some of you did very well, while a few others struggled with the assignment.” His eyes landed on mine as he said that. It was the first time he had glanced in my direction the whole class. He moved on to the other side of the room. My mind was probably just playing tricks on me. “If you have any questions you can see me at my office hours next week or send me an email. You are dismissed.”

The TA finally made his way over to me, handing my essay in a slight fold. I looked at the grade on top and almost dropped the paper. My heart sped up as I stared at the letter in bright red ink. No way, no way this could be my report. I looked at the right-hand corner and saw my name at the top. I read through the first page and saw they were indeed my words.

How the fuck was it possible that I got a D on this paper? I knew my writing wasn’t the strongest, but a D? 

“How you’d do?” Tony asked. For a moment I forgot I was in a room with other people.

I cleared my throat, trying to relive the lump so that he didn’t hear the croak in my voice. “Umm, not what I expected. I’m going to try to speak to him about it.” Tony was a smart kid, so I was sure he could see how tense I was. Luckily he didn’t question me any further and instead told me he’d text me later before leaving the classroom.

Fortunately, there were no other students in the classroom to slow me down this time. I walked right up to the podium, watching as Professor Reid placed some papers in his satchel. 

“Professor, I need to speak with you.”

“Not now, I’m busy,” he replied, not even bothering to glance in my direction. This can’t be real. The sweet, kind Doc could not be the man acting like a total asshole right now.

“I really need to discuss with you my paper,” I pressed, raising my voice a little louder in an attempt to get his attention. That was wishful thinking on my part since he continued to fiddle with his satchel.

“I said I’m busy,” he uttered once again, his voice void of any emotion. He was about to walk past me, ignoring my whole being. His blatant disregard made my cheeks burn, and not in the usual way they usually did when I was around him.

“Spencer,” I barked, “We need to talk. Now.” For a few moments, he stood in front of me, his back facing my direction.

I was about to speak again before I heard him say, “My office. Half an hour.” He exited, leaving me alone in an empty classroom. The only things keeping me company were the fuming feelings swirling inside me and the failed paper clutched at my fist. 

●●●

I knocked on his office door ten minutes earlier than he’d told me. The anger in my gut brewed hotter the longer I waited. As soon as I heard a “Come in,” I rushed through the door, slamming it behind me. He regarded me coolly, but didn’t comment on my actions. 

“What can I do for you Ms. (Y/L/N)?” I walked up to his large desk, not bothering to take a seat in the chair in front of me. I took a moment to calm myself down before replying.

“Well, you can start by explaining to me why I got such a low score on my paper.” I guess he didn’t like being the only one of us sitting down because he stood up and leaned against the wall behind him.

“It did not meet the requirements for a passing grade as outlined in the rubric. The information given was boring and the overall topic was uninteresting. It was tedious to get through,” he responded nonchalantly, like he was giving me a weather report.  

“You said that you enjoyed it so far.” I rebutted, placing my hands on the desk. I needed something to offer me stability so that I wasn’t visibly shaking.  

“I’d mistaken your work for another student’s. Maybe Mr. Montgomery,” he dryly clipped.

A bitter laugh escaped me as I put the puzzle together. Was- was he serious? Was this man acting like this because of Tony? The audacity! The laugh that bubbled from my lips must have unsettled him. He left his position from the wall in favor of standing in front of me.

“You want to know what I think?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing, “I think you’re jealous that I have another guy that isn’t you getting friendly with me at the shop and because of your inability to keep your---“

“That is enough,” he grounded out, shaking his head. But I didn’t stop talking.

“--private feelings away from your professional ones, you decided to give me a failing grade. Do you know how hard I worked in-” my voice rose up higher and higher until I was yelling.

“I said that’s enough,” he said again, louder this time. But I wasn’t done.

“-this class? This is my life, my fucking future on the line. I’ve told you how important this all is to me and you don’t even give a shit! You’re going to let your interpretation of my relationship with another student influence the way you do your job? And here I thought you were a decent man, Professor.” I hissed, “Do you even give a damn abo-”

“Enough,” he roared, slamming his hands on the desk and caging me against the wood. His breathing was matching the upbeat pace of my own. His quick movement and the sheer volume of his voice caught me off guard, effectively silencing me. 

“I don’t deserve to be punished over your envy,” I whispered, locking eyes with him in a steady gaze.

“You want to see a real punishment, darling?” he hissed, the heat of his words almost breaking my glare, his breath fanning along my face.

We stared at one another for a while, neither of us willing to be the first to back down. The tension between us kept rising and rising until the inevitable happened. I couldn’t be sure who made the first move but before I knew it, our lips collided with a mix of rage and desperation. My arms draped around his neck as he pressed me on to the desk. He placed his hands on the back of my thighs, lifting me up high enough until I was perched on the cool wooden surface.

Spencer’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh way he was kissing me. His tongue parted my lips, gliding over mine with fervor. I couldn’t help but moan as he rolled his hips into me. He continued his rough grind, keeping my legs open as we moved as close together as our bodies would allow. He overwhelmed my senses- the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. Everything was making me absolutely feral for this man. 

I never expected the gentle Dr. Reid to be so fervent, so sensual. The kindhearted, sweet professor who regularly drank his weight in caffeine never gave me this impression. But then again, I’m sure he was shocked by my attitude as well. He knew me as the friendly, bubbly barista, now student, who enjoyed his class. He was about to meet a whole new side of me, just like I was going to for him.

Spencer pulled away from me, our mouths making an audible ‘pop’ sound from the sudden separation. I tried to catch my breath as he stared at me, our chests rising and falling together. If I were to move a bit closer to him, we would be touching once again.

He took a few steps back before motioning me to step in front of him. “I want you to get down on your knees. Now.” I wasn’t going to argue with him, mainly because I wanted the exact same thing he did. I kneeled down, keeping my eyes on his face.

“You going to shut me up, Professor?” I teased, feeling powerful, even though he was looming over me. He didn’t reply, just continued to look down on me with those honey colored eyes- full of lust and rage.

I watched as he slowly placed his hands on his slacks, undoing the belt and buttons. He drew down his pants and boxers at the same time, just low enough to reveal his impressive size. My mouth salivated at the sight of his bulge as he came closer to me.

“We’re going to put that smart mouth to better use. Open.” He said, gripping my face between his fingers, forcing me to follow his orders. I opened my mouth slightly, not giving him exactly what he wanted. Instead of ordering my mouth to open further like I expected, he placed his thumb inside. He pushed the digit deep, pressing it against my tongue. I moaned around the finger, softly nibbling at the skin. He continued to slide his finger within my mouth before dragging it out completely. He wiped the excess spit on my cheek before lightly smacking it. The small shock of pain sent a shiver down my spine.

“Open, and do it right this time.”

I obeyed, opening wide enough to accept him into my mouth. My lips were stretched almost uncomfortably in an attempt to fit around him. He was so hot and thick, I couldn’t help but hum at the taste of him on my tongue. The soft “fuck” that fell from his lips had me purring around him. I went to place my hands on the remaining portion that couldn’t fit, but he batted them away.

“You’re using only your mouth.” 

Fine, have it your way, Sir. 

I placed my hands behind me as I bobbed my head, hallowing my cheeks with every rise. His shallow thrusts encouraged me to suck harder. I slowly pulled away to run my tongue against the vein protruding on the underside of his cock. I was rewarded with a groan escaping his lips.

“I should have known that you would be so good at this, darling,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he tried to control his grunts.

I made sure to look in his eyes as I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock. The face he made was purely angelic. The muscles of his neck protruded more evidently and his breathing became more labored. I placed him back in my mouth, this time taking my time to go down on him.

“That’s right, Princess. Show me what a good girl you are for me.” He moaned as I felt his hands weave in my hair before he pushed my head down on to him, causing me to gag around him, tears pricking my eyes. He continued his thrusts into my mouth, barely allowing me a chance to breathe. My nose repeatedly touched the base of him as I swallowed around his hard length.

Spencer tightened his fingers in my hair and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.  The pace was brutal, but I enjoyed the rough treatment. Knowing that I was the one making him feel good was such a turn on. He buried himself deep in my throat after a few more thrusts to finish. I swallowed his release like the greedy brat that we both now knew I was.

He eventually pulled out, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. I swiped the back off my hand across my mouth to clean off any leftover spit and cum.

“Get up,” he ordered, his voice hoarse.

I did so, rubbing the ache in my knees as I slowly rose. “I want you bent over the desk,” he continued.

“I want you to answer my previous question.” I quipped.

“You’re not in the position to be making commands,” he growled. He wrapped his fingers in my hair again, pulling just roughly enough so that I was looking up at his face. “If you want this to end well for you, I suggest bending over my desk before I stuff my cock in that bratty little mouth of yours again.”

He released me, eyes still on my face waiting for me to follow through on his order. I turned to his desk and did as he asked, bending over the wood until my chest laid flat against the surface. I waited as patiently as I could for him. It felt as if I was in this position for an eternity before he touched me. He pushed both my underwear and skirt down to my knees before placing his hands on my hips. I heard it before I felt it- the smack on my ass that caused me to yelp.

“Fuck, Spencer. What the—” I was cut off with another resounding smack.

“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to give you a real punishment, darling?” I took a deep breath as another shiver went down my spine. He had no business sounding so hot right now. Another smack, this time on my opposite cheek, had me biting down on my lip to stop myself from crying out.

“This” *SMACK* “Is” *SMACK* “What” *SMACK* “Happens” *SMACK* “To” *SMACK* “Bratty” *SMACK* “Little” *SMACK* “Girls” *SMACK*. A sob ripped from my chest as the last blow landed. My ass was on fire and surely littered with his hand prints.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood since you sucked me off so nicely, or I would have made that worse.”

Gee, thanks.

“You look like such a dirty slut like this.” I felt a finger enter me easily, the wetness gathered there making my entrance ready to take him. “So wet. Was it the spanking that got you like this, or your mouth around my cock?” A moan was my only reply as he added another finger, the two digits moving in a scissoring motion. 

“Are you gonna be my sweet girl, now?” He asked as I moved my hips along his fingers, desperately trying to seek some more relief for the fire burning between my thighs as his mouth littered marks along my thighs. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me as he curled his fingers, a slow moan falling from my lips. He pulled them out of me, wiping the slickness against my still burning ass. Fucking bastard. I wiggled my hips against him, hoping he would grant me a reprieve and put his fingers back inside me. Instead, he spanked my ass one more time- one quick, sharp blow against the bruised cheek.

Just when I was about to yell at him, he placed the head of his member against my entrance. He moved up and down my drenched entrance before penetrating me in one full thrust. I took a short breath in, trying to get used to feeling so full. He was stretching me out in the most amazing way.

Spencer waited until I was grinding against him before he pulled out and pushed back into me. “Look at you, such a wanton little bitch aren’t you?” He could call me whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop fucking me.

He kept a steady pace, making sure to grind into me every time he slammed back in. The obscene sound of our skin smacking against one another’s and the moans escaping our throats was an erotic symphony that had my body heat raising the temperature in the room.

He hitched my leg on top of the desk, entering in an angle that made the pleasure so much better. I couldn’t stop the whines that kept escaping my mouth every time he pounded into me. His hand stayed upon my leg, holding me down and limiting my movements. His nails dug into the skin so harshly I was sure there would be bruises left in their wake.  

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he hissed under his breath. “Should have known you just needed to be fucked like the cheap whore you are.” He sped up, hips snapping at an almost punishing pace. The desk creaked every time he slammed into me. I hoped no one was nearby to hear what was going on. A whine left my throat when I felt his fingers rub against my clit. I was so close now.

“Should I stay inside you? Fill you up so you walk around campus carrying my child?” He growls, his pace increasing with each passing moment. “Knock you up so the whole campus knows what a whore you are for me?” He asks, earning a cry ripped from my throat. 

“Who’s fucking you?” he grunted. I don’t know how he expected me to form a coherent statement at this current moment. My eyes could barely stay open at this point. 

“Spencer, please.” He smacked the outside of my thigh.

“Try again, who’s fucking you?” 

“You are, Doctor.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer too, because it earned me another smack on my thigh. I had tears streaming down my face from the pleasurable pain he was giving me.

“You have one more chance or else I’m not letting you come. Now, who’s is fucking you?”

“Professor Reid!” I cried out.

“That’s right darling. Now come on my cock.” A harsh bite on my neck was the ultimate push that had me seeing stars. Spencer thrusted a few more times before fully sheathing himself within me.

He slumped over me, the feel of his breath against my neck causing me to shiver once more. We took a moment to have the high leave our body before he pulled out of me, a gasp leaving the both of us. Spencer was the first to break the silence between us.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked, his voice a bit shy. 

I giggled at his demeanor. A few moments ago, he was fucking me senseless and spanking me over his desk like a porno, and now he was asking me out to dinner. 

“Absolutely,” I smiled. “But I should probably cancel my study plans.” I quickly added. 

He led me to the faculty bathroom so I could freshen myself up. When I emerged, he was back to being the prim and proper professor I knew him to be. Just before we left his office, he leaned down and whispered, “By the way, you got an A.”

[justfangirlthingies]

Friend of a Friend (Dr. Laszlo Kreizler)

This is my first ever request! Thank you very much for sending this in @laurentrvn I hope you like it🥰

Request: would you do Laszlo x fem!reader

Reader was working on Howard Detective Agency. John Moore would like to invite you for dinner, want to expect to see his friends too. later reader was getting ready for dinner, John would like Reader to meet Doctor Kreizler, they get to know each other. they quite bit closed to each other. (fluff)

I usually try (I don't always succeed, but I always try my best) to keep the reader as neutral as possible so that really everyone can read my fics and feel included, but this time there will be mentions of reader's gender and reader wearing a dress.

I also tried to do this as best as I possibly could, I just didn't really know how to make fluff happen after the first meeting, so I added a few things 😅😊

Writing my requests takes me a while since I'm not exactly a very fast writer, I hope you understand :)

Warnings: none, if there is anything you think deserves a warning please lmk so I can add it here

Word count: 3094 words

The day started off pretty normal for you. There was some paperwork for you to do, a few reports to fill out and Miss Howard had asked you to go fetch a piece of evidence or rather a drawing from one of her friends. From John Moore to be exact. You had met him now and then and even exchanged a few words with him, seeing as he often assisted Sara in her cases, his reports in the papers have brought in new clients to the company on more than one occasion. It was a win win for both sides. People read his stories about the cases he assisted on because they were exciting and in exchange the Howard Detective Agency gained popularity and another pair of helpful hands for their cases.

It was early afternoon when you made your way to the meetup point, said meetup point being a simple, small, wooden bench in a park. You looked around, but John was not in sight just yet. You were probably just early, that must be it. With your thoughts drifting around your head and focusing on the current case you sat down on the bench to wait for the man. It was mere minutes later that you saw a flash of brown from the corner of your eyes, so you turned your head in the direction. It was John. He sat down next to you as you flashed him a smile "Good day, Mr. Moore." He smiled back at you "Good day to you too, but you can just call me John." "Well, I suppose you may just call me (Y/n) then." John gave you a small nod before his eyes switched back to the notebook in his hands, holding it between the two of you he opened it up. You stared in amazement at the drawings as the gentleman next to you skimmed through the pages until he finally reached the illustrations he was searching for. When he found them he was quick to tear them out and hand them to you "You're very talented." you muttered under your breath as you examined the pictures, but it still reached the man's ears "thank you, though I have to say, I prefer drawing other things..." he paused for a moment "scenes that are less brutal and capture the beauty of the world and its people." The answer you received made a small grin grace your lips "It's good to see that there are still optimistic people like you out in this world. Maybe next time we meet you could show me some more of your work." You nodded your head slightly in thanks for the pictures and as a way to bid him goodbye, as you rose from your seat on the bench "Good day, Mr. Mo- John." you quickly corrected yourself before turning around to make your way back to the office. However, John's voice caused you to stop and turn on your heels "(Y/n)! I could show you more of the drawings. How about dinner this Friday at Delmonico's?"

The question had caught you completely off guard, you had not expected to be met with...well, what even was this proposal of his? A flirt attempt maybe? Heat crept up your neck and wandered further to your cheeks "I- umm...all due respect Mr.- John, I don't think that is such a good idea. I'm afraid you aren't quite-" Your rambling was promptly cut off by John "Oh dear god. That is not what I meant" he chuckled, was he trying to talk himself out of a rejection with humor or was it really a misunderstanding? "Oh my, if it was a misunderstanding it would be so embarrassing." you thought "What I actually meant, was to invite you to join and meet a few of Sara and I's mutual friends. Besides I'll be a married man and a father to be soon" The tension in the air dissolved slightly, leaving you with a feeling of embarrassment and a slight stutter in your speech "Oh- I-I'm sorry. I completely misunderstood the meaning of what you proposed." "It's alright, now do you have time on Friday, my friend?" he chuckled, slightly easing your embarrassment a little. In response you just nodded your head again and gave him a smile "I'd like that, thank you. Goodbye again, John" You heard Mr. Moore wishing you a good day in return as you began walking away, trying to clear your head from the awkward encounter and clasping the sheets of paper in your hand, you made your way back to the agency.

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The days leading up to Friday passed more quickly than you would have liked, but there was nothing you could do about it really.

Soon, you found yourself in front of your mirror as you touched up your hair a bit. Just when you were done getting ready you heard a knock on your front door, it was probably John, seeing as it was already getting close to 7 pm. You had received a letter from him the day after he invited you to dinner, informing you that he would pick you up at your home at 7 pm to accompany you on the way to the restaurant you were going to.

Finding your reflection once more, you brushed your hands over the elegant fabric of the dress you were clad in, in order to straighten it out a bit before examining yourself again. With a nervous exhale you cast your gaze away from the mirror and towards the door, your feet quickly following your eyes as your hand reached for the keys in the lock. With a quiet clinking noise, that could be heard on the other side of it, you unlocked the door and took a deep breath, hoping the awkwardness from your last meeting had subsided by now. As you opened it you were met with the face of John Moore, flashing him a polite smile as you exchanged greetings. "I hope it won't come as a problem to you if you meet one of my good friends even before we reach the restaurant" You raised a questioning eyebrow at the man before you "He has offered to take us to the restaurant in his carriage instead of having us walk by foot or paying for one" John explained. His explanation made your eyes widen in surprise. His carriage?! That person you were going to meet had his own carriage?! You gave a nod to John, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious about your dress. Was it elegant enough for this occasion? You hoped so. "That is very kind of your friend" you said as you stepped out of the comfort of your cozy home and onto the streets of New York. You made sure you carried everything you would need with you before you locked the door to the house. "I need to warn you though, Laszlo can often times be a little..." John paused, thinking about how to describe the alienist as you turned around to look at him "...eccentric" Once again, you cocked your eyebrow and just as you were about to speak up again, you found your eyes wandering to a carriage that promptly came to a halt right in front of you. In anticipation of meeting John's friend, you watched as the door to the carriage opened and mere seconds later a cane emerged, followed by the well dressed man it belonged to. He smiled as he approached the two of you so he could greet you both, but ended up getting pulled into a hug by John in the process. When he finally got to you he shook your hand, you couldn't help but notice how gentle and light his grip was compared to those of other men, you made eye contact with the stranger as he introduced himself "I'm doctor Kreizler, but seeing as you're a friend of John you may call me Laszlo" His hazel eyes were captivating and his voice smooth, you noticed a bit of an accent "And you are, miss?" Laszlo asked, pulling you back from your trance an amused smirk on his lips. Oh god. Had you been staring? "(L/n). (Y/n) (L/n)" you rushed out. "It's nice to meet you Miss (L/n)." You smiled softly at him "Likewise...oh and (Y/n) is fine, no need for the formalities." The doctor returned your smile and for a moment you just looked at one another, none of you able to break the eye contact, it was as if you were enchanted, enthralled by those dark eyes of his and for Laszlo the feeling was mutual.

Well, until John broke the trance that is "Well then, shall we get on with our trip to dinner?" Your face grew warm as you finally snapped out of it and realized what you had been doing. A sheepish smile still graced your lips when you entered the carriage and it stayed until you arrived at the restaurant. You watched Laszlo and John make conversation in the carriage, they truly seemed to be good friends. "Laszlo, how was Europe? You only came back home a couple of days ago, right?" Now, that conversation topic peaked your interest, your eyes switched between the two men as you listened intently. "Yes, I only returned the day before yesterday. Vienna was beautiful, I could tell you many things about Freud, the people I met and the new studies I came across, but I doubt you are interested in all the information about psychology, John." John chuckled "Right you are" before he could say anything else the carriage came to a stop and the three of you got out in front of the restaurant.

It turned out that you were actually the first to arrive, the rest pooling in a couple of minutes later. The dinner was fun and interesting, you learned new things about everyone who was there and to your surprise, there came a point where you were flooded with compliments for the exceptional detective work you did. Needless to say, these compliments had you flustered. Laszlo seemed to notice your slight discomfort with all the attention on you, so he started talking in order to relieve you from that embarrassing feeling. You flashed him a grateful smile and mouthed "thanks", to which he just smiled and gave you a nod in reply.

The rest of the dinner went smooth and you learned many new things about the doctor and of course about his most recent research and travels. One could say you got along with one another quite well, he was a bit different from other men, more straightforward and very curious about everything, but you wouldn't say one needs a warning before meeting him, like the one John gave you. The evening went by rather quickly and before you knew it you were back in the carriage, sitting opposite of Dr. Kreizler. John however, wasn't there with you now, it seemed he had a bit of a misunderstanding with the alienist and favoured walking home on foot. He was an adult who could make his own decisions and if he preferred walking home then so be it.

The ride in the carriage was nice, you never ran out of conversation topics and at some point you came to the realizisation that you quite enjoyed Laszlo's company.

In the days pursuing the dinner, you often caught yourself thinking about him, wondering if and when you'd meet the doctor again, and every time you did, a smile made it's way onto your lips.

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The following weeks seemed quite boring, until a new case rolled in that is. You had looked over the paperwork and the crime scenes of the case and did your best to put yourself into the criminal's shoes. In order to find them you needed to find a motive as to why someone would commit such horrid deeds. After days on end of trying to solve this mystery you finally found something. A break in the case maybe. As soon as you realized what you had just discovered, you jumped up from your chair and practically sprinted to Sara's office, in your excitement it seemed that you completely forgot all your manners. You knocked on the door, but before you even got a reply from the other side, you had opened it "Sara! I just found something! We got a break in the-" and that was when you saw him again. Laszlo Kreizler.

Sara's and his eyes were both trained on you, causing your excitement about the progress in the case to subside as you flashed them a sheepish smile "Apologies. I-I should have waited I'm terribly sorry." Laszlo smiled at you "Good day to you too (Y/n)" His greeting caused heat to rise to your cheeks. You even forgot to greet him.

After a few moments of silence the doctor spoke up once more "Please do continue, Miss Howard was just filling me in on the case anyways and it seems like you just made progress in solving it. I would like to know everything you found out as of right now"

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The case had brought the two of you closer together. A lot closer actually.

You found yourself in front of your mirror once again, this time wearing the prettiest dress in your posession. You smiled at your reflection when you heard a knock at the door, only this time it wasn't your friend John who had knocked to bring you to dinner with friends. No. This time it was Laszlo Kreizler who stood on the other side of the door and instead of just dinner he would take you to the opera and to dinner later, then he'd bring you back home, well at least that was the plan.

When you opened the door to your home you were met with the man you had been thinking about nonstop. You smiled at him as your (e/c) eyes met his hazel ones and once again the man had you starstruck. The eye contact was intense and it reminded you of the time you first met him. "Good evening (Y/n)." hearing your name fall from his lips made you feel all giddy and happy "Good evening to you too Laszlo."

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You struggled to focus on what you were supposed to be doing the whole evening.

You did enjoy visiting the opera, but with Laszlo being there it felt like the spotlight was shining solely on him. Instead of watching what was happening you put your focus on him, watching his eyes light up and the excitement clearly visible on his face was much more interesting than the opera, well at least in your opinion. Whenever Laszlo would glance at you he had this smirk adorning his lips, he probably knew you were staring, seeing as you most likely weren't as subtle about it as you wanted to be. You smiled softly at him before shifting your focus back to the opera, in these moments you felt his eyes on you too.

During dinner you spent more time looking at him than at the menu, so when the waiter asked for your orders you just went with what he had chosen. That earned you an amused smirk and a raised eyebrow. Oh he was definitely aware of how smitten you were with him, he had to be. The whole evening you felt nervous and full of joy. What you didn't know was that Laszlo was just as nervous as you were, the difference was that he just knew how to hide it better than you did.

Only when dessert arrived did you notice him getting more nervous, a slight blush was visible on his cheeks. It certainly was a sight to see the normally so composed doctor become flustered, an adorable sight that only had you falling harder for the man. As soon as he spoke up though, it was your turn to get flustered. "(Y/n). We have known each other for quite a while now and..." he stumbled upon his words a bit and that just had the anticipation you felt, about what he was going to say, growing with every second "I sincerely apologize if I misinterpreted anything, but I noticed that... well, I know that I have taken a strong liking towards you and from what I picked up on, this liking seems to be mutual" his confession caused you to choke on your food and you tried to hold back a coughing fit, instead of giving in to the cough you took a sip of your drink as to soothe your throat and tried to calm your breathing. You also tried to calm your now very rapid heartbeat, but failed miserable at that. Laszlo's eyes widened slightly and a hint of sadness and regret seeped into his features "I'm terribly sorry, it seems I misinterpreted your feelings. It would have been a miracle if someone like you had reciprocated my feelings like that" He was about to stand up and grab his walking stick, but you immediately shook your head and gripped the cane first, in order to keep him from leaving "Laszlo, you didn't misinterpret anything" you felt the heat travelling through your body as your nerves and hartbeat were as strong as ever. The alienist was shocked to hear your response. He looked at you expectantly, waiting patiently for you to continue as he felt his own heart beating in his throat. You swallowed taking all your courage together to speak up again. "I was simply surprised to-to hear you say these things, I'm not surprised you picked up on my feelings for you" you chuckled awkwardly "I just didn't expect you to feel the same way and to adress it like that." Laszlo let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and brought the hand that had been reaching out for the cane back to the table. You copied that last movement also letting go of his cane. However, as soon as your hand was back at the table he reached his good hand out to hold yours, a grin on his lips "May I propose a courtship then?" Your eyes went wide as you beamed back at him "Yes!- I mean...yes, I'd like that very much" Your answer earned you a chuckle from the good doctor.

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"I'll have to thank John for introducing us"

Taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives (you asked to be added to this even though you don't even like or know him, I'm just reminding you it's not my fault that you're tagged here), @stanknotstark @ateez-star @littlemissnoname13 @gwlvr @handmaiden-of-mischief

[itsclydebitches]

Hey Clyde! I'm not sure if you've been asked this before but why do you think the writers chose to have Cinder... cry? One one hand, I thought that scene was supposed to be a breaking point but on the other (and looking at the following episodes), did she cry to guilt Watts into helping her? I was already a little confused with that choice before but now I'm even more so.

Hey there, anon!

Yeah, it’s a messy scene, more because of what happens after it than because of the scene itself. No, I personally don’t think this was a calculated move to get Watts to help her. We could delve into whether Cinder is currently the kind of character to pull off a manipulation like that  — I’d say not  — but the main takeaway is that she doesn’t need to do that. Watts is ready and willing to get back to work, together. 

Well, the others may or may not be dead, but Salem will definitely be back and until she returns we need to figure out what to do. Cinder has no motivation for convincing Watts to work with her because Watts is already willing. It’s only when she starts suggesting more idiotic, ill-thought out “plans” that he tells her precisely why she’s failed in the past, but even post-death threat he doesn’t express any reluctance about working with her. Watts doesn’t say a thing between getting dropped back on the roof and Cinder shedding that tear.  

We admittedly do get some kind of emotion from Watts after he’s brought back onto the roof, but I read that more as a, “Holy shit I nearly died” reaction and not a “Oh no I’ve hurt Cinder’s feelings” one. If he was at all moved by her crying, he doesn’t show it. Watts doesn’t care. He said what he said and he stands by it. 

Rather, I lean more towards that first reading: “I thought that scene was supposed to be a breaking point.” Other critics were right to point out that Watts’ general accusations of her never having a plan/working with others are ridiculous —  we watched whole seasons of Cinder weaving intricate (by RWBY’s standards) plans with the White Fang and Roman —  but he’s right that she’s a mess now. Between throwing herself at Raven and then throwing herself at Penny, her “plan” of “Just be more powerful and win” is garbage. It’s not enough to be strong, you have to be smart too, and for the first time since Volume 3, Cinder seems to get that. This is also the volume where we get her backstory, a flashback to a time when she was powerless, and if we’re seeing those memories now, it stands to reason it’s because Cinder is thinking about them now. That was her past and, wouldn’t you know, it looks a lot like her present. She’s tortured by Salem, failing to seize the power she wants, and now Watts lays it all out in one neat, vicious package. He’s right. I’m a failure. Cue collapsing on the roof and having that dam break a bit in the form of a single tear. 

I, personally, was really intrigued by this development, simply because Cinder lacks development. The concept of her re-acquiring the patience and intellect she had in earlier volumes after regressing was a good one. Here’s a woman who craves power, finally achieved some (Amber’s Maiden powers), and in doing so expected everything else in her life to fall into place. When it didn’t  — when she was still losing fights and remained under Salem’s thumb  — she devolved into an impatient, crazed villain, creating a cycle where she was bound to continue losing so long as she acted this way. Watts’ accusations finally snap her out of that, with the added bonus of this “friendship is power” theme. RWBY strongly pushes that only those who work together can hope to succeed (Salem wants to divide, the Ace Ops supposedly couldn’t work as a team well enough to beat Team RWBY, etc.) and now here was Cinder re-learning how to rely on her allies. No more trying to shake Emerald when she wants to help attack Penny, no more ignoring Watts’ “we need a plan” to run off after the powers on her own, Cinder is finally ready to play smart again and that’s achieved largely though having a team she can also rely on, just like she did back in Volumes 1-3. That time when she won. If Team RWBY wins because they support and love one another, what’s going to happen if the villains start, well, not loving one another, but becoming evil friends? Why, they should become quite the force to reckoned with! And that’s presumably what we saw in Atlas’ HQs: Neo, Cinder, and Watts enjoying being evil together. They’re trading compliments, Neo is skipping through dead bodies... the villains that work together win together. 

The problem is... absolutely nothing comes of this. Cinder doesn’t actually get smarter, everyone else just gets dumber. This entire plan hinges on snagging the Relic and the Relic, in turn, hinges on Neo. Does Cinder do anything to trick or convince Neo that she’s truly reliable this time? No, Neo just goes stupid and hands over the Relic. Again. So Jinn gives Cinder all the information she needs and after things actually go well via teamwork  — Cinder distracts Team RWBY while Neo sneaks up  — she destroys that advantage by kicking Neo off the edge and burning Watts. Cinder’s success doesn’t even last a whole episode. Sure, she gets away with the Relics, but what she actually wanted, the Maiden power, is lost to her because it ended up being a 3v1 battle. If only Neo was around to fight Weiss while Cinder went after Penny! Funny how you self-sabotaged yourself. Again. 

This scene, like so much in RWBY, is fine on its own, but falls apart as the story progresses. Cinder’s revelation didn’t actually change her character, so fans are right to ask, “What was the point?” Well, the answer is that the point was lost, what the scene set up was quickly dropped, but the other way to approach this is to assume there must be a different point to the scene. Enter the “Cinder is sympathetic” reading. I’m not going to deny that this exists regardless of what else we might take away from the moment  — it’s hard to have any villain cry on screen and not question how much we’re supposed to feel for them. That’s something I’ve criticized regarding Raven  — but some fans have come to the conclusion that this is the scene’s only purpose. Which, when the story drops the other purpose, makes a certain amount of sense. This volume we watched Hazel suddenly sacrifice himself for the boy he was torturing, Emerald get buddy with the girl she was just trying to murder, and Ironwood go full, evil spotlight villain. Volume 8 made HUGE missteps when it came to flipping the moral divide, with the villains suddenly meant to be friends and the friends (including the Ace Ops) meant to be villains. It’s understandable that fans would wonder if Cinder is meant to be a part of that flip. Did you include her crying solely to try and convince me she’s not that bad? At least, not as bad as the evil Ironwood? And many fans are, rightly, upset about this attempt to pull on their heartstrings. Regardless of what else that scene might have been attempting to do  — whether this really was setup for Cinder’s development that the show failed to follow through on  — we can’t ignore the inherent problems in spending this much time (crying + backstory) making an unambiguous villain look all woobie, while simultaneously avoiding that work in the previously morally gray/heroic characters. Which isn’t to say you shouldn’t have sympathetic villains, that you shouldn’t introduce that nuance, but rather that RWBY is developing an awful habit of putting that work towards the wrong characters. Everything in a story is interconnected, so it’s frustrating to watch Cinder cry and go, “Wait, am I supposed to feel bad for her when she is, essentially, crying over her failure to kill the heroes?” while simultaneously watching a show that, when a former hero was maimed, betrayed, and facing an impossible decision went, “Nah. You shouldn’t feel bad for this asshole at all. He’s evil.” Which is it, RWBY? Why am I encouraged to feel for the Definitely Bad characters, but discouraged from feeling for the Morally Ambiguous ones? There’s a disconnect here which encourages fans to approach the scene with a less than charitable eye. Cinder’s scene appears to be doing at least two different things, both as a means of developing her character, but between what happens later in the volume and how other characters are handled in comparison to her, both attempts fall flat. 

[june-louise]

A rarity of a moment

Fan fiction about Elizabeth and Philip from The Crown (set sometime after 1x06), just because I ship them and felt the urge to write a little something for the first time in years. 

....

Elizabeth gave a small sigh as she picked up the speech she was supposed to give in a few hours. She hoped the changes she instructed had been added to the notes and as she read through the appropriate and well induced sentences about the opening of the children’s centre in Nottingham, she smiled to herself as she discovered that this time the speech actually felt quite good. Perhaps it had something to do with the passionate and driven men and women who has initiated this important installation, she pondered as her eyes flickered through the speech. Her fingers played with the pearls around her neck as she memorised the words best she could even though her eyes were quite tired after hours of paperwork already. The last couple of months had been a whirlwind of work and there had been little time to reflect on the life-changing turn her whole life had taken when becoming the Queen of England. One day at a time, tackling one task at a time had been made her epigraph.

A knock on the wooden door disturbed her focus and Michael apologetically joined her temporary office. “Sorry to disturb, your Majesty.”

Elizabeth briefly looked up. “What is it, Michael?”

Her private secretary uncomfortably cleared his throat. “It’s the Duke, ma’am.” His words made Elizabeth abandon the speech and lift her gaze to the man approaching her desk.  “Apparently his Royal Highness and Mr Avison Parker has been in a small car accident. No major injuries reportedly, but-” he paused and nervously studied her reaction. Elizabeth lifted her eyebrow, her lips tight as she gave him her full concentration, the icy blue in her eyes giving way to no emotion. She had become some expert of concealing her true feelings. Michael continued, “caution has been made and they are both with the doctor. It seems as if Mr Avison Parker has injured his arm and ribcage, while His Royal Highness luckily escaped any injuries. Unfortunately, the press has taken notice, but we are working on it, ma’am, so it will hopefully not make it into tomorrow’s papers.”

Elizabeth tightened her jaw. “I see,” she began and stood from the chair by the desk, straightening her skirt before walking toward the window. Rain smattered against the glass, the wind strong outside.

“We have arranged for a phone call, ma’am.” Michael gestured to the phone placed next to the abandoned notes on the desk.

Elizabeth felt her arms tighten, taking a deep breath as she contained her emotions. “Yes, of course.” She walked up to the desk yet again and paused when reaching for the phone. “Thank you, Michael.” The man gave a nod before leaving the room, carefully closing the doors behind him, off to make sure the issue was being handled properly.

She took a deep breath before lifting the phone to her ear. “Yes,” she said with the voice of a true aristocrat.

“Elizabeth,” her husband carefully started on the other end of the phone, his voice sounding quite small. “I am sorry. I am fine.”

“So I hear.”

“We were just driving, and some idiot had placed a bicycle in the middle of the road. Mike made sure I was protected and pretty much took the whole hit himself, poor boy.”

She let him talk for a few more moments, his excuses not moving her in the slightest. “Elizabeth?” Philip tried after a while when noticing that she had yet to say another word. “You still there?”

“Had you been drinking,” she suddenly blurted out, voice annoyed and accusing. When there was no immediate respond, she continued. “Of course you had. What were you thinking? Have you any idea to what extent this could cause a scandal,” she spat, her voice harsh and menacing. “They already hate us and are just waiting for us to make a mistake. We cannot afford to make mistakes, Philip.”

“I know,” he got out before she continued, interrupting his apologies, once again letting him know that she was Queen and he was not.

“You really should know better. Do you even think about your children and what your reckless behaviour could lead to, them not growing up with a father.” She knew she was crossing a line and was acting quite mean, but she could not stop herself, the anger consuming her entire being. Did he not understand what pressure she already was under, what scrutiny their lives were doomed to hold? She refused to let him or anyone else, let alone Mike, jeopardize the monarchy or their family like this.  

Philip took his opportunity to interrupt when she paused to breathe, letting her know his hurt feelings. “I told you I was sorry. And quite frankly, I was hoping you at least be happy I was not hurt. But guess I was hoping for too much from my wife.”  He spoke the last word with an irritated and hurt spat and continued. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I shall speak to the doctor. See you when you get home.”

Before she could reply he had ended their call and Elizabeth was left standing with the silent phone held to her ear. She felt a sting of hurt but quickly brushed it off, composing herself and putting the phone down while returning to her seat by the desk and the speech. She was queen after all, and composure was her expertise.

 ….

 While the rain smattered onto the umbrella being held over her head, Elizabeth curled her lips into a content smile as she welcomed the applause from the crowd in front of her. As true Englishmen, no one seemed too bothered by the weather as they clapped while the rainfall caused their coats and hats to turn into a darker shade of grey and black. It was in these moments she felt proud of her country and seeing all these people gathered, not only to meet and listen to her, but to celebrate the hard work of this fine children’s centre the whole community had helped create in a common belief and hope of the future.

Making her way down the stage, ushered through the crowd stopping every once in a while to shake hands and be introduced to left and right, thanked and cheered she kept her head high and her smile as bright as she could. These people deserved it, they deserved to be seen by their sovereign.

“Thank you for coming, your Majesty,” they said with a bow or a curtsey.

As she made her way closer to the awaiting car, Elizabeth’s eyes caught onto a blonde woman who seemed to be her own age. She approached the woman who gave her a kind smile.

“Hello,” Elizabeth said in her most charming voice.

The blonde woman made curtsey respectfully before speaking, her voice revealing a gentleness which made the queen soften. “It’s an honour to meet you, your Majesty.”

“Likewise,” Elizabeth smiled, with a hint of uncomfortableness as she shook the woman’s dainty hand.

“If I may, ma’am,” the blonde carefully started with obvious shyness yet determination. “I would like to tell you that I have always admired you so. We are the same age, you see, and I married my husband the same year as your Royal wedding. I was so proud to be his wife.” The woman beamed, and Elizabeth could not help but reciprocate the gesture.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth replied, and not sure what to say but wanting to give the kind woman something, she continued. “Congratulations then on your 6th anniversary this year.”

The woman’s hazel eyes saddened for a moment but then lit up again while she spoke. “Sadly, I lost my husband a year ago. But I am always reminded of him, and all our happy times, whenever I see you, your Majesty, and your husband. Thank you for reminding me of him, and for giving us all such joy.”

For a quick moment Elizabeth let an insecure and vulnerable look escape her strong façade, and she gave a sad smile. “I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be, ma’am. We had good years, and we have a little boy who looks just like his father.” There was something angelic over the woman’s face and Elizabeth envied her joy, at the same time as she pitied her painful loss.

Taking her hand into her gloved one yet again, Elizabeth gave it a light press before letting go and being ushered into the car. As the car drove away, she made one last wave to the people, and watched the blonde woman through the back window. It was rare that she met with strangers like this anymore, she thought and pondered about the small conversation she had just had.  

….

An hour later Elizabeth was all dressed up in a sapphire dress, as she joined a dinner held at the city hall. She tried her best to keep her appearance, as she always must, but felt her thoughts more than once drift back to the woman she had met and the words she had spoken about her husband. Elizabeth felt a sting of guilt for having her husband safe and sound, while this obviously wonderful woman had lost hers. Yet the woman had had such a grateful and positive way of being, while Elizabeth acted cold and dismissive toward her husband.

She and Philip for sure had had their problems since her entering the throne, but lately it all seemed to have become worse. They barely saw each other, and when they did it was often during formalities or in argument over something. She could not remember the last time they had shared an evening together, or even yet shared bed. It was all so complicated, living a married life in Buckingham palace.

She made a deep sigh of relief as the dinner finally ended and localised Michael where he stood by the corner of the ballroom. “I want to go home, Michael. Please arrange for me to go home as soon as possible.” Her words came as a bit of a surprise to her, the spontaneity to have made such a drastic decision before she even had come to understand why she felt such an urge to return home at this late hour being somewhat unusual.

Michael, if feeling the same surprise, hid it well and simply nodded and made his way to make the arrangements while the queen paid the respects and thanked everyone for the warm welcome and the wonderful dinner, ever the daunting queen.

….

The familiar smell of portraits and perfectly polished carpets filled her nose as she climbed the stairs to her private quarters. She had dismissed her maid, making sure everyone leave her and Philip alone for the night.

Closing the dark wooden doors behind her, she let out a shaky breath and stepped out of her shoes as to not make any noise to wake Philip who was asleep since a few hours already. The clock on the wall let her know it was a good few hours past midnight. Philip’s door to their adjoining hall was open and she quietly stepped into his bedroom. It was embedded in darkness except from the moon sweeping a dim light through the window curtains.

Philip was sound asleep she heard, his soft breathing being the only noise filling the room. He had never been a snorer, even after nights out drinking, and she was reminded of how long it had been since she has listened to him sleep. She carefully stepped closer to his bed, cautious not to make the old wooden floor creak.

It was not like her to give into this urge to see him, lately she did not even know if she had felt this urge. Yet now it was there. Something about the woman losing her husband and speaking of their happy years, reminded her of her own affection to Philip. An affection which was always there, even though she had not let it bother her lately. Now though, it felt as if it consumed her.

Philip, her Philip, in his navy blue pyjamas never looked more sweet. The way he was so still and quiet reminded her of happier times. Of years lost to duty and sacrifice.  

She felt her throat thicken, swallowed and as not to wake him up she quietly made her way back to her own bedroom.

Undressing from the dress she had insisted to keep on in order to save time, she got rid of her stockings and undergarments. She lifted the white nightgown over her head and removed the jewellery, wanting to get rid of all the things Elizabeth the queen had to wear.

She made her way to her dressing table to remove her makeup. While moving her fingers over her face in the well-practiced routine, her eyes are caught on the one jewel that she had kept on, glimmering in the mirror. Her engagement ring. She never takes it off, even after all these years and even after all the fights. It is her most beloved possession. It represents who she was when she was someone to fall in love with, to choose this life with despite all of the sacrifices. She needs to remind herself of that girl, Lilibet, because sometimes she seems so far away these days.

As she sees a glimpse of that girl in the mirror, hot tears form in her eyes, and she closes them shut while gently tugging at the ring on her finger. A single tear find itself down the alabaster skin of her cheek. The words from before tug at her heart. “I married my husband the same year as your Royal wedding. I was so proud to be his wife.”

An urge to go to her husband fill her entire body and she rises, wiping her tear and dabbing at her eyes before abandoning her room to again open the adjoining doors. She pushes her pride aside and open the doors to Philip’s room for the second time that night.

Greeted by darkness, she must wait for a few moments before her eyes get used to the surroundings and she can see the form of her husband on the bed. She can hear his soft breathing and walks close, stepping out of her slippers and carefully sit on the bed, bringing her legs up under her. Philip does not move so she gently lift her hand to brush against his where is rests on top of the covers. She has always adored his strong body and been a victim under his touch. As her fingers dance over his hand, up over his arm and back again, Philip moves and rolls onto his side, burying his head deeper into the pillow. He looks so innocent when he sleeps, she thinks and tries to remember the last time she studied him like this. She cannot remember. She has missed it. To be near him like this. They seldom sleep in the same bed anymore. Most nights she does not think much about it, but every once in a while, when she goes to bed without him, when he is god knows where out with Mike, a sadness lingers over her. She does miss her husband, and the days where they would share bed every night.  

“I am always reminded of him, and all our happy times, whenever I see you, your Majesty, and your husband.”

The thought of losing the man sound asleep beside her, makes her heart ache. Not only the accident which could have been far worse, but the fact that her position as queen has sent Philip away from her to a place where he is happier without her causes the wetness to return to her eyes. Lifting the covers, Elizabeth carefully slips underneath, and curls close to the only person in the world her heart belongs to and has ever belonged to. Her forehead rest against his and she clings her hand to his, bringing it to her lips and pressing a tender kiss against the soft skin. The action causes Philip to stir and as he wakens, he opens his eyes, confused at first.

“Elizabeth,” he murmurs in question and blinks the sleep from his eyes. Blue eyes meet each other there in the bedroom, for the first time in very long. “Why aren’t you in Nottingham?”

She swallows and shifts on the bed, her gaze falling on his entangled hand in hers. She watches his fingers intertwine with hers and feel him shift slightly so that his other arm moves around her body, gently pulling her against him so that he lays on his back and she is rolled against him on her side. Feeling her throat thicken again and the hotness burn behind her eyes, Elizabeth cannot make a sound in fear of bursting into tears. “I’m sorry,” she finally mouths in a whisper and release a shaky breath while lifting her gaze to meet his.

She is met by a rare gentleness in his eyes and she feels more vulnerable than she has felt in a long time. She cannot make herself say the words but hope her eyes can signal her apology. Philip, too, is a proud man and their communication is seldom made with many words. Yet she feels as if she should say something, anything, to make him understand the way she feels. Her lip suddenly quivers, and she curses her inability to control her emotions. “I miss you,” she releases and gives into the sob that bangs at her chest for release. Her vision gets blurry and she finds herself embraced into the warmth and comfort of her Philip, strong arms wrapping around her and soft lips pressing a kiss to her head as she rests her face into the crook of his neck. She is filled with his scent and with every shaky inhale it fills her up with a calmness and comfort she has not given herself permission to need lately.

“I miss you, too, my Lilibet,” Philip whispers into her hair.

[the-big-nope]

While I’m certainly nowhere near ready for the story of the Mighty Nein to come to an end, I am also a D&D nerd and there’s a new sourcebook coming out soon with a bunch of new subclasses in it. By the time Campaign 3 of Critical Role gets underway, that book will be published, leaving a wealth of new options for the cast members to choose from, so why not entertain myself by making barely justified predictions of what the cast is most likely to pick for their next characters! (Disclaimer: Some of the new subclasses have been confirmed and some haven’t, so for a few of these picks I’m just going off of what I think is going to be in the book).

Travis

Cleric (Tempest Domain): Travis has been playing lowkey EMT since campaign one, and Laura’s already confirmed that Travis almost went cleric for campaign two. Between Grog with his barb-boosted movement speed to get around the battlefield so he could shove healing potions into his squishier teammates, and Fjord multiclassing into paladin and lovingly tapping his friends with single hit points to get them back up, it would be delightful to see him fully jump in and embrace the classical healer role. Of course, this is Travis, so I don’t see him picking a cleric domain that doesn’t allow for at least some whoop-ass, and Tempest Domain brings plenty of it. You get proficiency with all armor and weapons, Divine Strike at level 8 for boosted melee damage, you can use a reaction to inflict lightning or thunder damage against any enemy within melee range that’s hit you. And if you climb up high enough in levels, you gain a flying speed equal to your walking one whenever you’re outdoors. Pretty nifty, and makes for a fitting subclass for a guy that’s voiced Thor on multiple occasions.

Blood Hunter (Order of the Lycan): I mean, come on. The only reason it isn’t number one is that it was already widely assumed this would be Travis’s pick for campaign two, and I wouldn’t put it past him to surprise us again. But still, we saw him get a taste in Liam’s one shot and he was clearly having the time of his life. Besides, we lost Molly far too early to really see the blood hunter’s potential come to life; it would be damn cool to see someone else take a crack at it, and Travis is enough of a D&D gambler to not shy away from the class’s riskier features.

Artificer (Armorer): Speaking of Marvel connections, if Travis doesn’t lean toward fantasy Thor, then fantasy Iron Man might catch his attention instead. Artificer is an official class now, and since it’ll be reprinted in TCoE by the time campaign 3 gets underway, it’ll be a lot more visible as an option. The Armorer sits in almost a perfect middle ground of what Travis has done before: tanky and a frontliner, but also still has spells and tricks to help the party. Plus, you get a badass suit of power armor out of it. What’s not to like?

Marisha

Bard (College of Creation): After Hazel Copperpot, we all saw the pure magic that was Marisha Ray playing a bard. I know she implied that Hazel was supposed to be her campaign two backup character, but I hope this doesn’t discourage her from making another one. There are quite a few bard subclasses, a number of which I could see her being drawn to (Lore, Glamour, maybe even Swords), but I really vibe with the idea of Creation. I can’t exactly say why; maybe the idea of the ‘dancing object’ feature in Marisha’s hands is very funny to me (remember Keyleth’s adorable “Be Our Guest” moment? That, but this time it’s a walking wardrobe beating the shit out of the enemy).

Paladin (Oath of Vengeance/Conquest): As of yet, no one on Critical Role has ever played a paladin from the start, only multiclassed later down the line. I think this would be a cool departure for Marisha. Both campaigns she’s played characters that were either suspicious or at least indifferent to faith and the gods. Paladins are typically associated with deities, but they’re not tied quite so closely to them as clerics are. It would be fascinating to see what she did with it. As for the subclass, I just think Marisha’s earned her turn on the Goth Character Carousel, and while I know Conquest paladin is very unlikely given its moral grayness by default which might cause undue conflict and that Vengeance is a much more likely and acceptable pick, I just think it would be a sexy character choice. 

Wizard (Bladesinger/Graviturgist): This is a much more pie-in-the-sky, wishful thinking pick on my end, but not impossible imo. Marisha has experience with heavy spellcasting already, so she probably wouldn’t shy away from a wizard, but like Travis I suspect she likes a bit of oomph to her characters, and probably wouldn’t play as support heavy as Caleb does. To that end, Bladesingers get a bit more survivability and some modicum of physical prowess alongside their spells, while Graviturgists are definitely on the more aggressive side of the spectrum for wizard subclasses, with unique dunamancy spells to boot. I’m not sure how restrictive Matt would be about Xhorhassian characters in the next campaign if it takes place on another continent, but hey, you never know. Plus, she picked one of Matt’s homebrew subclasses for the current campaign; it would be cute if it happened again.

Liam

Druid (Circle of the Shepherd): At some point before Critical Role comes to end (hopefully far in the future), I know Liam’s gonna play a druid, I can feel it in my bones. He's too big of a Kiki fan not to. However, while Circle of the Moon might feel obvious given the potential for homage and how much he likes turning into animals, I feel like he might regard it as getting too close to old territory (also, I don’t know if Circle of the Moon is like an exclusive thing to the Ashari tribes, and if it is that would be rather restrictive for building a backstory). If that’s the case, Circle of the Shepherd feels like the next best bet. It has some great support options via the totems you can put down, and rather than becoming badass animals, you instead just get really good at summoning a fuck ton of them. It’s like Frumpkin, but ten of him. And they’re bears. (Honorable mention: If Circle of the Moon would feel like treading old territory then I’m certain Circle of Wildfire would too, but I’d bet my dice collection it would at least be tempting). 

Cleric (Unity Domain): Listen. The pure sap potential that would be at Mr. O’Brien’s fingertips with this subclass is incredible. The domain all about strengthening and protecting the bonds between friends and loved ones?? The domain with the Channel Divinity that can spread damage taken by one creature across the party however the cleric chooses to distribute it to lessen the blow to the individual??? The domain that used to be called the Love Domain???? I’m practically gagging on the soft moments and unspoken devotion conveyed through spellcasting already.

Fighter (Rune Knight/Psi Knight): Liam has yet to play a tank in a long-term campaign, and while I’m more enamored with the potential of the above classes, it would be novel to see him play a character with an actually respectable amount of hit points. However, I feel like if he was gonna commit to a straight frontliner, he’d probably want something a little more unique than a Champion or Battle Master (especially since he’s played those already for one-shots). Rune Knight has some fun options and built-in flavor, and with Psi Knight you can basically be a Jedi. Not bad options at all if you ask me.

Taliesin

Warlock (Fiend): Yeah, it might be expected, or Percy might have been too close to warlock anyway to feel like there’s new ground to cover, but hear me out. Both Percy (who, let’s face it, was a warlock multiclass in all but the actual mechanics) and Fjord were the classic reluctants. They got in over their heads without really knowing what was going on, and once they did they wanted out, cutting ties with their patrons and getting clear with only the scars remaining. I want to see Taliesin commit to a warlock in a way I imagine only he could manage to pull off. How fun would that balancing act be, to have a character that has no intentions of breaking their pact, who’s here for the powers, and is willing to work that delicate balancing act between keeping what he’s got and not letting his contract holder get the better of him? Give it to meeeeee.

Sorcerer (Psionic Soul): Psionic Soul has a bit of that eldritch flavor that vibes with Taliesin so much, with the added interest of introducing a brand new feature to 5E, the Psi Die (with this subclass, using them can do things like letting a sorcerer learn a spell they don’t already know for a few hours, allow you to cast spells without needing verbal, somatic, or material components, and can give you telepathy). Taking both Percy and Molly into account, it seems Tal likes to lean into those unique additional mechanics, and while Psi Die aren’t as risk-heavy as Gunslinger or Bloodhunter, they do add a layer of variability and unpredictability that seems to match his style.

Rogue (Swashbuckler): We only got a little bit of time with Molly, and so missed out on the opportunity to see Tal play a more cavalier character this time around. If he feels like leaning away from spells next time and back toward martial, I think a high-charisma, high-swinging swashbuckler from Tal would be a delight to watch.

Laura

Barbarian (Path of the Ancestral Guardian): Laura deserves to hit things, okay? Yes, spellcasting is great and comes in clutch frequently and Jester’s amazing, but you can tell Laura misses doing fat stacks of damage to the enemy in a single round. I personally think it would be amazing to watch her just cut loose and go full rage machine. As for the subclass, I’m not glued to the idea, but Ancestral Guardians are pretty kickass, have decent support capabilities for a barb without detracting from their DPS at all, and it doesn’t tread on any previous characters’ toes or their aesthetics.

Rogue (Scout/Soulknife): Laura deserves to play her favorite class at last, okay? She’s been class poached two campaigns in a row, and though that resulted in both Vex and Jester and I wouldn’t trade them for the world, Laura has earned first pick. Seeing as she already dipped into Assassin as Vex and Sam took Arcane Trickster, I could see Scout being a viable subclass choice. It’s in the classic sneaky vein, relatively simple in concept, but comes with features that grant easy-to-understand benefits that you can never turn your nose up at (boosts to movement, advantage on initiative, giving advantage against a target to everyone else in the party, etc.). If she’s looking for something a bit flashier, Soulknife has the benefit of retroactively dunking on Vax by taking the basic knife-rogue and making it better, with psionic knives that you can manifest with a thought, that can teleport you around Whisper style, and cranking up that stealth to ridiculous levels by just being able to turn invisible for ten minutes, no concentration or spell needed. The psionic die mechanics are a little funky of course, but I don’t imagine it’s any trickier than learning to manage all those cleric spells.

Monk (Way of the Open Hand): Between Beau just being super cool and her brief stint as Farriwen Breeze, monk wouldn’t be a surprising pick from Laura. An Open Hand monk might be the definitive version everyone knows, but you can’t deny it’s a solid subclass, and between previous overlap and the concepts of the other subclasses just not seeming to fit, I could see the classic being what she went with. But hey, it’s Laura Bailey. She could surprise us with Way of the Drunken Master or something.

Sam

Ranger (Monster Slayer): Let’s be real, I don’t think this would be his actual first pick for a Campaign 3 character, but the amount of shit-stirring he could achieve by making a character with the aim of pissing off Laura Bailey specifically would be hilarious (and since Matt isn’t completely opposed to UA and acknowledges that PHB ranger has a lot of issues, I wouldn’t be surprised if they went Revised Ranger this time).

Warlock (Genie): Actual first pick here, Pact of the Genie Warlock is confirmed by now, and the potential of a warlock in the hands of Sam Riegel is pretty vast (for some reason I’m imagining he would go the ‘spoiled sugar baby’ route). The subclass doesn’t matter as much, but the Genie one is nice in that, depending on the type of genie patron you pick, you can get a wide variety of extra spells, you get a container like a classic lamp or lantern that you can bamf into for short rests, and you get a limited Wish ability for your capstone, all features I feel like would especially appeal to Sam.

Barbarian (Path of the Wild Soul): I want to see Sam play a fairy barbarian. ‘Nough said.

Ashley

Fighter (Eldritch/Echo Knight): Ashley really seems to vibe with the crushing power of martial classes (she does love her brutal kill descriptions), so I could see her sticking with it rather than going back to full caster. However, I do see her picking one of the magical subclasses for some variety after Yasha. Eldritch Knight is a classic and reasonably easy to manage, but tbh I’d LOVE for it to be Echo Knight. And think, if my wishful thinking came true, with Ashley picking an Echo Knight and Marisha playing a Graviturgist wizard, they could link up their backstories and be a traveling Kryn battle duo that left their homeland behind to explore the world!

Sorcerer (Draconic): If she does want to go back to full-time casting, Sorcerer doesn’t require near as much bookkeeping as a cleric, druid, or wizard while still having decent variety, and the Draconic subclass is a bit beefier than the other subclasses. Also, it would be the third campaign in a row where Ashley Johnson’s character eventually got wings, soooo...

And tbh I have no idea what a third pick might be for Ashley, so I’m just gonna throw a dart or two at the board and say either College of Whispers Bard or Way of Mercy Monk *Shrug* We can only wait and see!

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Empires on the Horizon XI

Jason is a CEO: Part XI

Here’s my masterlist for the next part and my other stuff

This chapter is hella long. Please enjoy!

everything flashes

so fast passed your eyes

you cannot quite make out

the difference

between

cameras, lightning, and

life.

-badpoetry

“Drew my darling,” Jason smiled through the phone, “I am beyond elated you’re getting married but how am I supposed to find a suit for your wedding if my favourite suit shop is closed?”

Her sweet laugh floated through his speaker, “Maybe we have a surprise for you Mr. Grace.”

“You didn’t?” He gasped, “Tell me you didn’t!”

A lyrical voice further away from the phone yelled, “Oh yes we did Jason Grace and you’re gonna accept it! You do so much for us it’s only right we get to pay you back.”

He knew when not to argue so he muttered a disbelieving thank you and hung up with the reassurance that the suit would arrive within the next day or two. He flopped down on the couch in his office and pulled his laptop towards him. An unfinished email flashed on his screen, but his mind was occupied with other things. Things that involved very unrelated work thoughts. Zoe had been at his place for a week and although they both usually craved their own spaces living with her had been bliss, and exciting, and delightful.

His phone vibrated from wherever he chucked it.

Zoe: Watcha doing?

Jason: I should be working.

Zoe: What do you mean should be?

Jason: Have certain morning activities reeling through my mind

*Zoe is calling*

He barked out a laugh, answering the call and stopped laughing at the words she whispered.

“HAZE!” He yelled, rushing out of the office, “I’m going home. I’ll see you at the wedding.”

“Okay Boss. Say hello to Zo for me.”

He was already in the elevator and wondering how seconds could feel like forever. He caught his reflection in the silvery walls and wanted to laugh. Cheeks pink with excitement and eyes glittering with mischief. He felt like a kid again, like living.

When he finally arrived at home Zoe was lying on the bed. He was about to jump on top of her and smother her in kisses, but he noticed her soft breathing and unusually still body. Tiptoeing around the room he smiled when he saw her face. Fast asleep. He pieced together that she must have taken her meds, since it was just after lunch. Brushing a kiss over her forehead he disappeared into the bathroom to change into sweats and then gently lowered himself next to her. If he was going to be here, he might as well do some work.

A surprisingly productive hour later he finally decided to screw the work thing and just have a nap alongside his girlfriend. Chucking his laptop aside he scooted down in the bed and wrapped an arm around her. She groaned softly, grabbing his fingers and then settled back down. He couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him, but his amusement was short lived.

“No dad,” Zoe mumbled, “Don’t make me ma– don’t make me do it. Please.”

“Zo?” He peered over her shoulder to see her eyes still shut.

“Dad, stop I don’t want to do this!” She was yelling now, scratching at his arm.

“ZO!” He tried.

“Please dad just let me– PLEASE!” Her cheeks were damp and the anguish in her voice made his heart race.

“Zoe, baby please!” He shook her shoulders. “Stella, ZOE!”

She got up with a gasp. Jason stumbled out of bed and raced to get water.

“Here,” He offered her the shaking cup.

“Th– thank you.”

“Were you having a nightmare?”

“Yea,” She winced, “They– they don’t happen very often but sometimes when I’m extremely emotional they bombard me.”

“Are you okay? Do you need something?”

“I’m good, I think.” She took a deep breath, “Just hold me for a little while?”

He simply held out his arms for her to crawl into them. When they settled into the bed again, his back against the headboard and her between his legs, he kissed her gently.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly, do you?”

“I just have one question and you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.”

A small nod was the only answer.

“What does your dad want you to do?”

Her sharp inhale made his chest tighten but he looked into her brown eyes.

“It’s a deal we made. Neither of us were willing to compromise on our plans so he struck a deal with me.���

“Okay.” He mumbled and then grazed his lips over her shoulder and let his head rest in the crook of her head.

“That’s it? No more questions?”

“I said I’d only ask one.”

“But you don’t want to know what the deal was?” He could hear the surprise in her voice.

“I want to know what you’re willing to tell me. We’ve only been dating for half a year. We have countless hours to learn each other’s secrets.”

“You are amazing in so many beautiful ways.” She sighed, pulling him towards her.

He laughed into their kiss and let the smile play at his lips for… everything after that. When they went to sleep that night, her lean frame tucked into him he thanked the stars blinking through the chiffon curtains. Thanked them for bringing her to him, for letting her light be the one that guides him, letting her spark be the one that ignites him, thanked them for letting her come down from her home in the cosmos to help him rise. And he’s almost certain the stars blink back in acknowledgment, just before sleep drags him under.

***

“You ready baby?” He called from his closet as he straightens his tie.

She echoed from the bathroom, “Yea I think so, let me just put on my earrings.”

“If we leave now, we should get there by quarter to,” He mumbled to himself.

“We’re not going to be late, worrier.” A voice teased him.

He turned around and stumbled back, falling on his ottoman with a thump.

“Wow.” He mumbled, “You look…” There were no words in any language to describe how she looked. He tried anyway, “You look godly.”

Her dress was silk the colour of burnt orange and the way it looked on her reminded him of sunsets. He was sure the greatest artists in history could never imagine something so beautiful. He was positive the word ethereal was invented in her honour.

“Amor meus amplior quam verba est.” He whispered; eyes still wide with adoration. He didn’t want to blink and risk losing her to the skies.

“What does that mean?” Her voice was equally soft.

“My love is more than words.”

She jumped into his arms and held him close enough that their hearts became one beat.

“Thank you.” She said into his collar, “And you look gorgeous.”

He pulled her back to stare at her, unable to look at anything else. “If we ever get married, please will you wear this colour to our reception.”

She smiled, and it was dazzling, “Let’s go my Thyella.”

So they did, and if you asked anyone who saw them, they would have told you that couple looked like royalty. Like the Queen and her King. Him, in a suit of the deepest blue, with the same burnt orange silk lining the lapels and cuffs of his jacket. And her, in her dress made of sunstones, eyes that rivalled the galaxy. The sky and its stars.

They arrived at the wedding venue sometime later, the garden already buzzing with activity.

“Hello Miss Arellano,” He hugged his lawyer.

“Jason! How are you?”

“Better than brownies.”

“That’s almost an impossibility.” Percy Jackson saddled up to the group with his usual mischief-maker’s smile.

“Zoe, darling.” The women embraced. “How are you feeling?”

“Less like I got stabbed which is nice.”

Percy snorted, “Glad to hear it Miss Nightshade. You really gave us a scare there.”

“Tell me about it.” Jason put a hand over his heart.

She shoved at his shoulder, “Where is the rest of this trouble-finder crew?”

“I see Haze and Frank now,” Reyna waved to a couple in the distance.

“And Leo and Annabeth should be here soon. Valdez had an emergency at the varsity. I do not know what constitutes as an emergency and I do not plan on asking.” He added.

Hazel’s golden smile graced them, “Hello you lot, you all look like you just stepped out of the pages of a magazine.”

“We are the hottest group, aren’t we?” His lawyer smirked.

“You can say that again!” Annabeth Chase laughed.

They all made small talk for a few minutes, making sure Zoe was okay and catching up on everything they had missed in the month since the club. A bell tinkled further down the garden and the guests started making their way to their seats.

“Guess it’s time to see the happy trio.” He smiled.

“How long have you known them?” Zoe asked as they sat down.

“Charlie I’ve known since college and ‘Lena and Drew since he’s introduced them. Which was about six years ago now?”

“Wow, long-time friends.”

“Spend enough 3am study sessions with people and you learn to bond for life.” He grinned.

The music started playing as their conversation gave way to anticipation and everyone turned to the aisle.

We can leave the Christmas lights up till January

This is our place we make the rules

And there’s a dazzling haze

A mysterious way about you dear

Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years

The gentle notes wafted through the rose scented air and clung to their skin, letting it be the glow that caught the light. The groom walked out. He looked beautiful. Dark skin golden under the sun and a smile to rival the full moon. He waved at everyone, as Charlie would do. Always a friend. When he got to the front, they all spotted the look of exhilaration in his brown eyes.

“They’re coming,” Zoe whispered.

And then two ladies walked slowly down the grassy path. Silena in a pale pink satin dress and a flower crown resting on her head and Drew in a matching lavender number, a small tiara perched on her black hair.

“Unbelievable.”

All Jason could do was nod as he watched his friends walk towards each other. Watched them burst with happiness right before his eyes. His mind flashed back to the early days when he and Charles used to sit in the library crying over stress and loneliness. Finding solace only in their own comforting words. And he couldn’t help but shed a few tears as the trio reached each other and began forever.

The ceremony was over before he could blink and there was a flurry of activity as everyone took pictures with the brides and groom. He managed to talk to them briefly, spreading congratulations and general joy.

“Jase,” Silena pulled him aside, “The suit looks wonderful.”

“Thank you, my friend,” He hugged her, long and hard. “And you, all of you, look stunning.”

“It’s been a long time coming,” Her smile was gentle, but the tears in her eyes held every emotion she couldn’t display.

“Is everything set up at the field?”

“Everything is perfect,” Charles winked, catching up to them.

“What did you plan, Dannasan?” Drew raised a perfect brow.

“Nothing that needs your worrying, o angelhos mou.”

Jason laughed as the newlyweds narrowed their eyes at each other. “I’ll see you guys at the reception.”

They thanked him once more and said their last goodbyes before shuffling off to the next round of pictures. He found the rest of his people standing near the car park, waiting for him.

Zoe’s face lit up as she spotted him, “You ready?”

“Yea,” He hugged her to him, “Want to head home first or?”

“Percy and Reyna were going to Reedpipes to chill till six, you want to go with them?”

“Everyone else?”

“We’re going back to the varsity because Leo still needs to sort out the lab.” Annabeth looked at him with an ‘I’ll explain later look’.

“And you Frank, Hazel?”

“We aren’t coming to the reception. I have to visit gran before Hazel and I head out tomorrow for our weekend trip.”

“Well alright then, guess we’re going to Reedpipes.”

The group dispersed with hugs and kisses and promises to meet up again soon. Zoe hugged them tightly, and his throat tightened at the comfortableness she had found in them.

Jason put a hand behind the front seat, checking behind him before reversing onto the road and making his way to their favourite café.

“That was such a beautiful wedding.” His girlfriend sighed.

“There’s just something about weddings isn’t there?” He hummed, “Makes you want to get down on one knee and propose?”

She laughed, winking at him, “Don’t get any ideas, you don’t know all my secrets remember.”

“Can’t imagine any of them stopping me.” He kissed her knuckles, adoration flowing like never-ending fountains.

Something passed over her face, pain or contemplation he didn’t know. And he was about to ask when she squeezed his thigh and smirked at him. All thoughts were forgotten.

They arrived at Reedpipes before Reyna and Percy and decided to head inside to grab a table. Zoe asked if they’d get weird looks for looking so dressed up in a coffee shop but laughed and said, “Welcome to the city!”

As always, his conversations with Grover Underwood left him reeling.

“Well don’t you look like royalty Grace.” The barista’s brown eyes sparkled, “And this must be the woman who keeps the sun in your soul.”

Zoe blushed and muttered a hello.

“Grover,” Amusement played across his features, “How are you?”

“Lovely thank you. What can I get you today?”

“Surprise me.” He shrugged.

Grover looked at him, eyes widening ever so slightly. “You’re letting me choose?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Mr Grace,” The man looked about ready to bowl over. “I feel you should introduce me to your lady friend immediately because in the eight years you’ve come here you have never ordered anything but a chai, americano, or a cappuccino, and now you want me to choose?”

He giggled at the surprise coating the air, “Grover this is Zoe Nightshade. She’s my girlfriend.”

“Ma’am,” Grover reaches over to shake her hand earnestly, “I have never seen him be anything but a creature of habit in all the years I’ve known him. Please marry him.”

Jason cut in, “Oh I plan to.”

His girlfriend laughed, short and mischievous, “Nice to meet you Grover.”

“What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have a black coffee and a toasted cheese sandwich please.”

They eventually found their way to a table, and just in time because almost as soon as they sat down Percy and Reyna walked in.

“Hello again, how absolutely gorgeous was that wedding?” Reyna sighed contentedly.

“So beautiful!”

“Gods Perc,” She turned to her boyfriend, “If we ever get married, I want that purple colour Drew was wearing to be the theme.”

“Can we do a blue as well?” Percy smiled at her softly.

“What kind of blue?”

“A blue like…” He looked around, eyebrows furrowing as he scanned the room. “Blue like…” He caught Jason’s eyes and trailed off. They stared at each other and something in his chest sparked. Percy blinked and the world came back into focus.

“Blue like the sky.”

“Yes!” She squealed, “Your colours Zo?”

“Jason wants me to wear this colour to the reception.” She motioned to her dress.

“Oh gods yes,” Reyna gave an approving nod, “That with white or cream would be so beautiful.”

Their coffees got set down and they spent the remainder of the time chatting casually, fully, happily. Jason felt like a summer breeze, like the soft winds dancing with the willow tree, like wonder. His life was so beautifully different from the one he had last year this time and he marvelled over the workings of the universe. How did he get so lucky?

The hours passed by in a gentle rush and soon they were all piling back into cars and heading to the field where the reception would be held. The field was one of great importance to him. When he discovered it some years ago, after a particularly bad fight with Luke, he had instantly fallen in love with it. There was something so grounding about the open air and the soft grass and the flowers that grew wild. He had stayed there for hours whenever he needed to be alone, when he needed to look up at the sky and remember no matter how much his life changes, he will always be able to look up a the same sun, moon and stars. He will be able to watch the trees grow and the flowers bloom and remember life is only as complicated as you make it. The day he found a “Development Site” board cutting off the entrance to the park he had panicked so hard he needed his inhaler for the first time in ten years. And then he had promptly called up the company demolishing the area and bought it from them at a disgustingly high price. Some things though were worth it. And what was the point of making money if he couldn’t use it to protect that which cannot protect itself. He named it the Fields of Prosperina and opened it to the public under the condition they would do no harm and leave nothing but footprints behind. He also had a team of people who helped maintain the small facilities and make sure nothing was getting destroyed. Under city regulations, officials had to come in twice a year, once in summer and once in winter, to make sure none of the native species were becoming endangered within the area.

They drove into the gravelled parking and he couldn’t help the gasp that escaped him. The space was like something from a fairy tale. Lanterns hung from trees casting a warm yellow glow over the world. Flowers weaved around every chair and over the fairy lights hanging above them. Zoe’s awe was audible as she trailed her hands over the tinkling charms at the entrance and the bright petals laid out on the table. He spotted the huge wooden structure with a screen and a projector attached to it. Gods Charlie, he thought, you really outdid yourself this time. It’s a dream.

The newlyweds came out to applauds and hollering and the party began. Speeches were sweet and tearful and full of jokes; and the dinner was sublime. He moaned with every bite of the chocolate brownie and didn’t feel weird because every single person at their table did the same thing. Finally it was time for the first dance and three glowing people walked into the cleared space, illuminated with the glimmer of moonlight and the soft flickering of the lanterns.

Ballerina girl You are so lovely With you standing there I'm so aware Of how much I care for you

The song washed over the crowd as the three came together, arms wrapped around waists, and started swaying softly. As one they moved across the floor, as one they laughed and cried, and put their heads together. As one they danced.

“Why this song?” Zoe’s voice was nothing but air against his skin.

“Drew and Silena were dancers in varsity. That’s how Charlie met them. He saw a show of theirs and fell in love.”

“Do they still dance?”

“Not that I know of, but I think they want to open a ballet school at some point.”

“They’re angelic.”

Ballerina girl You are so lovely I can see in you My dreams come true Don't you ever go away Ballerina Girl...

The song faded away and Drew grabbed the mic with a brilliant smile on her face, “LETS PARTY!”

The crowd got up with a loud cheer and poured onto the floor. He grabbed his girlfriend’s hand and they raced to the center, their friends not far behind. The night was young, and the colours were golden and time was nothing but a way to count how many times you can smile in a second.

Many songs and a break to grab some water later Charlie requested the music to stop for a little. “Hello everyone. Seeing your beautiful faces makes me extremely emotional and if I was wearing my eyeliner, I’d be cursing you all for making it smudge. Thank the gods my mascara is waterproof.”

They all laughed, and harder when his wives made a funny face beside him.

“Today may be the happiest day of my life but I know tomorrow will be even happier because I cannot imagine life being anything else with these two by my side for forever.” He kissed them both, love overflowing from his eyes.

“And to commemorate the joy and never-ending brightness they’ve brought into our lives I’ve compiled a little video with the help of you guys. Thank you for making this day so special. I know even when I am old and greying it will play in my mind like a dream. To mis corazones, I will always love you enough to keep the fire in your souls. This is for you.”

The video started with their smiling faces and as memory after memory reeled across the screen the tears flowed in abundance. Little messages from people popped up on as the pictures flashed. A video of Drew and Silena laughing at a picnic they all went on four years ago in this very field played on screen. The trio held each other tighter and whispered something that ended on a sob of gratefulness. Zoe wiped Jason’s cheeks, kissing him softly.

“Someday Zo,” He mumbled, leaning into her. The music started up again and he wrapped his arm around her waist as the video faded into the background, as everything faded away.

Fatal, this attraction, yeah we might just end up crashin' But I'm ready if it happens with you Meet me out in Cali when I'm far away from family And I need someone to hold onto

She hugged him tighter, the music seeping into their lungs. He could feel her heartbeat against his own, like twin drums, rapid, racing. He hummed along, let his lips skim over her skin. Life was faraway but the stars swayed under his hands and the night sky glittered with luxury.

We could burn and crash We could take a chance Holdin' nothin' back Like it's our last dance

Zoe clung to him like her life depended on it. Maybe it did. There was a flash of light and a faded thank you. The photographer was already on to the next couple, but they were immortalised in that memory card.

“Jase,” She whispered.

He pulled back slightly so he was staring into her, “What’s wrong my stella?”

“I-“ She breathed, “I have to tell you something.”

“Are you alright?” She looked so scared, sad. “Do you want to leave?”

“My dad came to visit me while I was in hospital.”

“Oh gods Zo,” He pulled her to him, “Are you okay? He didn’t say anything did he?”

“Our deal is up,” Her body was shaking with sobs, “I have to go home.”

“No!” His lungs collapsed, “No, what? No.”

“I asked for more time, but he said no.” Her eyes fractured.

“Why can’t you stay here why do you have to go? Is that the deal you made?” This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t real. He can’t do this.

“I was supposed to start a practice of my own,” She choked, “Something that would make him money. That was the only way I could move out of the house.”

“But can’t you just start one now? I’ll give you capital if that’s what you need? We can go get registered tomorrow.”

She shook her head vigorously, gasping on her words, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

“Stella,” He can’t feel his legs, “Please there has to be another. We have to find a way for you to stay.”

She shook her head, “I can’t stay because–“ Her cry shattered his fractured soul, “I can’t stay because I’m marrying someone else.”

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

I’M SORRY!

Tags (if you want to be added to/ taken off the tag list just let me know, all my channels of communication are open):

@lesbian-peanuts

@leydiangelo

@queen-of-demons-and-hell​

@msdrpreist

@sparkythunderstorm

@nishlicious-01

@lucyisblue

[martelldoran]

i have too grieved a heart (redux)

Fandom: HP Characters: Lily/Narcissa, Snape, James, Mary, Dorcas 

NSFW: no

Summary: After the incident at the lake, Lily realises that more than just her relationship with Severus Snape is doomed. She now must say goodbye to Narcissa.

Read on AO3

May 1976

Lily Evans was many things. She was a witch first and foremost, and currently – though not for very much longer – in her 5th year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She was a proud Gryffindor. She was muggleborn, the first witch in her family. She was a talented potion maker, often spending her free time down in the dungeons mixing her brews and revelling in the multicoloured fumes. She was a dab hand at her charm work and liked to summon little sparkling lights to brighten up her study spaces. She was a passionate friend. She was bright, loved nothing more than spending her afternoons listening to records in the sun, and adored being outdoors surrounded by nature. Yes, Lily Evans was many things.

But at that precise moment, on a sunny afternoon in May after having just sat her Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.L, she was absolutely fucking furious.

“Evans!”

It was the bellowing voice of James Potter. He had not stayed to try and remove Severus’s underpants as he had said, instead choosing to charge after her. Reaching the steps to the main door with her breath rushing and chest tight, she didn’t pause.

But then a hand closed around her wrist.

She wrenched herself away. Her wand was lifted and a spell teetered on the edge of her snarling lips as she spun round.

“Do not touch me!”

The boy staggered back onto the grass, hands lifted with the palms facing her. His mouth was a small ‘o’ shape and his hazel eyes were wide.

“Okay, I won’t.”

Her wand did not lower and neither did his hands. White knuckle fury still beat through her.

“I’m sorry, Evans. I went too far. I always go too far,” he said, his voice was tight, restrained as he measured each word. “Not that it’ll make a difference but I’ll apologise to Snape too, though I think I burned that bridge a long time ago.”

This last part he added as an afterthought, saying it more to himself than her. He shifted from foot to foot before slowly lowering his hands. The normally perfectly tousled black hair had fallen flat and was falling into his eyes but he didn’t try to fix it. Instead he continued looking right at her. It made him look like a little boy again.

“I am sorry. Truly. I hope you can see that, Lily. If not now, then later.”

He had said his piece. With a stiff, defeated nod of the head, he turned and made his way back to the lake. The fury had lessened somewhat. She watched his retreating back for just a moment before beginning her ascent up the stairs once again.

Half way across the Entrance Hall he made himself known to her, calling her name. Somehow having detangled himself from the clutches of Sirius Black, he must have skulked in a bush until he’d seen James leaving. Severus Snape’s normally pale, sallow face was flushed and his eyes darted around the hall, never resting on her face for long.

It was as if she was seeing him for the first time. And she was repulsed.

“Lily,” he began, taking a step towards her.

She retreated and raised her wand once more.

“Stay away from me,” she growled, in no mood to hear his excuses.

She knew what he’d say. She was a vengeful, wrathful god, ready to smite down those who had wronged her. She was Artemis condemning Actaeon to die by the jaws of his own dogs.

“Lily, please, I’m sorry,” he pleaded. He had his hands up like James but he took another step towards her. “I didn’t mean it. It just slipped out.”

“And is that supposed to make me feel better?” she snapped, wand trained on his face. “How many times have I heard you say you’re not like them, Mulciber and Avery? Then heard you defend them in the same breath? You agree with what’s being said, don’t you, by the one they call the ‘Dark Lord’. Maybe not all of it but there’s something in there isn’t there, that calls to you.”

Severus, inching forward, shook his head vigorously, lank hair dancing on either side of his face.

“No!” he wailed. “I don’t, I don’t think that, Lily. You’re my friend.”

She wavered. He was her oldest friend. He’d introduced her to magic, told her she was special, been there for every rant and every time her sister rejected her. Emboldened by her indecision, he took yet another step towards her.

A warning shower of red sparks streamed from her wand and crackled at the boy’s feet. He yelped and jumped away.

“I told you. Stay. Back. I don’t want you anywhere near me.” Her voice rose, ringing in the empty Entrance Hall. It was deserted, everybody had surrendered themselves to the sunshine. She hardened herself. “I see it now Severus, you’re one of them or if you’re not, you want to be. You and that fucking chip on your shoulder.”

She gave a humourless laugh, staring him dead in the eye. Her rage had not cooled but she was steady, held up by steel and smouldering fire.

“You’ve made it clear where your loyalties lie. And let me tell you now, if we come across one another out there” -- she gestured vaguely around the Entrance Hall – “I will not hesitate to cut you down.”

At this, he lurched forward, a cry on his lips. He tried to reach for her.

‘Petrificus Totalus!’

The spell screamed within her mind hit him square in the face, freezing the boy’s pained expression to stone. He tumbled to the floor, landing frozen on his side. She was Medusa victorious

“I warned you. Come near me again and I won’t be so lenient.” In that moment with fire coursing through her veins, she meant every word of her threat.

Turning on her heel, Lily tore up the staircase. All in a rush, she could feel the weight of everything that had just happened come crashing down around her. Hot tears bulged in her eyes and a golf ball sized lump in her throat threatened to choke her. A bathroom, a bathroom was what she needed, somewhere nobody would disturb her. Without thinking she turned her course to the girls’ toilet on the second floor.

Bursting through the door with a loud, resonating bang, a painful, heavy sob wracked her body. She stumbled towards the nearest stall and locked herself in. Animalistic wails tore from her mouth and echoed off the tiled walls. It was like her grief had manifested into a physical form and was joining her for a macabre duet.

Hugging herself, she crumpled to the floor. With her back to the door, she leaned her head back against the wood and let the grief she felt come in waves. How had it come to this? All she’d wanted to do was help her friend and now here she was.

Lily had been called a Mudblood before. More times than she truly cared to count. But never had she imagined, even in her wildest dreams, that she’d hear that word come from the mouth of someone she considered her friend, let alone said with such venom.

Tears slid in a continuous stream down her flushed cheeks. They hung off the end of her chin and pooled in the hollows of her neck and collarbones. Slowly, a damp patch grew down the front of her robes but she paid it no mind. Lily was a raw, gaping wound and nothing else mattered but her pain. Her mind was a jumble. The scene by the lake replayed in a hideous loop. Then it was the argument in the Entrance Hall. Severus’s pained expression was seared onto the back of her eyelids and her words echoed in her ears.

How long did she sit there sobbing? She cried and she cried and then, when it seemed like she had no more tears left, she cried once again. Time had no meaning in that cramped toilet stall. It could have been seconds, it could have been days, she didn’t care. Noone would come in here and disturb her anyway. They would hear her howls, assume it was Moaning Myrtle off in one of her moods and steer well clear.

Eventually, however, she stilled and the tears dried up. There was a certain calmness to her now. With a dull realisation, she was unsurprised about Severus. Some dark part of her already knew that he was lost. He wanted to be the best, he always had. And if following this man got him what he wanted then so be it. He would do it.

Ever since they were children, there had been this urge to prove himself and to rise above everyone else. It came out when they raced across fields and threw stones into a lake. It came out during exams and every time there was a potion or poison to be brewed. Glory would be his one way or another.

“Lily? Lily, are you in here?” Dorcas Meadowes’s husky, mellow voice cut across her reverie. She hadn’t even heard the door open.

“Yeah, I’m here.” Her voice was thick and raspy with disuse.

“Will you come out? We’re worried about you.” She was closer now, right outside the door.

“I can’t. I never want to come out,” she moaned. Her face hurt. There was no need to look in a mirror to see how awful she looked, she could feel the swelling around her eyes and cheeks.

“Don’t say that, come on, open the door,” Dorcas reasoned, giving the handle a gentle shake.

When no answer came, there was a weary sigh and she murmured, “Alohamora.”

Lily shifted her weight off the door just enough so that she wouldn’t keel over when her friend opened it. Dorcas knelt next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. The redhead leaned in, the familiar scent of wood smoke and amber in her nose. Dorcas’ shirt was open at the collar - her blue Ravenclaw tie undone and hanging loose around her shoulders – exposing the dark skin of her throat.

“Let’s go.”

Not wasting any time, Dorcas pulled Lily up by her armpits and observed the damage. Her glittering black eyes skated over her from top to bottom. She pursed her full lips together and tsked loudly.

“Oh dear. You truly look awful, you know that,” she said, a sad but understanding smile on her face.

A sniffle and a half-hearted quirk of the lips was all the answer she received. With a sigh, Dorcas propelled her from the bathroom. Quick steps and a firm hand on the small of her back guided her through the corridors. They didn’t meet a soul, the castle was almost deserted. Through the fog clouding her brain, Lily registered this and was thankful. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to see her, a Prefect, like this.

“Oh, good heavens! Is everything alright Miss Evans?” It was the deep, plumy voice of the Fat Lady. She ignored the portrait’s question.

“Pygmy Puff,” she mumbled. Somehow, from somewhere, a new wave of tears rushed up and threatened to spill down her cheeks.

The portrait swung open but Lily didn’t move.

“Marlene is waiting for you, honey. Go on in,” murmured Dorcas, giving her a gentle push.

Silently, she climbed through the portrait hole, leaving Dorcas to make her way back to the Ravenclaw common room, and was immediately met by Marlene. She appeared in a whirlwind of blonde hair, ready to ferry Lily up to their dormitory. The common room was full, that much she knew, and she could tell that every single pair of eyes were trained on her as a heavy silence fell. But she was too tired to care. She wanted to go to bed.

“Is Remus here?” she rasped.

Marlene nodded and pointed to the cluster of armchairs by the fire where all four of the Marauders were staring at her. All but Peter Pettigrew were unnaturally still, caught in the spell of Lily’s dishevelled appearance. Peter couldn’t seem to stop himself from twitching, fidgeting with anything he could lay his chubby hands on.

In a daze, she approached the four boys. Although she could feel James’ eyes boring into her, taking in every single red blotch and the puffiness of her face, she refused to look at him. If she did then there was no way to stop the tears that were once more lingering right beneath the surface.

“Remus, I can’t do my rounds tonight. Can you cover?” Her voice was dead, a thick monotone that didn’t sound like her.

“Uh, yeah, yeah of course I can. Whatever you need.”

There was a slight pause before he asked, “What will I tell Cissa?”

But she had already turned away, Marlene her golden shadow.

“Whatever you want. I don’t care,” she sighed.

In that moment, she didn’t. She couldn’t bear to think of Narcissa, with her star bright eyes, gleaming hair and the purest of pureblood status. It hurt too much.

Never before had the walk up to her dorm seemed so long. Every step was an effort. It was like her bones had been replaced with lead and added weights had been strapped to her ankles and wrists for good measure.

The quiet of the dorm was a blessing. Not bothering to undress, Lily kicked off her shoes and collapsed into bed. Marlene perched on the edge. Her blue-grey eyes were stormy. Words pressed up against her lips, clamouring to be released but she kept her mouth shut tight. She simply stroked Lily’s hair, placed a gentle kiss on her forehead head, told her to get some sleep and bade her goodnight. With a flick of her wand the curtains to her four-poster shut, enclosing her in blessed darkness.

It didn’t take long for sleep to claim her.

When she awoke, the grey light of the pre-dawn leaked between the curtains of her bed and the familiar snuffles and even breathing of her roommates cradled her sleep addled mind. She was still in her robes from the day before, rumpled and creased. Her sleep though deep had clearly been plagued by ceaseless tossing and turning. Mouth dry and tasting stale, Lily sat up and pawed at her still puffy face. The damage of the day before a cruel mask she would have to wear for a few more hours yet.

Lily slid from bed as silently as she could, gathered her wash bag and towel, and slipped into the stone stairwell. Before the cold could seep from the flagstone through her socks to chill her feet, she flited upstairs to the wash room. Peeling off her soiled robes, she shivered as the cool air met slid over her bare skin.

The shower’s warm water was bliss. It beat the last of sleep’s cobwebs away, leaving her mind clear and focussed. Of course, all she could think about was the previous day’s events. If it hadn’t been clear to her before, it was now. For some witches and wizards, it didn’t matter what she did or who she became. It wouldn’t matter if she was the most powerful witch or the most talented. For those few people, she would be a Muggleborn before all else, a parasite siphoning off magic from those who they deemed needed, no, deserved it more.

Names flashed in her mind: Rodolphus Lestrange, Evan Rosier, and, of course, Bellatrix Black. Narcissa’s sister. Her sweet, darling Narcissa who she loved so dearly. Bellatrix’s name appeared in The Daily Prophet almost daily now. The young witch made no attempt to hide her name or her loyalties. The more chaos and misery she sowed the better. It was reported just yesterday that she was single-handedly responsible for over 80 muggle deaths and had seriously injured several muggleborn witches and wizards over the last few months. Details on the way she conducted her business were scant but gruesome. Torture was her art and her greatest pleasure. After all, what information could a muggle possibly give her? No, it was all a game.

As she pondered these thoughts, Lily scrubbed herself clean with care and precision. She dragged the sponge across her skin until she was pink and raw. A growing sense of dread grew in the pit of her stomach and settled there, rock hard and heavy. There was something she knew she had to do.

She couldn’t shake the feeling of dread for the rest of the morning. It was there while she dressed, and crowded her while she ate a solitary breakfast in the Great Hall. Her owl, Artemis, somehow knew she was there and brought her that morning’s copy of the Daily Prophet but she couldn’t bear to open it. She didn’t need to know about the latest terrors and growing anti-muggle sentiment that was growing in certain wizarding circles. Any other morning it wouldn’t be an issue, but after the previous afternoon’s excitement, she could live without it.

Th first of her friends to make their way to the Great Hall that morning was Mary MacDonald. Mary had not changed much in the five years she had known her. She was still small and slight and still wore her hair in a blunt bob with a heavy fringe that hung into her eyes. When she rose to meet her, the Hufflepuff embraced Lily without a word. They stood like that, intertwined, for several minutes.

“Yesterday was a bit shite, wasn’t it,” said Mary, stepping back from their hug.

Lily chuckled.

“That’s something of an understatement.”

Mary inclined her head and shrugged one shoulder.

“Look, I know that Severus has been your friend for a long time, but maybe it’ll do the two of you some good to have some distance? Let the dust settle. He can maybe get his priorities in order,” she offered.

Lily wasn’t so sure but she nodded anyway.

“I meant to ask,” she said, with the most unsubtle change of subject known to witchkind. “How did Dorcas find me?”

“Oh, well, we looked for a while but couldn’t find you so we asked Remus, who asked Sirius, who asked James and for some reason, he knew that you were in the bathrooms,” Mary explained. “I don’t know how he knew. He disappeared up into his dormitory and when he came back, he knew where you were.”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Lily murmured, unable to work out how on earth James Potter could have worked out where she’d been hiding.

After a few more minutes, Lily left Mary in the Great Hall and hurried up to the owlery. She scratched out a quick note and sent Artemis out to find the addressee.

As she watched her owl swoop through the sky, she felt a tremor of trepidation through her body.

A rap on the door alerted Lily to her presence. She swept into the spare classroom with a flourish, her long, white blonde hair swishing as she twirled. Star bright eyes twinkled at her and a broad smile adorned her face. She was as brilliant as a winter’s day and just as beautiful. Lily’s heart wrenched and she longed to fall into her embrace, to lose herself to a thousand kisses.

Narcissa pulled her close before she could say a word. She cupped her face, one hand slipping through her hair, and kissed her deeply. Lily could feel her resolve weakening with every second. All too soon, Cissa pulled away with a coy smile.

“Hello darling.” Her voice was warm, an undercurrent of excitement running through her words.

Her head was cocked to the side and she ever so gently pushed a stray strand of hair away from Lily’s face. The redhead shifted out of the embrace needing to put space between them. If she felt her touch again then she knew any remaining resolve would leave her.

“We, uh, we need to talk,” Lily mumbled.

“Uh oh, that sounds ominous!” she laughed, her smile hadn’t faltered for even a second.

“This has to end.”

The words were out like a bullet train.

Narcissa let out a cold, humourless laugh.

“No. Don’t be ridiculous. This isn’t ending. Lily, come on, this is us,” she insisted, reaching to take her hands. But Lily avoided her touch.

Hurt flashed across Narcissa’s face. It was only for a second then a mask of cool collectedness covered it.

“Is this because of what happened at the lake?” she asked, very matter of fact. “Snape is an idiot. Mulciber and Avery are rubbing off on him.”

She was being dismissive. Of course she was. It was her go to defence mechanism.

“Well, yes. They are. That’s part of the problem. What he said, there are others who think that as well.”

“And they’re wrong.”

“Even when it’s the likes of your family saying it, Cissa?”

There was a beat where neither of them said anything.

“Oh, come on, Lily! Just because my family runs their mouths about Muggleborns and blood purity doesn’t mean I believe that nonsense.”

Lily wanted to stop this. She wanted forget about the lake, the war, and the man hellbent on securing pure blood supremacy but there was no turning back now. Even if she wished it with all her heart, she couldn’t go back to how it was before. If there had been such a thing as before.

“Bellatrix isn’t just running her mouth though is she. She’s killing people Cis. She’d kill me too.” The words faltered in her mouth, turning to ash.

She couldn’t keep looking at Narcissa. She shone too brightly.

The blonde shifted, stiffened.

“I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But you told me yourself what she did to Dromeda. Why wouldn’t she do the same to you?” Lily reasoned in a quiet voice. Her eyes were trained on the hem of her robes. “I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt. . . And I don’t want to get hurt.”

The pause was bloated, filling with unsaid words, waiting to burst open like a sore.

“That’s bullshit Lily and you know it. We could run away. I could protect you.”

“I know that you would try but your loyalty is to them, not to me, and I wouldn’t ask you to choose. But, I can’t be with you like this. Your family would never accept me, never accept us. It was always a fool’s game to think otherwise.”

“You know what, Lily, you could have been a Slytherin with that attitude,” Cissa snapped, lips pursed and jaw jutting.

“Yeah, well we both know why that didn’t happen.”

“There are Muggleborns in Slytherin!”

“Oh, and Elijah Robertson’s head just magically cracked itself open on the flagstone did it?”

Narcissa drew up short, whatever she was about to say died in her mouth. And whatever it was must have left a sour taste judging by the way her face twisted.

“N-nobody knows who did that.” She faltered, voice meek and unsure. It was an unsettling role to see her play.

“Yeah. Sure. But it’s an open secret. Everyone knows that it was Dolohov and his goons,” Lily scoffed. She could feel her ire beginning to rise, heart racing. Before she could argue any further, she added, “I’ve made up my mind. I can’t be with you anymore.”

With a huff, Narcissa slumped against a desk.

“I don’t want this to end.”

It was a whispered admission. Tears glimmered at the edges of her star-bright eyes and there was an almost imperceptible wobble to her bottom lip.

“I know. But it has to.”

Lily hated seeing her like this, hated the fact that it was her fault. She shifted, twisting her hands together. They sat in silence once more. There had been a seismic shift between them and now they stood on opposing sides of an endless ravine. There was nothing either of them could say that would bring the other back.

“So, that’s it,” murmured Narcissa. Her tears remained unshed and her light had dimmed. Their eyes met and Lily thought she saw the faint ghost of a smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth. “I don’t suppose I get one last kiss?”

There was no question. Pushing off the desk she had been leaning against, Lily closed the gap between them in two strides. The pull was as magnetic as it had always been. With gentle hands at her waist, she pulled the blonde girl into a standing position. The rich silk of her robes was slippery under her fingers; its familiarity calmed the fluttering of her pulse. The expensive perfume Narcissa so loved to wear tickled her nose as they drew closer.

Their lips brushed together like a sweet whisper. Again and again and again. They were all featherlight touches.

Until they weren’t.

They were a thunder storm breaking through a summer drought. Mouths hot and bruising, they drank each other up. Hands tangled in hair and grabbed at clothes; all Lily wanted to do was lose herself in this last fevered embrace. She gripped the girl tight, crushing her against her as if they might sink together and never be apart. Heart pounding and blood rushing in her ears, her mind was a tumultuous sea of everything Narcissa.

But, with time, as with all things, they slowed. Foreheads pressed together, still breathing each other, their eyes locked together. A pink flush had crept into the blonde’s cheeks and her lips were cherry red. They stayed that way until their breathing stilled and became even once more.

It was Narcissa that pulled away first, smoothing her hair and straightening her clothes. She now avoided Lily’s gaze, trying to compose herself.

Lily said nothing. What more could she say? Anything else would be an insult.

Cissa brushed and brushed and brushed down her robes but the wrinkles in the silvery silk would not disappear so easily. She paused, head bowed, and sighed. When she raised her chin once more her jaw was set and eyes tight, but that practised mask of cool collectedness was full of cracks.

“I will see you around, darling,” she said, squaring off her shoulders and drawing herself up to her full height.

With a flash of a smile and an airy wave of the hand, she spun on her heel and left. It was only as the door snicked shut that Lily allowed her tears to come. From some unknown reserve, the tears came and fell silently onto her cheeks. She had never felt more alone.

[calpalirwin]

Somebody to You

Summary: Nothing like a roadtrip to a wedding to make Zyla feel extra sappy about her own husband.

A/N: Sort of in collab with @baldcalum​ @cxddlyash​ and @talkfastromance4​. Thanks for letting me pester you with questions/bounce ideas off of you!

Content: All the soft.

Word count: 3k

And away, and away we go!

__

“My mother warned me about stranger danger, but she never warned me about what to do when the man with the van is your husband,” I joked as I carefully hung up the garment bags in the empty back.

“You could’ve flown with them,” Ashton told me as he started to load up everything we needed. “I drew the short straw, not you.”

I leaned against the van, admiring how his muscles flexed with his movements. God, the fact that this man was my husband still totally blew my mind nearly a year after the fact. “You didn’t draw the short straw. You offered. And we’re a team now, in case you forgot.”

“How could I ever forget the best day of my life?”

I laughed. A sassy retort was on my lips but my phone rang cutting me off. “Hey, Kai,” I answered, barely needing to glance at the caller ID to know who it was.

“Have you talked with everyone about their flight?” her panicked voice asked.

“Yes,” I spoke into the phone. “Their flight leaves later. They’ll get there probably at the same time Ashton and I do.”

“And are you leaving soon?” Kai asked and I could hear the clicking of my friend’s heels as she paced back and forth.

“Yes,” I assured her. “And take a breath. Relax. We’ll probably beat the GPS. You know Ash drives like a madman.”

“I do not,” Ashton piped up at the same time Kai groaned, “If he gets you both killed on the drive out here, I will bring you back from the dead to kill you both myself!”

“So, I get to die twice for something I didn’t do? That hardly seems fair…”

“You married him!”

“Damn right I did,” I smirked before I used my free hand to smack at my husband’s ass as he loaded the last bit of our things into the van for the trip.

“Hey!” Ashton yelped in surprise before turning towards me, his hazel eyes dancing, a seductive smirk beginning to grace his lips, and his dimple making its debut. “I’m supposed to do that to you.”

I snapped my teeth playfully at the man. “Alright, we’re about to hit the road. I’ll keep you updated on where we are, okay?” I told Kai, doing what I could to calm her overworking mind. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” I asked Ashton.

“No!” both him and Kai answered way too quickly.

“Cuss out a guy one time and they never let you live it down,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“Just hurry,” Kai whined. “But not fast. Just regular speed, ASHTON!”

“Yes, Mrs. Hood!” Ashton answered, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice so the woman on the other end of the phone could hear him.

“He’s lucky he’s married to my best friend otherwise I would have killed him already…”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said with an eye roll. How such a low-strung woman as myself was best friend’s with a high-strung type like Kai was beyond me sometimes. I supposed it really was about balance. “Just take a few deep breaths. Set that future husband of yours to good use. And I’ll be there before you know it.”

“And Britt and Holly!” Kai added with a sense of urgency.

“Shit, did I remind Mikey to confirm the rooms?” I wondered out loud with a playful tone.

“Zy!”

I laughed, “Would you relax? I was teasing!” Then, I mouthed at Ashton in case I had actually forgotten for him to “Text Mikey about the rooms!”

“I hate you…”

“No you don’t,” I chirped.

“Kai, if you don’t let my wife off the phone, we’re going to be late!” Ashton said as he quickly typed on his phone.

“She can talk on the phone while you drive!”

“Not if you want us to live!”

I rolled my eyes more. “I’ll text you from the road. And you,” I said, turning my attention from my phone to Ashton. “Did you poop?”

“Did I po- Fuck. Be right back.”

“You seriously need to stop drinking an entire pot of coffee by yourself…”

“Well if someone drank it with me…”

“Just make less! It’s not that hard!”

“You leave me and my coffee addiction alone!”

“Go poop!”

~~~

“That’ll be five dollars,” the bartender told me.

“For a water?” I asked incredulously, pulling out my wallet anyway. “This is why I don’t go out…” I continued to grumble as I started to hand my card over. Whatever Kai had planned that required me to be in a dress and heels instead of on my couch in sweats and an oversized shirt had better be good. Where the hell was she anyway?

“Put it on my tab. I got it, sweetheart,” a deep and smooth voice from behind me said before a large hand was pulling mine away from paying.

“I can buy my own water, but thank you,” I answered, turning to eye the friendly stranger. And I immediately had to keep my jaw from dropping to the floor. His brown hair was perfectly slicked back except for this one stubborn piece that curled between a stunning set of honey gold eyes. A leather jacket hugged his strong shoulders and the buttons on his shirt were undone to a dangerously low level. I struggled to keep my eyes from traveling further down his body, turning my attention to the hand that was now extended to me in greeting. I shook it, noting the damage to his fingers. A drummer if I had to guess. Fuck. I loved drummers.

“Oh I’m not doubting that. But anyone who buys water at a club immediately has my respect. I’m Ashton by the way,” he was saying when I finally refocused.

“Zyla,” I introduced, giving him my award-winning smile.

“I believe this is yours, Zyla,” Ashton said, handing me the water bottle, and I had to hold back the school-girl like giggle bubbling up in my throat at the way my name sounded rolling off his lips and the way his fingers brushed against my hand.

~~~

“Whatcha thinking about?” Ashton’s voice asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Thinking about how we met actually,” I answered honestly, smiling softly at him.

“You looked hot that night,” Ashton recalled, taking one hand off the steering wheel to interlace his fingers with mine.

I laughed, my cheeks turning red. “I was not.”

Ashton scoffed as he raised his hand that was holding mine to brush his lips against my knuckles. “The hottest.”

“Hotter than our wedding day?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Yes.”

I scoffed and swatted his chest. “Wrong answer, Ash.”

“You didn’t let me finish!” he giggled. “You were fucking stunning on our wedding day.”

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!”

“Any regrets?”

“With you? Never. You know why?” I asked.

“Why?” he asked.

“All I wanna be, yeah all I ever wanna be, yeah, yeah is somebody to you!” I sang along with the music blasting lightly through the speakers.

“Everybody’s tryin’ to be a billionaire! But every time I look at you I just don’t care!” he joined in.

“Cause all I wanna be, yeah all I ever wanna be, yeah, yeah is somebody to you!”

~~~

“So what’s your connection to the music industry?” Ashton asked, his attention fully on me.

“Oh, I’m this one’s photographer,” I answered, wrapping my arm around Kai’s shoulders. This was their conversation. Their collaboration meeting. What the fuck was Kai thinking inviting me out? Something in the way Ashton kept trying to get me involved in the conversation made me think I had my answer.

“Oh, she’s fuckin’ fantastic. Top of her game,” Kai bragged, and I knew I had my answer.

“I’m alright,” I shrugged. “It’s just about passion.”

“Oh, modest are we? Mind if I look at your work sometime? See who’s assessment is more correct?” Ashton inquired.

“That sounds suspiciously like you’re asking me on a date, sir,” I told him, leaning forward across the table. If he was baiting, I was biting. I’d be a damn fool not to. And Kai knew it, the fucking sneak she was. I made a mental note to both thank and throttle her for this later.

“And if I was?” he asked, leaning forward himself so our faces were inches apart.

~~~

“Yes, they got on the flight.”

“And Ash has the instruments?”

“Yes, we have everything.”

“You remembered his suit and your dress? And your heels? I swear if you wear flats… or gods forbid… sne-snea- Ugh! I can’t even say the word!”

I rolled my eyes at her antics. Since when was comfort a crime? “Yes, Kai. I remembered it all. Relax.”

“Wait! How are you going to take the pictures if you’re in them?! You’ve always taken my pictures! Oh my, God!”

“You know I have a team, right? Like I run a business. I have employees.”

“But they’re not you!”

“I don’t hire amateurs, Kai. And you will get final say before anything goes to print. Now, breathe!” I left out the part that of course I had brought my own camera equipment for the spur of the moment inspiration, because she knew I never traveled without my gear.

“How far have you guys gotten?”

“Halfway give or take.”

“It’s a 6 hour drive, and you left at 8 this morning. It’s almost 1!”

“Well, we can’t just drive for 6 hours straight. We gotta stop for food and pee breaks.”

“You mean coffee and poop breaks?”

“Same thing,” I laughed as Ashton walked out of the gas station with two bottles of water and a huge bag of Cheez-Its. I let out an excited gasp as I reached for the bag. “Yes! I love you!” I cheered.

“I love you too. Now hurry up!”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Kai. But yes. We’ll be there soon. If someone can stop pooping every fifty miles.”

“I wouldn’t have to drink so much coffee if someone helped me drink it. Or offered to drive…” Ashton teased.

“You wouldn’t let me drive,” I reminded him, opening the bag and swallowing a handful of cheesy cracker goodness.

“That's because you get mad road rage, miss.”

“That’s ma’am to you, sir,” I laughed. “I’m a married woman.”

“Are you ever gonna get tired of saying that?” he asked, a goofy grin on his face.

“Fuck no!” I laughed more, reaching up on tiptoe to peck his lips with mine. “Husband, husband, husband.”

“Wife, wife, wife,” he replied, kissing me after each word.

~~~

“You ever think about getting married?” Ashton asked.

“Like in general? Or to you?” I asked, my senses perking into high alert mode.

“Both?”

I shrugged. “Little scary isn’t it? I mean, every relationship runs the risk of those involved waking up one day and suddenly this isn’t what they want anymore. So to divorce in the midst of heartbreak… well… I guess it would depend on how I felt the person asking me to decide if that was a risk I was willing to take.”

“And if I asked?”

“I’d say call Andy and Ryan to make sure there’s photos and video of me saying yes.”

“Really?” he asked, his voice full of amazement and hope.

“Of all the things I want to be in life, yours is easily at the top of that list.”

~~~

“Fuck, this view is gorgeous,” I marveled as we leaned against the van.

“Yeah it is,” he smiled, his eyes on me.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “I meant this view,” I said, gesturing out the window to the winter wonderland spread out before us. Kai may be over the top, but the girl had mad style, no question about it.

“I know what you meant,” he told me, wrapping his arm around me and kissing the side of my head. “And out of all the views I’ve seen and will go on to see, none of them matter if you’re not in them.”

~~~

“So, what’s the big secret?” Kai asked, once I had gathered all my girlfriends together.

I answered by sticking out my left hand, letting them decipher the news for themselves.

“Ohmigod!” Britt and Holly screeched in excitement. Britt grabbed my hand to get a closer look while Holly jumped in circles starting rattling off wedding ideas.

I looked at Kai who stared back with a blank expression. “Well?” I prompted.

“I thought you hated the idea of marriage,” was the response, void of any real emotion except genuine confusion. Of all our differences, that had been our one similarity- besides a love of pretzels and an aversion to drinking. While we weren’t necessarily anti-romance, marriage just wasn’t something that had been on our radars. And now for me to be engaged before Britt or Holly, well, it was definitely a shock to the system. I still couldn’t quite believe it myself. The weight on my finger was both surreal and not the least bit heavy.

“I do! I did… I… I dunno.”

“Does he make you happy?”

“Duh!”

“Do you make him happy?”

“I would hope so.”

“Does he love you?”

“Again, I certainly hope so.”

“Do you love him?”

“So fuckin much.”

“Am I maid of honor?”

“Please?”

“Congrats, Zy,” Kai smiled.

~~~

“Kai Theodora Zaher,” Calum spoke, pausing to clear away the thickness in his throat. “You were perfect from the first moment I met you. More than perfect. And while I would never ask you to change anything about you, one thing has always bothered me. Your last name not being mine. Thank you, not only for turning my world on its head, but allowing me to make you Kai Theodora Zaher Hood. I love you, wildflower.”

Kai’s hand gripped my fingers tightly as she held back the squeak and the rest of us choked down our tears. Funny how cynics usually had the softest hearts.

I looked over at Ashton who stood directly across from me besides Calum. If I was closer, the heels on my feet would bring me to the perfect height for me to tuck my head under his chin without me needing to strain up or him needing to slump down. He looked so good in his suit with his hair slicked back for the occasion. And I knew I looked like a bombshell in my own floor-length gown that hugged my small curves in the most perfect of ways. Kai had really outdone herself with this winter wonderland she had created. Every detail no matter how small was absolutely perfect. Ashton’s eyes met mine and his lips moved to mouth “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I mouthed back, before letting my mind take me back only earlier this year when it had been him and I in Calum and Kai’s places and them in ours.

~~~

“I promise to always buy you overpriced bottles of water.”

“I promise to chase the risk that is my life with you.”

“I promise to make that risk worth it.”

“I promise to always be your somebody.”

~~~

“This year has definitely been one for the books, hasn’t it, Kai? See, I dunno if you all know this, but it’s always been Kai and I. Kai and Zy. Zy and Kai. The opposites glued at the hips. Never one without the other,” I paused to squeeze my best friend’s shoulder before I went on with my speech. “All my years with her have been filled with their adventures. But this year? Well, this year started with a wedding. And it’s befitting it ends with one too. Because, you see, Kai and I, for getting married first,” I paused again to smirk over at Luke and Mike who squirmed in their seats under my gaze, “never really bought into the marriage idea. Romance, sure. But marriage was always too messy. And then! Oh, boy, and then these two came right out of left field and messed that right up.” I moved my hand that was squeezing Kai’s shoulder to rest on Calum’s. “Calum, my dear sweet friend, thank you for proving to my best friend what your best friend proved to me. Because while I may not believe in marriage, I believe in mine, and I believe in yours. Best years to you both. I love you.”

I kissed both of their cheeks before handing the microphone to Ashton as he held my chair out for me to take my seat. “Well,” Ashton spoke around the lump in his throat, taking a small moment to clear it. “You’d think that my days as a musician would have prepared me for the opening act completely outdoing the headliner…”

I stuck my tongue out at him and he grinned at me.

“If someone had asked me that the first wedding I give a best man speech at would be Calum’s, I probably would have laughed. That’s how wild this all is. Kai, thank you for flipping his world upside down. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier than when he’s with you. And we all know how much he loves his bass, so mad props to you, darling. Cal? Don’t fuck this up, mate.”

~~~

“Good morning, Mrs. Irwin!” Ashton said brightly, waking me up with the kisses he was covering my body with. “How do you feel, Mrs. Irwin?” he grinned when his lips found mine.

“Like I’m on top of the world,” I grinned back.

“Adjusting to that weight on your finger okay?”

“Feels surprisingly light. Like I always meant to wear it.”

“Mmm, that’s probably cuz you were.”

“You really think that? That I was always meant to be your wife?”

“I think you were always meant to be the greatest somebody to me. I just got lucky that somebody was my wife.”

“You’re such a sap,” I laughed, feeling myself tear up at his sentiment.

“Your sap.”

“My sap.”

~~~

“What is it about weddings that makes me want to get married?” Ashton asked as he twirled me in a circle before pulling me against his chest.

“We’re already married,” I pointed out.

“And I want to marry you every day for the rest of my life.”

“And I’ll marry you every time.”

__

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[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars XXV (Harry Potter xFem!Oc)

A/N: So this was a really fun and cute chapter, I remember that, enjoy!

Words: 3,999

Warnings: None except my absolute lack of proofreading

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Seven: Mrs. Weasley’s Howler.

Hermione had taken the whole incident as a personal offense, at this point, Mel was used to it.

She decided to escape by getting up later than Hermione and have breakfast with the boys. When they got to the Great Hall, Hermione barely looked up from her book, not even saying hi.

The mail arrived as usual, and poor Errol dropped on top of Hermione's plate.

He had been carrying a red envelope.

"Oh, no."

"It's all right, he's still alive"

"It's not that - it's that."

Ron was pointing at a red paper.

"What's the matter?" asked Harry.

"She's - she's sent me a Howler," said Ron with fear.

"What's that?" Mel tried to reach for the letter, but Ron pushed her away.

"Don't!"

"You'd better open it, Ron," said Neville. "It'll be worse if you don't My gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and... it was horrible."

"What's a Howler?" Harry insisted.

"Open it," Neville urged. "It'll all be over in a few minutes -"

Ron reached for the letter and opened, Neville covered his ears and out of nowhere, Mrs. Weasley's voice came roaring from the paper:

"STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE —"

Mel was looking at it with her mouth wide open in horror, unable to make it stop, she had to witness as Ron slowly sunk further and further on his chair, deeply embarrassed.

"- LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU, MEL AND HARRY COULD HAVE DIED -"

"Oh my god..." Mel covered her face in utter shame and sunk next to her friend, and this wasn't even her mother's reaction! It was silly, but she'd forgotten that her mother had been notified. She wasn't scared about it... until now.

"-ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED - YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

Without adding nothing else, the envelope burst into flames and turned into a puddle of ashes.

A second owl flew across the table and dropped a letter -a normal looking one- on Mel's head.

"Thank Merlin," She whispered, safely putting it away in her pocket.

A few students laughed and then that was it, they returned to their normal activities.

Hermione closed her book, ready to add her opinion on the matter.

"Well, I don't know what you expected, Ron, but you -"

"Don't tell me I deserved it," Ron snapped.

"What did Emily send you, Mel?" Harry asked, still looking pale.

"I won't open it here," She grimaced, "I'll do it later tonight"

"You're lucky it wasn't a howler," Ron grumbled, "Mum could've been less dramatic, you know?"

Before Hermione could argue against him, Professor McGonagall passed, handing out schedules. They had Herbology with the Hufflepuffs that morning.

They left the Hall towards the greenhouses, Hermione was in a much brighter mood now.

The rest of the class was standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. They were getting closer when Mel felt a single tug on her sleeve and looked up, finding a familiar set of hazel eyes.

"E-" She was soon cut off by the boy, who just handed her a carefully folded piece of paper.

Erick left without adding a word to it, not even looking back. Mel stood in confusion for a few seconds until she heard Sprout's voice.

She was accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart. Professor Sprout's arms were full of bandages, and as Harry poked her shoulder and pointed to their left, she noticed the Whomping Willow in the distance, several of its branches now in slings.

"Well, that's a bit ridiculous," She frowned, thinking about the ugly bruise that covered most part of her ribs, "it's a tree, can't be that injured can it?"

"You don't know that," Hermione replied.

"Oh, hello there!" Professor Lockhart called, "Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels..."

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout.

"How kind of him, next thing he'll be teaching the giant squid how to swim," Mel whispered to Harry, making him laugh.

"Greenhouse three!" Exclaimed Hermione excitedly, "We've never been there before!"

As they approached the greenhouse, Lockhart's hand reached Harry's shoulder and stopped him.

"Harry! I've been wanting a word - you don't mind if he's a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?"

Mel looked anxiously between the teachers, hoping for Professor Sprout to say something, however, Lockhart was faster.

"That's the ticket," He closed the door on their faces.

"That..." Professor Sprout clenched her fists, "Man. Miss Dumbledore go to your seat, what are you waiting for?"

Mel rushed to get a seat next to Ron. When he asked where Harry was, she shrugged.

"Lockhart wanted to speak with him, dunno why"

After a few minutes, Harry walked in with a puzzled expression as he approached their bench.

"We'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

Mel and Hermione's hands shot up. They shared a look and Mel lowered her hand, encouraging her friend to speak.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," said Hermione, sending a small smile her way, "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor," said Professor Sprout, "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

Both girls raised their hand again, this time, it was Hermione who lowered hers.

"The cry of the Mandrake," Mel said a little shyly, "it's lethal. Though is less damaging when they're not fully grown"

"Precisely. Take another ten points," said Professor Sprout, "Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young."

She pointed to the little plants on the table.

"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," said Professor Sprout. "When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered. When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right - earmuffs on."

They put on the earmuffs and Professor Sprout pulled out one of the plants from its place.

Mel reconsidered her stance on plants not being able to feel, cause that plant in front of her looked very much alive.

She thought of them as baby Nymphs, it looked like it: green leaves for hair and muddy skin. Although they were uglier than the Nymphs on her books.

Professor Sprout took a pot from under the table and set the Mandrake into it, burying it in compost up to its leaves. Then she gave them the thumbs-up and removed her own earmuffs.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet, however, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up. Four to a tray - there is a large supply of pots here - compost in the sacks over there - and be careful of the Venemous Tentacula, it's teething."

They inched closer, Mel accidentally hit a boy as she moved to get a pot and apologized promptly, he smiled and shrugged it off, he also took that moment to introduce himself.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," he shook their hands, "Know who you are, of course, the famous Harry Potter... And you're Hermione Granger - always top in everything, Mel Dumbledore- people talk a lot about you too, mostly about how often you try to start fights-"

"I do not," She blushed.

"-and Ron Weasley. Wasn't that your flying car?"

Ron's pride was still hurt by that Howler, so he didn't say anything.

"That Lockhart's something, isn't he?" said Justin, now that they were starting to work, "Awfully brave chap. Have you read his books? I'd have died of fear if I'd been cornered in a telephone booth by a werewolf, but he stayed cool and - zap - just fantastic."

"He's something alright," Mel mumbled distractedly.

"My name was down for Eton, you know. I can't tell you how glad I am I came here instead. Of course, Mother was slightly disappointed, but since I made her read Lockhart's books I think she's begun to see how useful it'll be to have a fully trained wizard in the family..."

"Ah!" Mel complained as she accidentally bumped against Hermione when walking out of the bathroom, "My ribs hurt, I should go to Pomfrey for a quick check..."

"You haven't gone?" Hermione said worryingly.

They finished their Herbology class covered in mud and sweat, so most fo the students went to wash their faces and hands before their transfiguration lesson.

"I didn't have time this morning cause I woke up late, and after I just didn't see the point on going. I mean, I can move-"

"But it hurts," Hermione frowned, "if it hurts is not good"

"I'll go before the day ends, I promise..."

They entered the class and sat behind Harry and Ron.

As usual, Mel and Hermione were the only ones able to turn their beetles into buttons. Mel would've been happy if it wasn't because Ron's awful fights with his own wand kept distracting her the whole time.

"Stupid - useless - thing -" Ron said angrily.

"If I were you, I wouldn't be doing that," Mel said as she stood up, hanging her bag on one shoulder, "unless you want to blow up the desk"

"Write home for another one," Harry suggested.

The wand let out another cloud of grey, stinky smoke.

"Oh, yeah, and get another Howler back," Ron scoffed, "-'It's your own fault your wand got snapped - '"

When they sat on the Gryffindor table, Hermione tried to show them the buttons she had managed to do, but seeing Ron's awful mood, Mel shook her head behind his back and signaled her to put them away.

"What've we got this afternoon?" said Harry.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once.

Mel peered over Hermione's shoulder, when she caught sight of something Hermione had written on it, she almost choked on her pumpkin juice.

"Why," Ron grabbed the paper, brows knit together, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Hermione tried to take the schedule away but Mel was faster.

"My, my..." Mel said with her voice shaking, trying not to laugh, "crushing are we, 'Mione?"

"Leave it!" She complained, finally getting a hold of the paper and putting it back on her bag, "it's nothing-"

"It's alright, I guess he's handsome," Mel grinned, "surprises me that the brilliant Hermione Granger would fall for someone who is clearly all looks and zero brains"

Harry had told her about his little chat with Lockhart, for her, it was clear that Lockhart had no idea of what was he doing in that school.

"He's really clever, you know," Hermione defended, "all his books-"

"Yes, those books," Mel snorted, "you know, stupid doesn't equal lack of imagination"

Hermione refused to speak to her for the rest of the lunch hour.

Erick Flint walked into the Great Hall along with his group of friends and Mel suddenly remembered she hadn't read the note he'd given her.

She searched for it in her bag and pulled it out, now slightly wrinkled and messier than when he first delivered it. The girl looked at her friends and, making sure no one was watching her, she unfolded it.

'Morning, Miss

The first day and you're already making a fuss, can't Gryffindors help being so loud all the time? It was a pretty stupid thing to do, but at least you're not dead...

This year I'll be going to Hogsmeade for the first time ever -it's the town closest to the school- and I wanted to be a "good friend" and ask you if you'd like me to bring you anything, it'd be my treat, as a late birthday gift for you.

I believe that our first trip is until October, but I'll let you know. You have plenty of time to send your response.

Have a nice day,

Erick F.'

Mel looked up from the note and searched for her friend. She found him already looking back, he had an icy neutral expression, but she could've sworn she saw the smallest smile as he looked away.

"What's that?" Ron asked curiously, pointing to the paper on her hand.

"Nothing," She lied, "it's just a silly note that Fred and George snuck in my bag"

"Why?" He frowned.

"I don't know. Your brothers are crazy," She rolled her eyes, putting the paper away.

"You're not in love with them, are you?" Ron asked.

Mel choked on her drink again.

"What!? "

"It's just- it would be weird," He shrugged, "to have you as my friend but also see you date one of them..."

"Ron!" She stammered, feeling her cheeks burn, "I'm not in love with any of your brothers!"

"I'm just making sure!" He exclaimed, ears just as red as her face, "You can't blame me, you're always with them so I'd to ask. Harry thinks the same, don't you Harry?"

He was quiet, his eyes fixed on his plate. But when Ron asked, he also almost choked on his food.

"I-I..." Harry stuttered, "I mean... Fred and George always tease her. It doesn't mean they trying something-"

"Thank you!" Mel exclaimed, looking at Ron as if Harry had just proven her point.

"What's going on with you?" Ron huffed, "Last year you were the one teasing her about it. Now you're saying it's not real?"

"It was just a joke," Harry frowned, "I don't actually believe it"

"I don't have a crush on your brothers, Ron," Mel assured him. Without knowing why, her eyes briefly looked at Harry when she added, "If I ever have feelings for someone, you'll be the first to know..."

Colin Creevey was a sweet boy, however, he also had terrible timing.

He was a lot like Neville: same anxious eyes, fidgeting as he held his camera tight against his chest, asking Harry for a signed picture.

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?" Malfoy appeared followed by Crabbe and Goyle on each side, "Everyone line up! Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," said Harry angrily, "Shut up, Malfoy."

"You're just jealous," said Colin.

Mel stood up quickly as she watched Crabbe and Goyle tried to approach the kid.

"Jealous? Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."

"Eat slugs, Malfoy," said Ron.

"Be careful, Weasley. You don't want to start any trouble or your Mommy'll have to come and take you away from school. 'If you put another toe out of line' - "

A knot of Slytherin fifth-years nearby laughed loudly at this.

"Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter," smirked Malfoy. "It'd be worth more than his family's whole house -"

"Look out!" Whispered Hermione behind them.

"What's all this, what's all this?" Gilderoy Lockhart had appeared. "Who's giving out signed photos?"

His eyes followed the children in front of him and landed on Harry.

"Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry! Come on then, Mr. Creevey," said Lockhart, beaming at Colin. "A double portrait, can't do better than that, and we'll both sign it for you"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Sir," Mel started, but Lockhart only laughed.

"Oh, it's all good, Miss. Would you like to join?"

Mel stepped back quickly as Colin took the picture, speechless.

"Off you go, move along there," Lockhart moved, taking Harry with him.

Mel rushed to walk behind them, hearing Lockhart's delusional advice.

"A word to the wise, Harry. I covered up for you back there with young Creevey -if he was photographing me, too, your schoolmates won't think you're setting yourself up so much..."

Harry was in such a state that he couldn't even form proper sentences when they reached the castle, the boy was still bright red.

"Let me just say that handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career isn't sensible -looks a tad bigheaded, Harry, to be frank. There may well come a time when, like me, you'll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, but I don't think you're quite there yet."

He chuckled, patting Harry's shoulder and going to the front of the classroom.

The boy sat at the very end of the room, piling his books so that his face was completely covered, sinking even further on his chair.

"Cheer up, Glasses," Mel sat beside him, "Lockhart's a twat"

"You could've fried an egg on your face," said Ron as soon as he and Hermione joined in, "You'd better hope Creevey doesn't meet Ginny, or they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club."

"Shut up," snapped Harry.

Lockhart cleared his throat and the class went silent, waiting for him.

"Me," he said, "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most- Charming-Smile Award - but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

"Yeah, we can tell you hate being the center of attention," Mel mumbled under her breath.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books -well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in -"

It was all nonsense.

'What is Gilderoy Lockhart 's favorite color?

What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?

What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?'

Mel even forgot what class she was supposed to be having, looking at the paper like it was a rather nasty-looking mandrake, she refused to answer the quiz and handed it back completely blank.

"Tut, tut - hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully - I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples - though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogdeds Old Firewhisky!"

Mel, -arms crossed and fighting against the need to throw the man her copy of Wandering with Werewolves- held the edge of her robe, she held tight to it, counting the minutes so she could leave the room.

"...but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions - good girl! In fact, full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"

Hermione raised a hand, she was shaking.

"Excellent!" beamed Lockhart. "Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor!"

He turned over to the next paper and his face fell.

"Now now, Miss Dumbledore?"

"Here," Mel said through greeted teeth, not bothering to raise her hand.

"You're so quiet I would never have guessed! " He let out a cheerful laugh, "Well no wonder why you're quiet... you're not exactly the brightest in your family tree, judging by this blank paper, are you? And not exactly photogenic... Either way, though I support your idea of remaining anonymous, I must ask you to put more effort in class"

"Not exactly-" Mel repeated in disbelief, unable to finish the sentence.

She saw Dean and Seamus, trying not to laugh a few desks in front of her.

"And so-" The man continued casually, "to business - Now be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

He'd taken a large cage from under his desk and put a hand over the think fabric covering it.

"I must ask you not to scream. It might provoke them," He then dropped the fabric, revealing what was inside, "yes, freshly caught Cornish pixies."

Seamus Finnigan burst out laughing.

"Yes?"

"Well, they're not - they're not very - dangerous, are they?" Seamus grinned.

"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be! Right, then, let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.

Mel would count this as the worst class she'd ever had in Hogwarts.

The pixies went mad, they flew around making a mess and breaking things, lifting Neville to the ceiling and ripping the pages from any book they could reach.

"Come on now -round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted.

Lavender and Parvati lost it, they were screaming in panic, hidden under their table.

"Peskipiksi Pesternomi!" Lockhart's spell did nothing to help them, it only made the Pixies angrier, one of them snatched's Lockhart's wand and threw it out the window. The wisest decision anyone'd ever made on Lockhart.

"Stop!" Mel yelled, covering her face so the pixies wouldn't scratch her, she was holding her wand, trying to come up with a spell, "I said, STOP!"

Just like last year, a wave burst out of her, a wind of energy hit a group of pixies, freezing them in place.

The bell rang and everyone rushed to the exit.

"Well," Lockhart looked at them since they hadn't left the room, "I'll ask you four to just nip the rest of them back into their cage."

"Can you believe him?" roared Ron as one of the remaining pixies bit him painfully on the ear.

"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," said Hermione, immobilizing two pixies at once with a clever Freezing Charm and stuffing them back into their cage.

"Hands on?" said Harry, who was trying to grab a pixie dancing out of reach with its tongue out. "Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing -"

"Rubbish," said Hermione. "You've read his books - look at all those amazing things he's done -"

"He says he's done," Ron muttered.

"Rubbish!" Mel threw one of Lockhart's books to the ground, "What excuse do you have for that ridiculous quiz? It hardly had anything to do with Dark Arts!"

"It was to break the ice!"

"He called me dumb! And unattractive!" Mel insisted, pointing her wand to a pair of pixies and immobilizing them, "Not that I care whether if I'm pretty or not, but that's just so unprofessional, Mione! Only Snape would do such a stupid comment during class... Oh, I'll do better in class alright, I'll do so much better..."

"Well, you may be right on that," Hermione said thoughtfully, "He did sound a bit rude, but I bet he didn't mean it. I am sorry that you got a bad grade on the quiz, though."

"I don't care about that bloody quiz," Mel closed the cage's door with a loud clang, "I won't care about this class at all as long as he keeps giving it. He's completely useless. I refuse to come back"

Hermione's eyes widened.

"You don't really mean that, Mel-"

The girl walked up to their table and grabbed her bag, walking straight to the door.

"Watch me."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@tiphareth2018 @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @celestialhayi @mikariell95 @omiwashere​ @thesuitelifeofafangirl​

[wexhappyxfew]

HAPPY TRIVIA TUESDAY SHANNON!! Why did you start writing and how did you get from your starting point to here? (Like- basically can you talk about your development as a writer?)

AHHHHH JAMIE HAPPY TRIVIA TUESDAY!!!! and omg thank you so much for the ask you wonderful human, you’re such a supportive bean thank you!!! <3 

and these questions *chef’s kiss*

One of the main reasons I started writing is actually something people may not suspect. Growing up, I actually HATED writing because of experiences in a 3rd grade or 2nd grade class - I can’t remember exactly. But we were supposed to write a short story and when I presented mine, I was told that it didn’t have good enough ‘context’ or a real drive or plot, even though for me I thought it did. Supposedly it just ‘wasn’t what the hopes of writing a short story would be’. I was later told it was because I needed a simpler topic. Smh. So that set me off really and all through elementary I strayed from writing, writing classes, anything and I mostly just read because I was like just not confident at all with writing. And I struggled big time with essays, reports, story writing. In 6th grade, my ELA teacher tore apart my story as well - so yeah I wasn’t exactly happy about that either :( I was already off on a bad foot. 

But when I reached 7th grade - this was after my best friend introduced me to Wattpad and such - I started seeing the impacts of fanfiction actually and that you can base it off something and then make it completely your own! WHICH I LOVED! Because I like a bit of structure BUT THEN I LIKE GOING WILD!!! I like having that model a bit, but then being able to go and do what you want with writing. 

And honestly, I’ll be honest, I have written over 20 different works, but Band of Brothers is my only published work :) It’s short stories, other fics based on stuff like Stars Wars, The Maze Runner, etc...a bunch of stuff like that! 

And then I really discovered the impact of writing on me. I found that it became a hobby for me and I knew that when homework was done - I had the ability to go and write and escape to a completely different world. And for me, since I have trouble focusing in school and then it makes stuff more difficult to complete homework and such, I liked being able to escape to a different world through writing. And writing saved me more than anything in quarantine.

At the beginning of quarantine, I just was not in a good headspace especially with everything happening, but being able to go and write The Soldier of Stars with Hazel Parker, and being able to develop a deeply flawed character and write interactions with others, and then go and write a strong female bonded friendship as well as strong female characters who were also deeply flawed, really helped me through because it was rough. I don’t know what I would’ve done without it. 

But writing truly, I saw a change in myself even in school. Because of writing fanfiction really, I saw improvements in my essays at school surprisingly by 8th grade! They were used for examples, I was getting good grades on them - even if it were just a science report - and the teachers were complimenting my way of writing and my style. I remember in 8th grade I was partnered with a girl, where we were given 10 vocab words and had to create a story with it and we would share our stories with each other and I remember looking at me after I read it and saying, “ YOU wrote that? ITS AMAZING!” and she was just super shocked. And I think that’s where I really started writing after that tbh. 

Through high school I had major improvements and by my AP Lang Exam I took, I was nervous bc it was 45 mins for it, which isn’t exactly normal bc of COVID, but I was just like “Focus, you write FOR FUN for HOURS ON END, you can write for 45 minutes.” And that really focused me. And I got a 5 on the exam, which I was very happy about. But I swear it’s simply because of how much I write, and how OCD I am about making sure it is all perfect and up to my standards. I swear on it. Because with my writing, I like a flow and I feel if you don’t have a flow it just doesn’t work - and having a flow helped me AP exam bc without it, I would’ve done worse. But flow helps and being able to write with a flow helped more than anything! SO YES fanfiction helped earn me a good grade on my AP exam LOL

And for me writing has just been a place to express who I am. Sure, I like clothes, but most of the time for school, I’m too tired to try super hard and end up throwing on a sweatshirt and leggings and I’m not super talkative either, I’m quite shy. So writing, is where I really feel I can express myself and just BE myself. I can purely just write for fun and if people read it COOL! THANK YOU! But I’ve always written for myself, for personal enjoyment, and to see my characters, so when others love them, it’s always so nice!!! But writing has always been such a personal thing for me, and I love it more than anything in the world, where I feel I can truly express myself! <3

AND...my development as a writer is something I can definitely talk about!! <3

For me, each new story I write, I can see myself developing. Because when you start out, you’re not perfect - I SOOOO was not perfect - I wrote in 1st person (NO HATE AT ALL I JUST SUCK AT FIRST PERSON), I barely included any emotional value or ideas focused simply on timeline, I just wrote without second thought or really a care. But with Band of Brothers, I really developed. I write in 3rd person heavily, so I can explore different heads and emotions and character arcs, and ideas and interior monologue, which for a quiet person like me I LIVE FOR!

For Sunshine Soldier, I wrote with Charlotte Tarvers and developing her character, as she is someone who is very similar to myself, is something I have loved more than anything in this world. She’s my OG OC, my original little BoB Beeb. And her story I really focused on relationships and friendships of characters, simply because of what I was trying to portray with her of the fact she was a character who was called ‘Sunshine’ and loved everyone and was loved by everyone and was really that light in Easy. But in that story, I didn’t develop emotions (as I go back and reread) and descriptions as much as I wish I had. I feel there’s parts EVERYWHERE, where I could go in and add a little bit more of everything there

For The Soldier of Stars (+Ad Astra Per Aspera) I feel you see A BIG CHANGE in writing because this is where, with a quiet character like Hazel Parker who is heavily and deeply flaws, where we see the emotion and description that Sunshine Soldier misses at some points, comes out. Writing Hazel’s character (+that of Catherine and Lizzie and their bond) we focus more on an internal monologue, heavy and deep set emotions, and a constant questioning of reality from someone who is deeply hurt, and quiet and humble and soft-spoken like Hazel. And for me, there’s just so many lines in The Solider of Stars that I love with all my heart, because there are so filled with emotion and deep meaning and such and ACK I LOVE IT! One of my favorites is from Ad Astra Per Aspera - Chapter 4: The Little Bird, where all it is, is Hazel’s interior monologue after her wound. Her struggle and mental battle to simply stand and use the bathroom normally - from bed to bathroom and back. And there’s no present dialogue - very in character for Hazel, and simply just flashbacks and her mental mind having it’s own battle with having to constantly push herself to get over this fear and keep pushing herself to get better, to keep fighting. It’s a hard chapter, but so deeply beautiful of a raw struggle of simply being human.

And I feel with The Soldier of Stars (+Ad Astra) I felt myself simply just write with so much pure and raw emotion, which I held from Sunshine Solider a bit, even though Sunshine Soldier has A LOT I feel still LOL. But I definitely saw growth between these two stories, a whole lot, and I feel as I keep going I’ll just keep growing and growing with it all.

I feel with The Soldier of Stars (+Ad Astra ) I finally took the time and care to focus on my characters, and each of them individually, and really focus on emotions and feelings, which is something present in war for many and especially having a quiet character makes it easier I feel because they don’t say much but they FEEL so much. 

I would talk about Landslide - but I don’t want to get out of hand and spoil anything, so I’ll leave it at that for the moment <3 

I’ve just truly seen myself really develop and grow as any writer would and it has been so fun to see where my writing has taken me!! Thank you so much for the question Jamie, this was truly SUCH a good one to ask, because I can tell just a bit of my own story and personal struggle with it all. Thank you!!! <3

[remnantoforario]

What I learned from the RWBY Companion Pt. 2: Character Edition

So the first one of these ran a little longer than expected (Check it out here) so I decided to break it up into multiple posts.

Characters were designed with cosplay in mind.

Ruby was the first character created

Zwei happened because Monty and Kerry liked Corgis and wanted a dog in the show

Weiss is wealthier than 99% of people who have ever lived in Remnant

The party scene in V4 is Kara’s favorite Weiss moment

Weiss’ askew ponytail is her way of rebelling against her family

“Blake’s membership into the White Fang came from the best of intentions, during a time when her father held power and sought peace with humanity.”

Nice to see the DC Comic kept up with that.. 

“[Weiss and Blake] hated each other because they were like the Montagues and Capulets.”

Yet Blake and Yang supposedly go together…ok.

“…Personally, I’m hoping for Yang in the future. Everyone’s in love with Blake!”

You just couldn’t help it could you, Arryn?

Barbara Dunkelman knew about Yang’s arm from the beginning

The pullback of Yang’s elbow due to recoil is what reloads Ember Celica

Bumblebee (the motorcycle) runs on combustion dust and is filled with dust at stations like gasoline. (Again there is no gasoline on Remnant)

“To us, JNPR will always be main characters.”

Don’t we know it, Kerry

JNPR was one of the first side teams created, and was created mostly for comedy.

Jaune apparently tried to romance Pyrrha

This is news to me

Nora and Ren were originally described by Monty as “powerful woman” and “honorable warrior” respectively

Book has a typo about when the Nuceklavee stuff took place. It was V4 not 5

Team SSSN was created early on, but too complicated to introduce all at once so CRWBY just brought in Sun first

Monty’s character description for Sun was “abs”

Scarlet David was inspired by the novel “Peter Pan in Scarlet

His weapons, Hook and Darling, are a curved cutlass and a flintlock pistol with a grappling hook  

Sage Ayana was loosely inspired by Aesop Fables

His weapon, Pilgrim, is an oversized sword with roman numerals on the blade

Sun named Neptune’s weapon “Tri-Hard”, he didn’t get the joke until much later

Cardin was based on Cardinal Winchester who prosecuted Joan of Arc

Dove Bronzewing is CRDL’s “secret weapon”

Team CFVY were background characters until they became popular and were originally created to show what Team RWBY’s “next step” was

Lot of good that did

You can tell this was written before “After the Fall” came out because the only semblance shown for CFVY is Velvet’s.

Monty and Velvet’s VA (Caiti Ward) selected Velvet’s battle outfit out of over 1300 submissions from fans.

We still have much to learn about Team STRQ

Raven was created almost out of the blue by Monty.

Her blade, Omen, can extend to twice its normal length

There is no voice actor listed under Qrow’s name (surprise, surprise).

Vytal festival fights were for developing things not related to the plot.

Team FNKI happened while the team was waiting on renders to finish, while also exploring another side of Atlas

Penny went through many iterations before they decided on a final design

Taylor McNee (Penny’s VA) was also the modeler that broke her apart for the scene

Ozpin’s cane/weapon is called “Long Memory”

Oscar was brought in as the new “rookie” because Jaune “had been hardened and matured from battle”

Qrow is based on the Scarecrow from Wizard or Oz

Gylnda’s weapon is called “The Disciplinarian”

Her telekinesis has minor time altering properties that allow her to reassemble broken objects

Oobleck was originally going to be similar to the teacher from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off

Salems goons are based on literary characters gone wrong

Salem wants to absorb the powers of the Maidens

Then why does she need Cinder?

Salem gave Cinder her Grimm arm after the Fall of Beacon and saved her life through Grimm skin grafts.

How did Ruby’s Silver Eye attack hurt her if she didn’t have any Grimm inside her beforehand?

Tyrian, Watts, and Hazel existed beforehand, but weren’t shown until the cast was ready to deal with them

Cinder’s weapon is called “Midnight”

Her semblance is also kind of OP 

Hazel and his sister are based on Hansel and Gretel

Tyrian was based on the parable “The Scorpion and the Frog”

Tyrian is Kim Newman’s favorite character to animate

Watts is essentially Watson if he partnered with Moriarty instead of Sherlock Holmes

In production, Roman Torchwick started as a kid, something scary, and then a clown before they finalized his design.

Torchwick is based on Lampwick from Pinocchio

Torchwick’s death had been in the works for a while to punctuate the “game had changed” and no one was safe on either side.

Sarah Silverman was originally supposed to play Neopolitan but the deal never went through 

Monty added Neo to the mech fight in V2 without telling anyone. 

Neo’s semblance came about simply because Monty was lazy and didnt want to animate Neo and Roman escaping via air ship.

Emerald’s weapons are called “Thief’s Respite”

Mercury’s weapons are called “Talaria”

Adam is loosely based on Gaston

“Adam thinks he deserve’s Blake’s admiration and love, but these are things he hasn’t earned. Adam is a control freak and emotionally manipulative.

Good thing the DC Comic stuck to that. 

Adam must channel his attack into one slice when using Moonslice

Sienna’s weapon is called “Cerberus Whip”

Jason Douglas voices Jacques Schnee

Now it all fits. Now all I’ll hear is Gildarts and Beerus.

Winter took the brunt of the abuse from the Schnee parent’s before joining the military.

Weiss’ mother still doesn’t have a name

[itsclydebitches]

Welcome back, everyone! 

We’re now on Chapter Eight and once again the story is told from Velvet’s perspective. So our starting question is: why is she getting the most attention so far? If memory serves, the PoV order has been Coco, Velvet, Sun, Fox, Yatsu, Velvet, Scarlet, Velvet again — meaning that in a text balancing eight main characters, so far four of them have received a single chapter, two (Sage and Neptune) zero chapters, and one three chapters. That seems rather imbalanced. I suppose it makes a certain amount of sense if we factor in RWBY viewers’ familiarity with Velvet, but I’d wager we’ve gotten far more screen time with Sun overall. My only point being, why Velvet? It’s not that you can’t make her a focal point of the narrative, I just haven’t seen anything to explain that choice in the first 100+ pages. Her perspective hasn’t brought anything unique to the story, something we couldn’t have gotten from the seven other characters involved in these events… but here we are, back with Velvet for the next six pages.

Yeah, this chapter is short. Silver lining?

We learn that Team NOVA is on their second mission — why bother showing us the first when they’re an entirely new, volatile team, right? That would be silly! — escorting a technician “through the Grimm-infested mountains just outside of Oscuro Combat School.” So Shade students regularly conduct real huntsmen work but throw a fit over having to spar with one another? Interesting. See, if I were a civilian who got even a glimpse of what goes on inside these schools, I would not trust these kids with my life. 

Lo and behold, things go horribly! We learn right off the bat that “The technician had been knocked unconscious in a skirmish with a band of Dromedons.” For those of you with an iffy memory like mine, these are the camel-like creatures that spit acid and… that’s about all we know about them. That’s really all we need for this scene though because this grimm nailed the tech in his leg, a wound which now requires “serious medical attention.” Great. Gus Caspian, who I learn is a younger friend from the previous novel, is trying to treat the wound as best he can, clearly a little freaked out about being here, “but apparently Oscuro teachers didn’t coddle students any more than Theodore did.”

Do you expect them to? Despite Atlas being the only one who combines their academies with their military, we can’t pretend like these schools aren’t teaching teenagers to wield deadly weapons and kill things with them. There’s no institution on Earth (or Remnant) that should “coddle” those looking to take on that responsibility. I mean yeah, we had moments where Ozpin encouraged them to be kids, like after the food fight and during the dance, but he still took a hard stance whenever there was an actual lesson in the works: “No. You will be falling.” Based on the age of the students, the academies are akin to colleges. In real world college if you don’t do your work or don’t pay attention in class, well… nothing that bad happens. This is by no means a call to not do you work, merely an acknowledgement from a formerly grade obsessed student that individual test scores really don’t have the impact on your life that it feels like they will at the time. Trust me on this. So yeah, some leeway is great in the real world… but when the students are fighting monsters and defending others from death? Then the schools should absolutely discourage any slacker-esque attitude. The concept of any institution “coddling” huntsmen is horrifying. 

Note though that the chapter starts after all the action has taken place. We skip the rest of reinitiation. We skip NOVA’s first mission. We skip the attack that landed Velvet in this predicament. It’s not automatically a bad technique provided you’re skipping over boring parts to get to the interesting bits… but this isn’t interesting. We learn almost nothing new from this scene: Velvet misses her old team, her new teammates don’t believe in her, Nebula is mean. Those are the emotional beats here — things we’ve known for at least three chapters now. The only thing that’s introduced is the advertisement on Gus’ scroll, which could have been been added to any other scene.

Let’s revise a bit: 

We get to see the battle against the Dromedons wherein Velvet uses her camera, revealing her weapon to Team NOVA and earning more of their respect. Information about Gus’ improvement is shown through his combat abilities as he’s unexpectedly chucked into this battle (perhaps with him using his semblance to further his growth there too). While taking a hit he loses his scroll, slightly damaging it. In the aftermath Velvet retrieves it for him and finds this ad displayed, growing curious. Over the course of Gus’ explanations the rest of Team NOVA is clued into Velvet’s worry and suspicion. What’s wrong? It’s just an ad. But you’re clearly hiding something… Now, does she tell her new team about the Crown, or keep it silent and risk the tenuous trust they’ve just created?

Why is Myers skipping over all the action and potential growth?

Instead we get the boring stuff. Velvet admires Gus’ uniform because of how it’s built for the heat and recalls that “Coco had been messing around with new outfit designs for Team CFVY.” I swear though, 95% of my enjoyment with this novel comes from the throwaway details. I would actually like seeing how Coco combines her personal love of fashion with the necessity of designing combat gear appropriate for the environment. Maybe they frame it as merely a hobby outside of their huntsmen work, giving them an excuse to keep helping their former teammates. That could be cool! 

Though of course, this is the series where Cinder, Neo, Hazel, and Emerald all walk into the ice Kingdom with skin bared, so...

(You all are going to freeze to death, have fun.) 

“Velvet’s ears swiveled around, listening for danger.” That’s anything detail I like. At the very least Before the Dawn remembers that Velvet is a faunus and frequently incorporates that into her character. She’s on the lookout because other than Gus tending the unconscious technician, she’s alone “on the sidelines.” It’s framed simultaneously as the group rejecting her and as an unavoidable necessity: “it wasn’t like she didn’t have an important task of her own [repairing the relay], one that none of her teammates had the expertise to perform.”

Wait. Why does Velvet have this expertise?

The justification is that she’s “handy with electronics” and “Anesidora was incredibly complicated, and she’d designed it herself,” but that’s like saying “I built a computer so I’ll come fix your refrigerator. That’s easier.” I don’t know, maybe someone with the ability to build a computer from the ground up could figure out a refrigerator on the fly, but they feel like different skill-sets to me. All electronics are not built the same and claiming that because you understand one you automatically understand all others — even supposedly simpler pieces of tech — seems a little suspect. If that were the case, we’d have no need for experts who fix your phone, your television, your toaster, and your watch. Surely if you understand one you understand the others, right? It’s the same assumption here: If Velvet can understand building a hard light weapon, then she must understand relay communications too!

…right.

She even goes so far as to say that they “probably should have left the technician at Oscuro—she could have done this on her own” yet just a few minutes later it’s, “Velvet double-checked everything. She didn’t know what was wrong. She glanced back at the technician, Gus still at his side. The guy was out cold. He’d taken a pretty hard knock to the head. Well, she had tried.” So she’s confident enough to think that the technician is unnecessary one moment and then looking to him for help the next? Which of course isn’t followed by any sort of revelation. Velvet doesn’t acknowledge that her knowledge isn’t as specialized as she had assumed it was, or that huntsmen rely on non-combat experts for other things. She just shrugs and…

…kicks it.

Yeah. Velvet’s skill amounts to kicking the box until it works. Which, of course, it does. 

I can’t with this novel.

More seriously though, that’s terrible characterization. Not only does it undermine Velvet’s actual skill to reduce it to being “handy with electronics” — isn’t every huntsmen “handy with electronics” then, considering they all build their gun/energy/dust weaponry in school? — but it adds another layer of supposed uselessness to the adult professionals around her. Theodore doesn’t teach them anything because, as their headmaster, he’s removed from everyday interactions. Rumpole can’t be trusted now and every lesson she tries to impart is rejected. The unnamed technician who is referred to only by his professional title is deemed unnecessary, knocked out, and then indeed proves useless when Velvet magically does his job for him. So why are any of them in school? Why aren’t they just running the world with their superior knowledge and skill-sets? Every time the RWBY franchise puts its characters in a position where they might actually learn something through failure, it pulls back at the last second. ‘Never mind, they actually knew this all along!’ Or, ‘Never mind, the things they’ve been taught are stupid, so best to forget them!’ I struggle to understand what kind of story I’m reading — or watching — when the characters are already framed as perfect. Or rather, flaws absolutely exist (as these recaps attest), but the story pretends they’re not there. 

I hesitate to use the term “Mary Sue” here due to its origins and history. Meaning, the Mary Sue was conceived of as a parody, a deliberate exaggeration to comment on the types of characters written in the Star Trek fandom. Then people began using “Mary Sue” as a catch-all term for any female character that people deemed too talented (regardless of how talented their male counterparts might be), we started acknowledging the sexist undertones of that, then started reclaiming the term as something to celebrate and embrace… but we haven’t quite gotten there yet. “Mary Sue” is still a pretty loaded name to force on a character and it carries a lot of implications that I absolutely do not want to attach to Velvet. Yet it’s also the closest term I know to describe the act of an author giving a character what feels like a badly justified skillset. Such as “handy with technology” actually meaning “can fix anything powered by electricity or Dust as the plot needs.” 

Velvet is the action movie hacker going, “I’m in” is what I’m getting at. It’s not a compliment lol.

During all this grimm watching and relay fixing, Gus wants to know why they don’t just high-tail it out of there. Especially since the person they brought to do a specific job can no longer do that job. Mission’s a bust. Velvet gives what sounds like a decent explanation: “Retreating from Grimm isn’t an option when you’re fighting this close to a settlement. If we leave without destroying them, the Grimm will just look for another target.” AKA the settlement itself. 

Thing is, by this logic any grimm that are currently close enough to attack them are already close enough to the settlement to latch onto those people as the next target. They’d pick up on the civilians whether Velvet’s group was there to kill them or not. The group is there though, so they feel responsible, but why not just head to the settlement anyway? If the grimm follow you, fine. You can still fight them AND you now get the additional benefit of any other huntsmen/students who might be there. If they don’t follow you, great. If they were close enough to the settlement all along… again, this was always going to happen. 

Which, to be clear, isn’t the worst stance to take. I understand them wanting to avoid any potential risk by leaving/leading the grimm towards anyone else. I only want to point out the additional stupidity of fighting them when you’ve already got an unconscious civilian in your care, a barely trained student, and the whole reason you came out here might now be for naught. Yeah, Velvet gets the relay working with her magic kick and yeah, the rest of the team handles the grimm just fine, but none of them are able to see into the future and know that both these events will occur. Gus’ ‘Why are we staying here? It’s dangerous and pointless’ question has merit.

But of course, no one in RWBY would ever consider retreat. It’s a very iffy characteristic at this point. 

We learn — or at least I learn now — that Gus’ semblance is the ability to enhance others’ emotions, so basically the opposite of Ren’s. That would indeed be incredibly handy provided he has good control over it. We get another reference to Yatsuhashi’s “meditation exercises” that helped Gus’ grandfather in the last novel. Velvet theorizes that his improved memory has more to do with Yatsuhashi’s semblance than any generic meditation: “No one knew for sure what Yatsuhashi had done with his Semblance when he’d tried to heal Edward’s mind … even Yatsuhashi wasn’t sure. His ability was to erase memories, but it was possible that there was more to Yatsu’s Semblance than that.” Um… subtle yikes? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad things have turned out well for the guy, but if I were the grandfather—or a family member of his—I wouldn’t really want a student messing around with my mind when he “wasn’t sure” what he was doing. Especially when the base skill is to erase memories, not recover or strengthen them. Honestly, I love taking a good look at fantasy series because half the time you realize how horrifying things actually are, once you strip away the common place aspects of these skills. An equivalent third year college student is running around experimenting with peoples’ memories to see if he can achieve something other than erasing them. Great!

The good thing is that Yatsuhashi is just as suspicious of this power as I am. Velvet things that he “hated messing with people’s minds.” Understandable, bud. I’d hate the ability too.

While they’ve got this time alone, Gus mentions that he had planned to contact Velvet soon anyway. Two of his classmates have gone missing and though his school has told Shade about it—there’s at least some of that additional info that Rumpole mentioned—he wanted to let her know too because remember, no one in this franchise trusts the professionals to fix problems. It’s a mindset I’d better understand if the professionals were actually inept. Or the protagonists weren’t training to be those professionals. It’s still exceedingly weird to me that there’s so little respect and trust for huntsmen while they desperately try to become huntsmen…

Something something broken systems, but RWBY isn’t interested in exploring that. 

So yeah, Gus ropes Velvet in with the hope that she can help. He says that they were last seen attending a new club called Mirage that hosts one-on-one fights for a championship title. So… it’s not really a club, right? Sure, sure, we’ve all seen Fight Club, but generally that’s used to describe dancing, not fighting. It’s a rather misleading term for what they were actually looking for. No one else finds this odd though. Nor that the information was sent out to select, powerful individuals. Nothing shady about this, folks! Velvet obviously recognizes all these details—a club, powerful semblances, a crown in the advertisement—and asks Gus to pass it along to her.

Our plot forwarded ever so slightly, their conversation ends as Arslan calls Velvet on the now fixed connection. One of the first thing she says is that Octavia used the other students as bait for the grimm.

At least Velvet shares my reaction: “What?!”

Octavia then takes an already bad situation and makes it that much worse. Listening in, she defiantly says, “That’s right. And it worked. It’s called strategy.” She confirms that the students are “mostly” okay and taunts Velvet about inviting them to her “Baby Brigade and you can all cry about it!” I hope I don’t need to take up precious document space by explaining how awful this is. Overlooking the fact that these would-be huntsmen are willing to put their younger peers’ lives in danger like that—and then mock them for needing mental health resources after the fact—why is Octavia the one pulling the murderous Mean Girl act? Yeah, she was an asshole during reinitiation, but wasn’t the whole point of that to demonstrate that she and Velvet got a little closer? Even if she won’t admit it? She saved Velvet from flying down that hole, but now she risks the lives of students at least three years her junior? If anyone should be this violent and antagonistic towards Velvet, it’s Nebula. The most she’s done for Velvet is offer a hand up, otherwise we just watched her express glee in getting to fight her and mock her for not abandoning Beacon… the same sort of behavior we’re seeing from Octavia now. Does Myers think that these two characters are interchangeable? That he can just pick one willy-nilly per chapter and let her play at being Velvet’s Mean Girl?

As a lovely anon reminded me recently, these are also the girls that were created and backed by fans. If I had put money and creative energy into these OCs, I’d be pretty frustrated with how the RT team has been treating them.

Arslan at least is complimentary towards Velvet for fixing the relay—“Truly, great work today”— and Velvet herself is appropriately shocked at Octavia’s behavior. That’s more emotional consistency than I’ve come to expect of this book, so I’ll take whatever little bits I can get.

Arslan signs off with plans to meet back up soon and Velvet thinks about how “everyone was safe after the mission, which was no small thing.” I’d agree… except for Velvet’s early thoughts about how easy this mission supposedly was and Octavia’s decision to put her teammates in danger. It sounds like if anything did go sideways, it’s in part because you chose to enter this overconfidently and then actively made it more dangerous.

Finally, the chapter ends with Velvet believing that she might be able to make her new team work with time. Our final line, in its own paragraph is: “If they had time.”

Am I the only one who finds this weird? The line reads like an omniscient bit of foreboding. Velvet thinks about how she just needs time and we, the reader, hear that this won’t be possible. Except this chapter is told from Velvet’s perspective. So why does she think they might not have time? Because of the Crown? I assume there will be an attack towards the end of the novel—can’t have a RWBY story without the final, epic battle—but right now Velvet has no reason to believe that an attack is imminent, or that the teams will change back, or anything else that would interfere with her hopes of strengthening this relationship… so why the rather confident sounding pessimism? I don’t know. I don’t pretend to know anymore lol.

At least this chapter was short? As said, silver linings. We’re still treading water though: Velvet’s bond with her new team seems to have regressed after two missions, rather than improved, and Gus didn’t reveal anything we didn’t already know, just further confirmed it. I assume that next chapter Velvet and the others will visit Mirage. Let’s hope something actually happens then. 

See you! 💜

[Ko-Fi]

[beanfic]

New Roommates - Ch.1

Word Count: 1715

Warnings: Talk of a loss of a parent and some soft angst about moving.

Author’s Note: Here it is! My official entry for Kansas’ YouAU challenge! This series is going to be in the first person from MY PERSPECTIVE! It was quite the experience of writing about myself, but I hope you enjoy!

I glanced up from the marble sink to look at myself in the toothpaste-stained mirror in front of me. This was going to be the last time I ever looked at myself in this crappy motel-like apartment that I had been sharing with a cousin and an aunt of mine. 

I had just moved to Ohio about a month ago - all the way from Portland, Oregon -  with my Mom and we ended up moving in with my Mom’s sister and daughter. I shouldn’t be complaining about their apartment, but I am definitely not upset about moving out. Even if my Mom doesn’t want me to, but it was about time I grew up and moved out! I am a 23-year-old anyways.

Today I was finally moving in with my new roommates that I had found on craigslist. Yes, you heard that right. Craigslist. My mom wasn’t very happy either when I told her, but it was the best I could do with the budget I had. I was desperate to get away from my overbearing mom.

Their craigslist ad didn’t seem too sketchy either! It was three boys all around my age, two musicians and a videographer. It seemed like a good fit for me being an amateur photographer. The pictures of the apartment also seemed very nice. Much nicer than our current living situation. 

I think my mom was happy to be moving out of my Aunt’s home as well, even though she is moving with her Mom, but that is because my Grandmother is not doing the best healthwise. That was the reason why we moved out here to Ohio actually. My Aunt told my Mom that she was done with “taking care of my grandmother by herself”, and because my Mom is a very caring person we packed up and headed out to the wonderful state of Ohio. 

It’s not like Ohio is a bad place. I have been here multiple times because my family was based here on my Mom’s side, but Portland has always been home for me. It was where my Dad had grown up, and we would always go hiking together, but unfortunately, he had passed away from cancer when I was in middle school, so it has just been my Mom and me since then. Now that I am 23, I am ready to grow up and move on with my life as an independent woman!

“You can do this Sav,” I whispered to myself as I narrowed my eyes towards the brown-haired girl in the mirror staring back at me. My hair was tied half up with a black scrunchie and I wasn’t wearing any face makeup besides for some eyebrow product and mascara.

I usually didn’t give myself pep talks in the mirror, but this certain life event required one. I never thought that I would be moving out and moving in with strangers in a state you had just moved to, but I guess there is a first for everything?

I thought back to the first time I had met the boys. They invited me to a pizza parlor that was right down their street, and I was not really expecting them to look like what they did. When I saw the names Tyler, Josh and Mark on the ad I was expecting some jock looking guys but instead it was three guys who were some of the nicest human beings I had ever met. 

I remembered that Tyler had shaken my hand first and introduced everyone else. He rubbed me as sort of the leader of the trio. Mark seemed like the funny one, and Josh was quieter. He definitely was the cutest out of all of them, but I already told myself that I am not going to fall for any of these men. They were my roommates. Potential friends. Not a potential romantic interest. 

“Ready to head out?” my Mom’s high pitched voice called out from the bathroom door. 

“Just a second!” I looked back up at myself. I focused on my hazel eyes for a brief second before turning away and grabbing my bag that was filled with all my toiletries and bathroom goodies. My Mom was standing on the outside of the bathroom door with my three suitcases. One was filled with my clothes, the other filled with my blankets and trinkets, the last one was filled with anything else that wasn’t too breakable and didn’t fit into one of the boxes.

The nice thing about moving into an apartment that already has people living in it is that all I need is my bedroom and bathroom stuff since they have everything else! It was much easier to do this compared to first packing up an entire house when I moved to Portland.

The car ride over to the apartment was awkwardly quiet. I sat in the passenger seat with my Mom in the drivers. I looked out the window and counted the number of trees I saw. There were 32 until we turned into the apartment complex. It wasn’t too far away, which was nice, I suppose. 

Fortunately, their apartment was on the top level so we did not have to listen to any footsteps above our heads, and the three-level of staircases weren’t too bad either. I opened the car door once my mom had parked and stretched a little before grabbing my suitcases and a couple of boxes from the car. A moving truck was coming in about twenty minutes with my all my bedroom furniture and other various boxes that could not fit in the car. 

“Sav!” a familiar voice called out from above me. I squinted and looked up to see Tyler leaning over the railing on their small balcony. 

“Hey, Tyler!” I waved back.

“Mark and I will be down in just a second to help you!” He turned around and vanished. I looked over at my mom to see her reaction to seeing Tyler for the first time and she just smiled. 

“He seems very nice!”

“He is! All of them are! I told you I was going to be fine.”

“I know, but you are all I have so of course I worry!” She leaned over to give me a small one-armed side hug. The sound of footsteps rushing down the metal stairs became louder and louder until the two boys were standing in front of you. 

“Mark! Tyler! This is my mom,” I introduced them all and watched as my mom shook their hands carefully. I finished grabbing my items from the car while they exchanged some typical adult conversation.

“Well, I guess this is it! Are you sure you don’t need my help?” My mom asked and I nodded.

“They can help me once the movers get here! I promise I will be okay. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, I love you!”

“I love you too, Mom.” I wrapped my arms around her one last time before she headed out. It was weird officially moving out. I was going to miss my mom, but I know this was going to be really good for me. 

“Here, I can carry these two boxes if you get those two suitcases,” Mark told Tyler. They started heading up the stairs and I followed behind. 

“Thank you for helping me!” 

“Of course! We are here whenever you need it!” Mark called back.

“Oh! I need to introduce you to Kae!” Tyler turned around and gave me a wink.

“Who is Kae?”

“His girlfriend,” Mark answered for him.

“Partner. Their pronouns are they/them so if you could try your best to respect that, it would be awesome because apparently somebody can’t!” Tyler glared up at Mark who was stopped on a step to take a breather.

“Sorry! I’m getting better I promise! But they’re the coolest, I bet you will get along with them!” Mark explained. I got nervous about meeting somebody for the first time, but maybe it would also be nice to have another friend that wasn’t somebody I live with. 

“Why is Josh not helping?” I asked.

“I think he was taking a nap, he was out pretty late last night.”

“Yeah, partying,” Tyler interrupted.

“He parties a lot,” Mark explained. 

“Y/N!” sang a cheerful voice from the door to the apartment. Kae stood in the doorframe smiling and waving down to me. “I’m so glad I get to finally meet you!” 

“Hi Kae!” Once I got to the top of the stairs I placed my bags down and smiled towards them. “Can I give you a hug?”

“Thank you for asking first, yes of course!” Kae’s arms wrapped around mine as we embraced. 

“Not gonna lie, I already feel so much more comfortable even though I have known you for, what two seconds?” I admitted. 

“They have that impact,” Tyler added on, meeting you at the top of the stairs. Kae smiled sheepishly. 

“I heard that you are fairly new to Columbus so I decided that I will take you to all the coolest spots!!” Kae clapped their hands excitedly. They opened the door all the way so I could bring my bags in. 

The apartment opened up straight into the living room. There was one long gray couch facing a decent-sized television. There were also two blue beanbags on the ground. Behind the couch was the kitchen table. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a rectangular wooden table. 

Behind the table on one side was the sliding glass doors to the small balcony. There were two planters out there filled with various succulents. On the other side of the kitchen table was the kitchen.

The kitchen was small, and not the cleanest, but it was still better than the previous kitchen I had been forced to cook in. There were stools next to the counter which looked like they were made DIY, or fixed up, who knows. 

There were two hallways both with two bedrooms. Tyler and Mark’s bedrooms were down the left hallway, while mine was down the right hallway from the front door. My room was right across Josh’s, and I had to share a bathroom with him. 

Josh didn’t seem like a bad person to have as a bedroom neighbor. 

Hopefully.

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tag list: Tag list: @takenvysleep @fromcalmto-ill @svintsandghosts @reginawashere15 @breadbinishigh @ohprettyweeper

[apathycares]

Interlude

Chapter Summary: In this part, we breeze through the beginning and the end of Dio and Sandy's "tryst".

Warnings: Dio lol

Pairings: implied Dio x Sandy (OC), implied Jonathan x Sandy (OC)

[England, 1882, Joestar Mansion Ball]

Sandy Wilmarth jiggled the chain of tags on her wrist, wondering if she'd be able to dance with enough party-goers to fill them all up. Her tyrannical mother had finally relented and let her go with them, therefore she had to try her utmost to get as much dances as she could.

"You must not dance too often or too little, Miss Wilmarth." Her mother said as they exited the cloak room. "If you are unfortunate enough as to not get an invitation, inform me at once - I'll introduce you to some high caliber gentlemen."

Sandy strained her face to prevent herself from rolling her eyes. That was the only reason she wanted to fill up her cards, for her mother to shut up for once. High caliber men were hardly an interest to her.

"Also," her mother started when she received no response. "Mr. Joestar recently adopted a whelp off the streets, for charity I believe. He's a fair-haired boy, but he's still beneath us. His name is Dio Brando. I better not catch you entertaining him."

"But why?"

Mrs. Wilmarth walked off without a word, leaving Sandy in a huff of indignation. How was she supposed to ask for dances again? Having sailed through a couple books on ball etiquette the week leading up to tonight, she had yet to find how to invite someone to a dance.

'Should I wait for someone to approach me? What do I do till then?'

Her eyes traversed the room intently, noting her mother had dissolved into a gaggle of women already. Sandy began to walk aimlessly, in faux confidence, mulling on whether she should slip into the safety of the women off the dance floor like her mother had, or park herself near the refreshments. Was she allowed to drink anyways?

"Good evening Miss, shall I have the pleasure of dancing with you?”

Sandy turned around in a flurry of lace and tulle, unbelieving that the invitation was for her, only to find a gentleman assuming the perfect position according to her research - he stood at a proper distance, not too close yet not far enough to leave question to whom he was addressing. His body was bent gracefully, accompanied by a slight motion of the right hand towards her, but his eyes...they were respectful yes, but hardly good-natured.

His amber eyes were absolutely vicious, daring her to refuse.

Without dignifying him with a response, she placed a tag in his outstretched arm, a perfect picture of nonchalance. Sandy would not refuse him - she had a goal to meet - however, she would be damned if she let some boy run her over when he didn't even know her name.

While she was preoccupied ranting in her head, he had fished out a pen from his coat and scribbled down his name on the tag before handing it back to her to hold onto on her chain. The purpose of the chain of tags was to keep track of accepted invitations between sets. They had to wait for the current dance set to end. She expected him to leave her for now and ask any other attending ladies as well, but he merely stepped next to her and watched the dance.

"Is this your first dance?" Sandy asked, trying not to meet his eyes as the books recommended.

"What makes you say that?"

She furrowed her eyebrows. What a disagreeable man. "Most men wouldn't waste their time watching others dance, at least, according to my research."

"Oh? And what does your research claim?"

"You're supposed to either entertain your partner, or invite more ladies to dance." Sandy faced him this time, noting his arms behind his back and his face bent closer than what she anticipated, but she refused to cower and pull back. "You're green because you disregarded both practices."

"Well, however accurate that may be, you're wrong to assume that I'm like most men."

Just as Sandy started laughing at his gall, and his face fell at her audacity, another man had joined their little party. He assumed position immediately, ignoring her first partner's burning gaze as he stretched his arm out. "Hello, I'm Jonathan Joestar, will you favor me with your hand for this or the next dance?” Jonathan lowered himself a little more, awaiting her response.

Two invites before the set ended? Sandy was elated. But as she was fumbling with her tags, before she could say anything, her first partner walked off without a backwards glance.

"Hmph, you can have her, JoJo." Was his parting words.

Jonathan jumped to comfort her when he sees her confused expression. "Don't worry about him, Miss...?"

"Sandy..." she trailed off, watching where he disappeared to so she could follow him. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jonathan, but I accepted that gentleman first. Maybe, the next dance?"

"Y-yes, of course Sandy."

She smiled graciously, pulling out one of her tags for him to write his name. Jonathan pats around his pockets and coats for a moment, before pulling out a pen and sighing in relief. Sandy giggled a little as he wrote his name in a fluster. Replacing it back on her wrist, she curtsied. "I'll find you when I'm done."

"All right..."

With that, Sandy dives between the attendees, rushing to the hallway the man disappeared into. The orchestra were drawing to the end of their song, so if she wanted his dance, she needed to get him quickly.

A panicked running later, she finds him in a secluded study room, looking through the selection of books on the shelves. He turned towards her as she huffed, an irritated look marring his face.

"The next set is about to begin." She said.

He raised his eyebrow. "So?"

Sandy pulled herself together and sailed gracefully towards him, her cordial expression dropped into the hard look her mother would fuss about, and by the flicker in his amber eyes, the affect was still there. "So, does your invitation still stand?"

"You can dance with JoJo, don't bother with me."

"Oh, I will." She held back a scoff when his eyes practically thunder for a moment in indignation. "But you asked me first, and I accepted. Will you humble me with a dance -" She pulls up her wrist and searches for his tag. "...Dio Brando?"

Dio smirked, approaching her languidly after slipping his book back in its place. "You seem to be overly interested in me, girl. I'm beginning to question your intentions..."

Now, she scoffed. "It doesn't concern me if you do, but if it matters, it's my first ball and I would like to dance as much as I can."

"Hmm." His smirk widened.

They could hear the customary applause for the orchestra, indicating the end of the set, and this further prompted her to lift her skirts, ready to leave at a moment's notice. Dio made no sign of moving, so Sandy did what her manners allowed her to do. She curtsied and left him be. To her surprise, she felt a hand on hers, and turned to see him watching her hawkishly.

"Perhaps one dance won't hurt." He admonished, his lip twitching when she intertwined their fingers coolly. "You seem to be pretty stubborn, woman."

"My name is Sandy." She shot him a look clearly warning him to quit calling her anything but. "We better hurry, Mr. Brando."

With that, she tugged him out of the room and then down the hall, but as they slipped into the people, he spun her around dramatically and guided them into position, expertly avoiding clashing into the other couples. He smirked boyishly when she blinked.

The orchestra broke into song once again, and the ballroom thralled into life. Couples swayed around them in a blur of skirts and coattails under the shimmering lights, forcing each other into one position after another, while Dio somehow managed to hold their space and pull her away before someone caught her skirt under their shoe. He was an extremely good dancer, she concluded.

"You're competent enough." He said.

"Am I now? It seems like you're doing most of the work."

Dio chuckled, spinning her like it was a reward for her admission. "I meant as a follower. It takes two to dance, one should be willing to follow for it to work well, don't you think?"

"Appears so."

"Would you say you're a follower, Sandy?"

"Not entirely."

"Do you not wish to converse with me during this dance?"

Sandy finally raised her head, meeting his eyes. "You didn't give me a chance to respond properly yet."

"You sounded like you were done speaking though." Dio pointed out, searching her eyes in the meantime as she seemingly struggled to find her words. "Your eyes are entrancing. What is this colour called? Green with a burst of brown and gold?"

"It's hazel, did you see what I did there?" Sandy grinned when he raised a brow. "It's a psychological trick. You keep quiet for a bit and the other person'll scramble to fill the silence. The interesting point about it is that it's usually honest thoughts."

Dio's jaw slackened a little.

"Neat huh? I read that somewhere and thought I'd try it on you." She giggled as his eyes narrowed and his steps sharpened. "Tell me, Mr. Brando, would you consider me a follower?"

"Hmph, you're bloody stubborn." Dio pulled her closer, riding the fine line between appropriate and blasphemous teasingly. "In this dance, you're a follower. I wouldn't say your inherent nature is though."

"That means we won't get along at all. What a shame."

"....what makes you say that?"

She was very nearly relaxed in his arms. "You're the type to always take initiative, aren't you? You're a leader by nature too." Dio perked up at this. "Although, I don't agree with your position. I can understand it, but I can't agree."

"Why not, my dear?"

"You need to be able to let go to live a peaceful life."

Something stirred a little in his chest at her words. For the first time that night, Dio looked at her. Her face was bare of any unnecessary expression, a picture of perfect mystery, her entire air left him both comfortable and on edge - how that was possible, added more to her enigma.

"I'll save you for now," Sandy smiled when his expression became defensive. "I just realized something - are you the one who moved in with the Joestars?"

Dio's eyes flared at the name, his last fight with Jonathan still fresh in his mind. "What of it?"

Sandy lifted the hand resting on his shoulder blade and patted him a little. "It was a curious question, I didn't mean anything by it."

The remainder of the dance was spent in silence. Sandy wasn't sure if Dio was pouting, or had gotten bored of her, but she tried not to let it bother her. The night was still young, and she had a goal to accomplish. Her mother was watching her across the room too, and from her glowering, she wasn't going to hear the end of her 'indiscretions' later. Might as well milk this evening for everything it was worth then.

The song came to an end, and Sandy parted with him for a moment to clap for the orchestra. Despite how it concluded, it was fun.

"Are you engaged with anyone after JoJo?" Dio broke their mutual silence, grudgingly joining the applause as well. She looked up at him, but he made it a point to stare at the couple in front of them instead.

"No, I'm not."

"Perfect."

Dio caught her wrist and lifted up to eye level, startling her out of her carefully crafted mask, before he leafed through her tags and scribbled his name on the one after Jonathan with his pen. Before she could say anything, he bowed graciously and kissed her knuckles.

"I must repay you for this by finding you in return. I'll see you after your dance with JoJo. Try not to get too tired by then?"

Sandy curtsied with a gracious nod, before pulling away, leaving him to sink into the crowd.

That night, after her dance with Jonathan Joestar, he did make good on his promise and whisked her away right after the applause. Something worth noting however was that following another interesting conversation and being a follower once again, she danced with Dio Brando five more times. When one set ended, he would write his name again and ask if she was tired as the couples around them clapped. She'd say she wasn't and he'd smirk smugly and start up another topic regardless of whether the dance started or not. Their time together traversed from peculiar, to hilarious, and then downright addictive. If it weren't for her mother stepping in and saying they ought to leave at once, they probably would've continued to dance all night.

100 years later, knowing what he knew now, Dio would like to think that if he had one more dance, one more soulful conversation, she would've fallen in love with him too. Maybe, with a bit more coaxing and time, she wouldn't have rejected him. He abandoned his humanity and pursued his hunger to rule. First, he wanted to rule Jonathan, then came his kin, then, when his stand ability awakened, he wanted to touch Heaven. On and on he continued to find something he could take for himself. His life could've ended peacefully, but his drive to be a leader was his downfall.

Fifty or so years before that, knowing what she knew now, Sandy would've gone about her life differently. She probably wouldn't have died as she held her granddaughter between her arms, waiting for her to fall asleep on her and husband's bed. The thought of him coming home and raping her as usual, screaming about her dropping so low as to hide behind Sunny when the young girl only sought her out because she couldn't sleep, pushed her past her emotional limits. Knowing that her children and grandchild would never know why she died suddenly and continued to love that man as their patriarch was what mattered. He'd always been a good father anyways. Her life could've ended peacefully, but her stubbornness was her downfall.

Hi, thanks for reading! Let me know what you think.This is a (multi!)OC x (multi!)JoJo characters story that follows the lives of the Joestars and their near miss soulmates, whom all belong to one lineage. I’ve decided to post the recent chapter here, but you can find the rest on AO3.

Summary: "You fall in love with them quickly, almost magically." Joseph says, grimacing as he pulls out a yellowing postcard from his pocket. Jotaro watches him unfold it gently, as if it would fall apart, and he stops himself from saying it was long on its way to - with all the creases it had. The older man's eyes sullen, as he reads the beautiful message half written in Italian for the nth time.

"What the hell are you talking about jiji?"

"It's not called a curse because you fall in love with them." Joseph raises the postcard to his grandson's eyes, whom is so struck with shock, snatches it aggressively. The image behind the words is of a girl nearly identical to his crush.

"It's called a curse because they always break your heart."

Stay tuned~

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