#and then scrolled through that person's account and found several other of my gifs

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

no body, no crime - allison argent x reader

(gif source)

Summary: When y/n disappears after confronting her husband about his affair, Allison takes matters into her own hands. Based on “no body, no crime (feat. HAIM)” by taylor swift [x]. You can find the mood board for this fic here

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: cursing, infidelity, implied kidnapping, implied murder, murder, alleged murder, alleged/implied death of reader, reader is married to a man with a j name 🤢

a/n: hi everyone! it’s been a hot minute since i posted a new fic & this is why. i’ve been working on this since late december of 2020, so this is the longest i’ve ever spent on a stand-alone work. i’ll include more gory details about the writing process at the end if you’re interested :)

dedicated to: elle (@demxters) for all of her help and ideas! this fic literally wouldn’t have gotten finished without her, send her some love <3

this is also dedicated to caoimhe (@free-pool-trash​) for not murdering me after i gave her a preview several weeks ago and then just ✨stopped writing✨

master list

Este's a friend of mine

We meet up every Tuesday night for dinner and a glass of wine

“Hey!” Allison greeted cheerily as she met y/n at their usual table tucked in the corner of their favorite restaurant. y/n returned the brunette’s smile as she stood up to hug her friend, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Allison saw through y/n’s facade and furrowed her eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” she asked as concern spread across her features.

“I think Justin is having an affair,” y/n admitted. The statement dropped like a bomb between the two women, causing Allison to nearly spew the wine in her mouth all over the table. She coughed a few times and drank some water to clear her throat before she composed herself enough to ask questions.

“What happened? Did you see something?” Allison asked hesitantly. Her mind was still reeling from the mere concept of y/n’s husband cheating on her. Sure, Justin had never been Allison’s favorite guy, but it was normal for girls to think that no guy would ever be good enough for their best friend. Right? 

Her husband's acting different and it smells like infidelity

She says, "That ain't my merlot on his mouth"

"That ain't my jewelry on our joint account"

y/n explained what had been going on over the past few weeks. Justin had been acting distant, which wasn’t too abnormal, but when he started coming home from work much later than his shifts ended and disappearing at odd hours of the night, y/n got concerned. The day that she had planned to approach him about everything and ask if anything was wrong, she got a call from her bank while driving home from work.

“Hi Mrs. y/l/n, this is Kathy from the bank. I’m calling to inform you that there have been a few large cash withdrawals from your joint account recently under your husband’s name, as well as a pretty expensive purchase yesterday at the jeweler,” the rest of Kathy’s words sounded muffled to y/n. It was nowhere near her birthday, Valentine’s day, or their anniversary, so y/n didn’t know what he could possibly be spending all their money on.

The next incident came a few days later when both y/n and Justin were home. y/n’s husband was in the shower and his phone buzzed with a new text message alert. Typically, y/n was never the type to snoop on her husband’s phone, but she figured she should check in case it was a work message. At least that’s how she justified it in her head. Justin had saved the sender’s number under the contact name “Spam Risk.” It was clever, y/n had to give him credit for that at least. Upon further inspection, y/n quickly realized that those texts weren’t sent from a telemarketer bot.

6:24 p.m.   I can’t wait to see you tonight, baby - Spam Risk

6:25 p.m.   Don’t keep me waiting too long ;) - Spam Risk

y/n thought the messages were strange, but the picture that followed the messages was definitely what threw y/n for a loop. There, on her husband’s text message thread, was a racy photo of a woman’s body that definitely wasn’t hers. y/n was quite literally stunned to silence as she dropped the phone back down onto the dresser. For the rest of the night, y/n was numb and quiet, not that Justin noticed. Then, like clockwork, he left the house at 11 p.m. with no explanation of where he was going or when he would be back.

By the end of y/n’s story, Allison’s mouth was open so wide she was sure her jaw would hit the table. 

“What are you going to do?” Allison whispered, still in shock. y/n grimaced before clearing her throat and speaking her next words with finality.

No, there ain't no doubt

I think I'm gonna call him out

Este wasn't there

Tuesday night at Olive Garden at her job or anywhere

“Hi, there should be a reservation for two under Allison Argent or y/n y/l/n for tonight,” Allison greeted warmly as she approached the hostess stand at their go-to girl’s night restaurant.

“Right this way, ma’am,” the hostess said with a smile as she grabbed two menus and led her towards their usual table. Two menus. That must mean that y/n wasn’t there yet? Allison thought it was strange, y/n almost always was the first of the two to arrive. Allison brushed off the thought as she thanked the hostess and sat down. She had intended to look over the menu, but the strangeness of it all wouldn’t leave her mind. y/n was late. She was never late. Allison pulled out her phone to text her best friend, and it then occurred to her that she hadn’t heard from y/n since last week. Allison had been away on a “work” trip with her dad for the past six days and had just gotten back into town. After 30 minutes of sitting at the table alone, half a dozen unanswered text messages, and even more calls sent straight to voicemail, Allison dropped a few bills on the table and left.

As Allison pulled out of the parking lot, she turned on the radio in a futile attempt to drown out some of her racing thoughts. Between songs the radio host took to the mic to make an announcement.

“Hello Beacon Hills, we now interrupt your regularly scheduled listening with an urgent message from the Sheriff's department. Speaking now is Sheriff Noah Stilinski,” the host trailed off before there was a brief crackle as the audio transitioned to the Sheriff’s press briefing. Allison turned up the volume as the Sheriff’s voice carried across the radio.

“Thank you all for attending and tuning in. It is with great displeasure and a heavy heart that I inform you all that y/n y/l/n has been reported missing. Shortly after 8 a.m. this morning, we were informed by her husband that she didn’t show up for work yesterday morning and also didn’t come home last night,” Sheriff Stilinski continued speaking but it all began to sound like white noise to Allison. It took everything she had in her to focus on not veering off the road so that she could head to the Sheriff’s station and speak to Stilinski in person. 

Conveniently, her route took her right past y/n and Justin’s house. Allison didn’t know what to expect as she sped by their house, but the fact that Justin’s normally filthy truck had been cleaned and waxed definitely caught her eye. The truck and driveway were soon out of sight due to the speed she was driving at, but at first glance, it looked as though his tires and grill had been replaced.

He reports his missing wife

And I noticed when I passed his house his truck has got some brand new tires

About a week had passed since y/n had been reported missing. Allison wasn’t sure how many search parties had been held, but they all resulted in the same thing: nothing. There wasn’t a single trace of her best friend, in fact, everything in Beacon Hills looked completely unchanged and normal. Allison’s focus and appetite seemed to have left with her other half, try as she might to desperately hold onto them. Her marksmanship had even been affected, something that hadn’t happened since high school.

Allison started driving around town during her free time. She wasn’t headed anywhere in particular, she mostly did it to try to clear her mind, though most times she was unsuccessful. She’d been mindlessly taking right and left turns and before she realized where she was, she passed y/n’s house.

Allison hadn’t planned to slow down as she passed the house, it was a mindless act if anything. Seeing a moving truck backed up to the house while Justin and some unfamiliar blonde woman were unloading boxes ensured that her decision to park her car where it couldn’t be seen and spy on the pair wasn’t mindless. Despite her gut telling her not to, Allison decided to give Justin the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he needed a roommate now since y/n couldn’t pay her share of the rent? Allison tried her best to keep all of her judgments and suspicions at bay as she watched the otherwise uneventful event unfold while biting her fingernails. 

A few boxes later, Justin pulled the blonde in by her waist and kissed her with a fervor that would make most people blush. Allison’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as she sat there in shock with her mouth wide open. It took a while, mostly because the kiss lasted for an obnoxious amount of time, but Allison finally regained control of her body. It was like her brain had to go through a hard reset before she was able to face the reality of the situation.

y/n was right. Justin was cheating on her. Not only that, but Justin had cheated on y/n, spent less than a week grieving her disappearance, then allowed this to happen.

And his mistress moved in

Sleeps in Este's bed and everything

Allison found out that Justin Smith’s mistress’s name was Rebecca Baker. She was a few years younger than y/n and she worked at the same company as Justin. It didn’t take long for Allison to hack into both of their iCloud accounts. A few hours of scrolling later she was really regretting her decision, especially when she got to Justin’s messages to Rebecca about y/n.

2:47 a.m.  What about your wife? - Spam Risk

2:47 a.m.  What about her? - Justin

2:48 a.m.  Are you going to leave her or kick her out or something? - Spam Risk

2:48 a.m.  It’s been taken care of. - Justin

2:48 a.m.  Taken care of? Justin, what does that mean? - Spam Risk

2:49 a.m.  Justin??? - Spam Risk

Each new message ensured that bits of Allison’s fingernails had been gnawed off while her left hand fidgeted anxiously in front of her mouth. Allison decided that those messages were probably the most incriminating thing she’d find digitally, but the time and date stamps caught her eye. The texts were sent early Monday morning, the day that y/n allegedly left home and then didn’t show up for work or return home. 

A chill spread from deep within Allison’s bones up to the surface of her skin, making goosebumps appear. Allison didn’t know what exactly, but she knew something terrible had happened to y/n and Justin had something to do with it. She shut her laptop a little harder than necessary as a resolved look spread across her face.

No, there ain't no doubt

Somebody's gotta catch him out

Good thing my daddy made me get a boating license when I was fifteen

Allison regularly accessed her personal armory, whether it was to prepare for a job or pack for a trip to the shooting range, but it had been a while since a powerful and unforgiving feeling hung over her shoulders. Allison carefully ran her fingers over her custom silver arrowheads as she considered her options. Her father’s words from one of her adolescent archery lessons rung in her head.

“The type of bow and arrows you use doesn’t matter. As long as you use them right, you’ll be able to make any shot. Don’t get hung up on the technicalities.”

Not too long after, her bag was stocked with her essentials: a bow, her trusted black leather archery glove, as well as a handful of arrows, though these ones lacked the silver heads she typically reserved for more exotic expeditions.

The rare dark clouds in the California sky at sunset were reflected in Allison’s cold eyes. The drive to her target’s house was familiar, the turns she made were almost instinctual. Normally these roads reminded her of her coffee dates with y/n and nights they spent talking for hours until sunlight crept through the windows. Now, her mind was blank and her heart was devoid of all emotion.

Even though Allison had disabled her car’s GPS earlier, she parked her car about a mile away from his house. When she was done, there wouldn’t be any evidence that could be traced back to her. She memorized his schedule; at 5:00 p.m. his shift ended and recently he’d been getting home by 5:20. His girlfriend got home sometime between 5:30 and 5:45, but she would leave for her pilates class around 6:30 and wouldn’t get home until 7:45. Allison had just over an hour window to get the job done, but it wouldn’t take that long. If everything went according to plan, she’d be off the property within a few minutes of taking the shot.

When she arrived her target had just come home from work and was alone in the house. She waited patiently, hidden by the trees that the property backed up to. She watched as he moved around through the open curtains and then as his girlfriend entered the house and kissed him with a passion that made Allison’s stomach churn. She watched as they ate dinner together, as her target’s girlfriend got ready for her gym class, and watched as she got in her car and drove away. When Allison checked her watch it was only 6:25 p.m., she had far more time than she needed.

The plan was simple, really. Under the cover of darkness, she’d flip the breakers, effectively cutting the power. When her target came out to investigate, she’d let him fumble around in the darkness for a while. He’d always been a paranoid individual, so it wouldn’t take much to get him on edge. A rustle in the bushes here, a small snapped tree branch there, and then something that would get his attention. Allison wanted his eyes to be on her when she took the shot.

Allison’s target was watching TV so he knew immediately when the power went out, plus the fact that the once illuminated house was suddenly bathed in darkness. The high-pitched yelp that escaped his throat almost made Allison laugh. She had to keep quiet though, at least for now. As expected, the dopey man scurried around to the side of the house where the breakers were located in no time. The batteries in the flashlight he held were on their last leg, that much was evident in the way the light beam flickered every few seconds.

Just as he opened the door to the circuit breaker panel, Allison moved. A rustle here. The sound practically echoed in the silence of the night, causing the man to whip around and shine his flashlight directly at the source of the noise. There was nothing there. It’s just the wind, he reasoned before getting back to work. After a few switches had been flipped - none of them for the outdoor lights - he heard another noise. This one was much louder than the last, a small snapped tree branch there. Again, the flashlight’s flickering light beam uncovered nothing, but it was enough to make all of the hairs on the back of Allison’s target’s neck stand up straight. He hastily flipped the rest of the breakers and the outdoor lights finally came on. 

When yellow light from the backyard fixtures flooded the area, both Allison and her target were revealed. Allison stood a considerable distance away from the man, but she was close enough to see the blood drain from his face and his Adam's apple bob. When his eyes darted to the bow hung by her side, realization dawned on his face. He began to turn away with the intention of running, but Allison’s voice held him frozen in place.

“Don’t move,” she ordered quietly without any aggression behind her tone. Her face wasn’t threatening, she just looked calm and focused. Allison’s smooth features and peaceful expression was what scared the man the most.

“I- I’m sorry- I didn’t-” he stammered out, his arms and legs beginning to tremble.

“Shh,” Allison chastised as she raised her bow, loading it with an arrow. Her fingers moved with precision, her muscles knew this routine well.

“Please don’t- no, you can’t, you can’t do this!” the man pleaded. He wasn’t above begging on his knees, but Allison wasn’t about to give him the chance. Her gaze was sharply focused on her target, the view of her tightly grasped bow in her peripheral vision.

“Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent.”

When Allison’s fingers let go of the bowstring the arrow flew smoothly through the air. The only sounds heard were the arrowhead piercing skin and the man wordlessly falling to the ground. The arrow went straight through his heart. Maybe Allison’s shot landed right where she intended. Maybe there was a metaphor in there. Allison checked her wristwatch, the numbers 6:45 shining back at her. An entire hour to spare.

Time to take out the trash.

I've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene

The job didn’t take long at all and it was definitely one of Allison’s least challenging ones, but it still felt nice to take a hot shower and sit in front of her fireplace with a cup of tea. The fire served a dual purpose; the crackles of the burning wood soothed her like a lullaby while the flames licked around and destroyed her bloody clothes from earlier. All of her equipment had been cleaned and put away, positioned exactly as it had been before. Everything was the same, nothing changed or out of place. There was just one less heartbeat in the world that night.

Good thing Este's sister's gonna swear she was with me

On the second day of the trial,  Rebecca Baker’s lawyers were throwing whatever they could against the wall to see if something would stick. That morning they began to argue that Allison Argent might’ve abducted and murdered Justin Smith in retaliation for y/n’s disappearance. It was all speculation at best, but the theory unfortunately made sense to the jury. Before things could get too far, the prosecution called its first witness of the day to the stand.

“Mrs. Martin, where were you on the night of Mr. Smith’s suspected disappearance?” the prosecution lawyer questioned calmly. 

“I was with Allison at my house. We were having a girls night in, you can check my security cameras,” Lydia answered confidently. Lydia still had a pocketful of favors from her MIT days, so when the jurors were shown the clips from Lydia’s home security cameras, they saw exactly what they would’ve expected based on Lydia’s testimony. 

Truth be told, Lydia didn’t know anything about what happened that night; including Allison’s whereabouts and any details related to Justin’s alleged demise. All she knew was that Allison called and asked for a simple favor - an alibi for just a few hours. Lydia didn’t ask questions and Allison didn’t give answers.

Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy

On the third day of the trial, Rebecca Baker took the stand. Her lawyers tried to help her as best they could, but the prosecution was ruthless. All of the evidence was circumstantial at best -  all parties, including the judge and jurors, knew that - but it was enough to make everyone reconsider the spotless image the defense had tried to create for Ms. Baker.

“Ms. Baker, is it true that you knowingly engaged in a romantic relationship while Justin Smith was married to and living with his wife?” another one of the prosecution’s attorneys began.

“Yes,” Rebecca replied meekly. Allison internally scoffed from her seat in the gallery. She found irony in the fact that Rebecca didn’t find any humility or shame in sleeping with another woman’s husband until she was under oath.

“Is it also true that within approximately a week of Mrs. y/l/n’s disappearance, you moved into Mr. Smith and Mrs. y/l/n’s house?”

“That is correct,” Rebecca said as she began to wring her hands together anxiously. The judge tapped his wrist watch and shot a stern look towards the prosecutor. The man nodded in response and continued to his final points.

“I’ll wrap up my questions for you, Ms. Baker. Can you confirm that shortly after moving in with Mr. Smith, multiple legal and financial arrangements and adjustments were made? And these new arrangements make you the sole beneficiary of Mr. Smith’s life issuance policy, assets, and investments?”

By the end of the prosecution’s final question, every jury member and spectator sat up straighter and waited to hear Rebecca’s response with bated breath. The blonde ball of nerves sighed defeatedly before turning to face the attorney directly as she answered his question.

“Yes, that’s true.”

“No further questions, your honor.” As the lead prosecutor returned to the plaintiff’s table, Rebecca’s attorney stood up to address the judge.

“Your honor, the defense would like to request a brief recess,” the defense attorney nearly pleaded. Though his poker face was much better than his client’s, it was clear that he was getting nervous.

“We’ll reconvene in 15 minutes,” the judge ordered with a stern glare cast towards Rebecca.

They think she did it but they just can't prove it

It soon became clear to Rebecca that the recess her legal team requested was nothing more than a “kiss your dignity goodbye” meeting. If she hadn’t been queasy before the recess was called, she definitely was upon re-entering the courtroom.

The rest of the trial seemed to move in slow motion for Rebecca. A few more witnesses were called to the stand, more lackluster evidence was presented, both sides made their closing arguments, and the jury left to discuss the verdict. After what felt like an eternity, the jury returned with an official decision.

Silence settled over the room as a single juror stood to address the court.

“The jury finds the defendant not guilty on count 1 of murder in the first degree based on lack of sufficient evidence. The jury finds the defendant not guilty on count 2 of kidnapping based on lack of sufficient evidence. The jury finds the defendant guilty on count 3 of insurance fraud based on…” 

The rest of the jurors’ statement sounded like white noise to Rebecca. She was just barely coherent enough to hear the judge deliver her punishment a few minutes later. $50,000 fine and 200 hours of community service.

Allison stuck around to the bitter end of the trial to hear the verdict in person. In all honesty, Allison didn’t want Rebecca to go to jail. It wouldn’t be right for her to serve time for a crime she didn’t commit, but Allison did find satisfaction in the fact that Rebecca would soon be picking up garbage in a fluorescent orange vest.

After the majority of the spectators had vacated the courtroom gallery, Allison leisurely gathered her things. Justice had been served to Justin, she personally made sure of that, and now justice had been served to Rebecca. The blonde and brunette women briefly locked eye contact as Allison made her way towards the exit. 

“You did this,” Rebecca whispered to Allison. Suddenly, it was like a flip switched within her. One moment she was numb, yet calm and collected, and the next moment she was screaming (literal) bloody murder and had to be held back by her lawyers.

“YOU DID THIS! YOU KILLED JUSTIN, YOU BITCH!” Rebecca cried, though her words fell on deaf ears. Allison exited the courtroom with her head held high as the courtroom deputy and defense lawyers did their best to calm the hysterical woman.

She thinks I did it but she just can't prove it

A week later the court case was still on Allison’s mind but the emotional scars had begun to scab. Healing was never a straight or smooth path, Allison had learned that the hard way over the years, but this was a start.

y/n’s landlord had been generous enough to allow Allison to gather y/n’s things before he cleaned out the house for new renters. As Allison walked through the home she once considered to be an extension of her own, she felt her throat dry out and tighten up. She hadn’t realized she was crying until she was wiping salty tears off of the picture frames she’d carefully picked up. Each photo unlocked a new memory, some even elicited a chuckle out of Allison amidst her tears.

A photo from y/n’s wedding day stood out among all the rest as Allison’s eyes jumped from frame to frame. It was a candid shot Lydia had taken while they were in y/n’s dressing room before the ceremony. y/n looked as beautiful as ever in her flowy white gown and Allison’s mulberry maid of honor dress complemented it well. As Allison put the final touches on y/n’s hair and makeup, y/n fastened the clasp of a custom necklace behind Allison’s neck. On a thin, medium-length chain hung an arrowhead from the first time Allison had ever tried to teach y/n how to shoot a bow and arrow. y/n failed miserably, but it was a cherished memory for both girls. Since that day, Allison had only taken the necklace off a handful of times.

Allison smiled bittersweetly at the memory and wiped a fresh tear off of the decorative frame before pulling her necklace out from underneath her shirt. She pressed a gentle kiss to the cool silver arrowhead and then to the photo frame, right above y/n’s styled hair. 

A feeling that Allison couldn’t quite explain flowed through her body just then; it was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being stuck underwater or seeing the gentle rays of the sun for the first time after a hurricane, it felt like freedom. Allison felt almost as if y/n was right there next to her, with her head resting on Allison's shoulder and wrapping her arms around the brunette’s torso. In that moment, Allison somehow wordlessly knew with every fiber in her being that y/n was finally at peace. 

No, no body, no crime

I wasn't letting up until the day he died

a/n: AHHHH DID YOU LIKE IT? it was kind of a wild ride from start to finish and i definitely shed a few tears while i was writing it. please lmk what you think!

okay, now onto the writing process from hell: i started drafting ideas for the fic on dec. 21 or 22 of 2020, after i put together a mood board. i had written more than half of the fic when i decided i hated it and scrapped the whole thing on xmas eve (~3000 words 🤡). after that i was kinda in a rut and couldn’t decide how i wanted to end the fic so i ended up writing and deleting ~2500 words over the past month and a half. @demxters​ is an absolute GODDESS and helped me come up with the ending, so i am eternally grateful to her for that. if any of this seems a lil strange it’s probably because i finished writing it at 4:45 a.m. after working on it for 3ish hours straight. have a great day lovelies!

join my tag list!

@dashkana​ @rogershoe​ @basicbibitxh​ @sweetfairyprincess17​ @samkysnks​ @ellxpsismm​ @pure-ghost​ @lilyspells​ @ineedyourskulls​ @loveheathens​ @plq-cid @linkpk88​ @grace-wade-08​ @brithedemonspawn​ @fanfichoex​ @wistful-chaos​ @silveralma​ @malfoysadore​ @miss-i-ship-it​ @sonnydoesrandomshit​

[mggssocks]

Followed- part 2

Not My Gif!

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Content Warnings: regular criminal minds stuff. (please let me know if i missed anything!)

Summary: Spencer makes an Instagram and stumbles across reader’s page.

Word Count: 2.2k +

A/N: Thank you so much for the love i have received on my last chapter!!! It means so much to me. Also i’m going to try to update chapters as much as i can but i’m graduating in a few weeks and i will have a lot going on. But again, thank you guys!!! xoxo

masterlist // part 1

Although he was only going off of a few hours of sleep, Spencer came to work with a pep in his step today. His interaction with this girl was very brief but he still got butterflies with the thought. He was early as usual so he made himself a cup of coffee and sat at his desk, settling in. He pulled out his phone and reread the text messages that the two of you shared. When he finished reading the short message thread, his thumb hovered over the letter G. He wanted to type “good morning” but he didn’t want to come off as too clingy or overbearing. That in fact was the last thing he wanted. 

“Hey Spence” he hears from behind him, causing him to jump and quickly lock his phone before shoving it into his coat pocket. 

“Hi” he turns around to see JJ and forms his mouth into a straight line. 

She eyes him weirdly. Something was up.

“Everything okay?” She asked. Knowing how Spencer was, she wasn’t expecting him to answer truthfully. Especially with him jumping startledly like he just did at a simple ‘hi’.

“No- yeah. Yeah I’m fine. What about you? Are you okay?” He asked to switch the conversation around. 

Yeah. Something was definitely up.

“I’m… fine?” She answers confused

He nods awkwardly. She was just about to ask him if he was sure that he was fine but everyone else started to walk in and she knew if he was being this secretive with her, he definitely wouldn’t want everyone else to be in his business. So she drops it… at least for now. 

Garcia speed walked into the bullpen with a file or two in her hand, not bothering to say anything to the team. She goes straight to the conference room.

“Looks like we have a case” Morgan declared as he walked past the desks and up the stairs. Everyone else followed.

“And from the looks of it, it’s bad,” says Emily. 

They settle in their seats as Garcia passes Spencer his case file while everyone else gets on their tablets.

“We’re going to Wichita, Kansas.” Hotch says as he was the last one to come into the conference room.

“This sicko stabs straight through the heart. They chop off as much hair as they can before shoving it in the victim’s mouths.” Garcia speaks, a little disturbed a little while avoiding her gaze from the screen.

“Four victims within one week. There’s no cooling off period at all” Morgan said, swiping through his tablet.

“Which is why we’re debriefing on the jet. Wheels up.”

——————

After the team debriefed on the jet, Garcia chimed in through the video chat.“Guys, A store owner just found another victim.” 

The team looks at one another. Hotch sighs momentarily before speaking.

“Alright, JJ, you and Reid to the M.E. Morgan and Rossi go to the latest crime scene and Prentiss and I will go and set up at the station.” 

Everyone nods their head at their temporary partners for confirmation.

————

“So on the first victim, the person hesitated.” The examiner spoke factually.

“-And on the other four he didn’t hesitate at all” spoke JJ, trying to get the bigger picture. 

“Exactly. Now with the new victim… I noticed something strange. “ She walked over to the newest victim from earlier that day and the agent and dr followed her.

She turned the woman’s head and revealed a cat-like scratch with three of them synchronized.

JJ and Spencer looked at each other. After they called the other team members to fill them in, they walked to the car in pure silence.

“So… this morning” says JJ, walking to the driver’s side.

Spencer gives her a questioning look as he takes the passenger seat.

“What about this morning?” He asked in a suspicious tone and avoided her gaze by looking out of the window.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, Spence, but I know something’s going on. Just tell me that it’s nothing bad.” She put her seatbelt on.

Spencer didn’t dare to give in “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

——————- 

After three days, they finally caught the unsub. The man was purely a sick and twisted psychopath. Jeffery Magnum. A 30 year old man who was severely abused as a child. His mother would make him eat the cat’s fur balls for dinner and when he refused, she would shave him bald. His mother died and that was the stressor that made him begin to kill.

As they boarded the plane, Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ sat together in the four seats. Rossi and Hotch sat together in the seats across from each other behind them. Spencer sat on the couch, far away from everyone. He wasn’t trying to distance himself. He just wanted to sit alone.

He pulled his phone out. He hasn’t thought much about that girl since he’s obviously been busy but now he was thinking about her. When he opened the app, he saw that she had posted a story. Before he watched her story, he clicked on her account and scrolled a little. She posted a lot of books and her cat too. Spencer really liked this one in particular.

26 likes

Yourinstagram I looked up from my book and seen this. thought it was a great photo op. 

View all 11 comments

He comes across a picture that really catches his attention.

11 likes

Yourinstagram okay just finished these two Jung books. He’s officially my favorite psychology/ prolific author. Freud’s got nothing on this guy.

View 1 comment

Spencer nodded his head approvingly. He swiped back to look at her Instagram story. 

He swiped up, thinking of a way to start a conversation. He just wanted to talk. About what? He doesn’t know.

spencerreid what’s tomorrow?

As expected, she didn’t respond right away. Instead of waiting for a response, Spencer picks up a book to occupy his attention. About 15 minutes later, his phone vibrates and an Instagram notification pops up. It catches the attention of JJ and she looks from the corner of her eye.

Spencer let’s 3 minutes pass by before responding because he didn’t want to seem too eager to talk to her. Although he definitely was.

yourinstagram nothing special! I’m a pastry chef so I’m just preparing them for the week! 

spencerreid Do you have some sort of bakery?

yourinstagram yup :)

Spencer didn’t know what to text back. So he started a new conversation with her.

spencerreid By the way I was looking at your page and seen that you read Carl Jung books.

yourinstagram you were stalking my page??

He started to panic. He didn’t mean it like a weirdo.

spencerreid I didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted to see what you were about, I guess.

yourinstagram relax haha I was kidding. And yes I do like Carl Jung books. What about you? Jung or Freud?

spencerreid I’m a fan of both, though I feel as if Jung was more open minded.

yourinstagram you, my friend, have great taste.

Although he knew “my friend” was just a term, Spencer couldn’t help but let a smile spread across his face. 

JJ notices and nudges Morgan who was listening to music. Prentiss notices JJ’s act and she gives her a questioning look. JJ nods her head towards Reid who was smiling at his phone. Emily who was sitting next to the window across from Morgan leaned over the seat to get a peek at Spencer.

She looks back to JJ. “What?”

“He’s been acting weird since before we left for this case. Like… secretive.”

Derek quirks an eyebrow. “You think he’s got something going on?” 

JJ shrugs.

“Hey” Emily says to Spencer.

He doesn’t necessarily jump but he was obviously startled. 

“What are you smiling about?” She asked. JJ and Derek watched as he fumbled over his words.

“I- uh-just- just a joke” Spencer cringed internally, because not even he, himself was buying it.

“What’s the joke?” Derek asked.

“It’s… nothing you would find amusing.” 

The three pretended to believe him and gave each other subtle glances before continuing what they were doing. Spencer turned back to his phone.

yourinstagram I’m y/n by the way. Just thought I’d formally introduce myself.

spencerreid I’m Spencer.

yourinstagram It’s nice to meet you, Spencer.

spencerreid It’s nice to meet you as well, Y/N.

After the jet landed, it was only 3:00 in the afternoon. Hotch gave them the rest of the day off so Spencer decided to head home and catch up on some sleep that he’s missed these past few days. 

He knew that it’d be terrible traffic on his way home. But since he stupidly decided to drive to work a few days ago, he couldn’t take the subway. He had to drive home. After about 10 minutes of sitting in his car calculating the fastest route home during traffic hours, he decides to take a way that he’s never taken before.

It would take him about thirty minutes but on his normal route during traffic hours, it would take him an hour and twenty. 

While driving, he catches a glimpse of a bakery and his stomach automatically growls. He decided that he’d stop by. Spencer walked into the shop and it wasn’t very busy. He looked over all of the options while waiting for someone to come to the counter.

A girl soon trails around dusting her hands off on her yellow apron. Her hair tied back in a ponytail.

“Hi. How can I help you?” She gives a kind smile.

“Uh- can I have two of the Danish pastries And a water?” He asked.

“Of course! Will that be all?” She puts some clear gloves on and makes her way over to the pastries.

“Yes” Spencer answers, digging through his satchel for his wallet.

She puts the treats in an apricot colored box, closed with a sticker with the name of the bakery. 

She puts the order in and looks back up at him “That’ll be $5.37!” 

He’s finally able to get a feel for his wallet and pulls out his card, handing it to her. She swipes it and hands it back over to him after it was approved along with his box and a reusable water bottle. He murmurs a thank you before leaving and heading to his apartment, enjoying the delicious danishes and finishing up some case files.

*******

“Seriously, Y/n. There’s so many relationship opportunities in Virginia. And you’re thinking about someone from a social media platform. You’ve never even seen them.” Your older sister lectures you as you close up the shop.

“Woah woah woah. I never said anything about a relationship with him. He’s nice but I’m not going to date someone over the internet. For all I know, he could be from England. I just said we both have an understandable love for Carl Jung in common.” You explained.

“Mom is worried about you. You’re thirty and you haven’t even found someone you’re interested in.” She lifts her eyebrow.

“She doesn’t need to worry about me. And every single woman doesn’t need to get married and settle down in their thirties.” you argue back

“She wants grandchildren, y/n. And not just from one of her kids.” 

“Look. I’m fine. You guys need to stop with the pressuring. I’m happy and I have all that I can ask for right now. When that time comes then it comes but for right now, i’m content” You shrug as you lock up all of the treats in the display cases.

She gives up the argument. And there is a weight of silence that fell between the two of you.

“Alright. Dave and the kids are expecting me so I'm going to get some pizza and head home.” she says, breaking the silence.

“Okay. Love you. Be safe. Bye” you say to her. 

After locking up the shop, you head home and when you open your door, you are greeted by your cat, Luna. After locking the door, you kneel down to properly greet your baby.

“Hey, girl” you pick her up and make your way to the kitchen, opening the fridge to see what options you had to eat for dinner.

You decided on some grilled cheese and tomato soup so that’s what you made.

*****

You throw the crust down on your plate, flipping the page of the book you were almost done with. You were curled up on the side of the couch with Luna sleeping by your feet. After finishing the last page, you were bored enough to go onto twitter and then instagram. 

As you make your way to his dm, you bite your lip, hesitant to say something. You didn’t often speak to people through social media. But he’s already texted first so the least you can do is text something first this time. You were uncertain, but you did it anyway.

yourinstagram hey

You mentally smack yourself as you look at the time. He’s probably already slee-

spencerreid Hi.

yourinstagram i was thinking….

spencerreid About?

yourinstagram I told you what i do for a living. I figured it’s only right that you told me what you do..

spencerreid I’m in the FBI. I’m a profiler.

yourinstagram that’s pretty impressive.

You didn’t know it but Spencer was blushing.

spencerreid Thank you.

yourinstagram you’re based in D.C right?

spencerreid That would be correct.

yourinstagram That’s funny.

spencereid Why is it funny?

yourinstagram because I live in D.C too.

[shinescape]

Second Chance

Cafe Owner Xiumin x Reader

Requested!

AU: Xiumin is a descendant of the Ice Spirit.

tw: mention of character death.

note: @hello-kumamimi i hope you like how this turned out! Sorry it took awhile. Enjoy the read <3

Every Sunday, there’s a coffee shop that you’ll frequent to get your favourite Iced Mocha. The reason why you only visit at the end of the week was that the other days, it’s usually packed and you had no time to wait in line for just one order. Besides, Sunday is the best day since people usually rest at home or wake up late but not you.

It’s the day you get to have the cafe all to yourself, there are customers but they don’t stay long or prefer to take away. You made your way to the counter and Jongin, one of the staff greeted you happily. “Hi, what would you like to order today?” He obviously knows what you always order but it’s formality. “One Iced Mocha, please.” You said to him and as he placed in the order, you caught someone unfamiliar at the coffee machine.

“Here’s your receipt. I’ll send your order once it’s done.” He said. Since there was no one in the premises, you decided to bother Jongin a bit. “Who’s that? I’ve never seen him before.” You whispered. “Oh, that’s the owner actually. He just came back from overseas.” He leaned to the counter and said. “Also, I heard from the manager he’s a descendant of an Ice Spirit.” You gave him an odd look to which he shrugged in response. You nodded at the information and replied with a quick “thanks” before leaving for your usual seating spot.

It’s not that you want to feel like a main character in a movie but sitting near the windows just makes you at peace. Watching people go about their day while waiting for your single order as usual was nice and calming. The information Jongin said earlier lingered in your head for a while before shrugging it off thinking he was just messing with you. You were too engrossed in watching what’s happening outside that when your order came, the waiter had to cough to grab your attention.

“Oh, thank you” Looking up thinking it was the cashier and turned out it was the owner had you surprised. He smiled at you before leaving. His features were sharp and his cat like eyes caught your attention. He’s very good looking, you admitted to yourself. You took your time drinking and playing with your phone.

As you were scrolling through your social accounts, a plate of brownie topped with ice cream was set in front of you. “It’s on the house. Minseok told me to apologise to you since I said some stuff earlier. I’m sorry.” Kai guiltily admitted and bowed. “Don’t be sorry, I was the one being nosy. I shouldn’t eat this for free.” You were about to take out some cash when the man earlier appeared.

“You can leave, now. I’ll talk to them.” Jongin gave you one last look before leaving. “Can I sit here?” “Of course.” He took a seat and looked at you. You weren’t sure how to act so you smiled back at him, waiting for him to say something.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I notice that bracelet you have. Did someone give it to you?” He pointed at the chain around your wrist and you touched it out of habit when someone mentioned it. It was a silver chain with a single snowflake pendant. You wondered when he noticed it. “I saw it when you were looking outside earlier.” That made sense, at least.

“I got it from my mother. She said it’s been passed down for years and now it’s mine.” You explained and observed the expression he held, it looked hurt. “I see. My name is Kim Minseok by the way. Should have said that first.” He scratched the side of his head and laughed. You smiled at him in return.

Many Sundays pass and your relationship with Minseok grows closer. He’s a very warm person, he can be awkward at times but when he speaks about his love and passion for coffee, it’s like a different person. He had hope for you to visit the cafe everyday on your way to work but you just couldn’t. Sunday was the only day and Minseok had to accept that, one way or another.

You had come to the shop later than usual and noticed the sign outside the shop said that it was close. It never closes, even during special holidays it has been operating like any other day. Feeling dejected, you turned around and walked away when suddenly the sound of the glass door opening made you swiftly turn back.

There stood Jongin in a hoodie, calling you back to the shop. “Please help. Minseok is not in his right mind.” Before you could say anything, he pulled you into the shop. The first thing that you felt was the drop in temperature. It was really chilly and you can see some parts of the walls getting frosted. Jongin wasn’t lying to you back then, it is real.

You asked him where Minseok was and he pointed at your favourite spot. You watched how Minseok was sitting there with his head hung low, hands clasped together. “Minseok, is everything okay?” You reached out to touch him but he turned around and looked you dead in the eyes. They weren’t the usual brown, it was icy blue and he appeared very cold at the moment. He stood up from his seat and opened his right palm, an exact looking bracelet as yours sat there. “You might think what I’m going to say is crazy but please hear me out.” You could only blink at him and waited for his next words.

Minseok explained how several hundred years ago he had a lover who looked exactly like you were. They promised to love each other forever but an unfortunate event happened which killed her. Back then, Minseok killed his own lover by accident, he was unable to control his emotions which led the ice spirit in him to attack his lover, you. He tried to find you after several reincarnations but never had any luck until he came back to his homeland.

You were there looking outside the window with the same smile he remembered from his memory. Then, the bracelet confirmed it all. You were his lover from the past and he knew he had to make things right this time but afraid he would repeat his mistake. That’s why the shop was closed for the day as he was in turmoil of his own feelings. He could not control the emotions that rushed to him knowing that he found you after all these years.

Unknowingly to you, tears started trickling down your face when you listened to every word he said. Minseok stopped talking and looked at you surprised. He pulled the sleeves of his sweater and wiped the tears. “I’m sorry, I...I don’t know why I’m crying.” You sniffled and tried to laugh it off. There was a soft smile on his face and he took your hand in his. They were still cold but you let him hold on to it because somewhere inside, you know he won’t hurt you.

“I deeply regret my past actions towards you. I can’t lose you again, not in this lifetime. I promise to cherish and protect you with all my heart. Can you be my lover for the second time?” He confessed with tear brimmed eyes. With a soft “yes” you burst into tears again and hugged him tight.

He returned the gesture and was slowly warming up again. The chills died down and the frosted walls slowly turned back to it’s oak wood shade. You pulled away and stared into his eyes, they were brown and warm again. Just like how you remembered, from the last life you had with him.

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language + severe triggerwarning for victims of domestic abuse.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: House-hunting, mole-hunting and Anita-hunting (sort of). And this chapter is like 95% conversation.

Chapter 32

  “Are you serious?”

  “What?”

  “That is way too big… What would we even do with all that?”

  “Hermosa, we fill the space we have. That’s not a euphemism, just a fact. If we have four rooms, we’ll fill those, and if we have twelve, we’ll fill those too.”

  “Who the fuck needs twelve rooms?”

  “It only has eight rooms.”

  “And there are only four of us.”

  “So, that’s it? No room to grow further?”

  “Honey, just how much are you anticipating this little family to grow? That’s a totally serious question, by the way. How many kids would you actually like to have?”

  “If your weird-ass body permits – like… four.”

  “Hey, who are you calling w…… did you just say four?”

  “Yup.”

  “What… including Missy, or… an additional four?”

  “I’m not picky. If we end up with just the two little miracles we have, I’ll still be the happiest man alive, but I wouldn’t mind having a bunch. Five, six, however many our love can create, I’ll be more than happy to nurture and raise and love all of them unconditionally, even when they inevitably pee on me.”

  You had no idea how to answer that, so you just stared at him. But he knew how ambivalent you were about all things concerning family, so he didn’t pose the question back to you, and instead just smiled while he watched the cogs in your mind struggle to fit together.

  “S-six… you’d be okay with another… six kids?”

  “Mhm.”

  “Fuck, Marcus, I’m struggling to even get it into my head that we’re gonna be joined by a tiny fragile infant in about 7 months, how are you already contemplating another five?!”

  “Relax, preciosa, I’m not actively contemplating it, I’m just answering a question. Saying I wouldn’t mind something, doesn’t mean I’m aiming for it.”

  “But you’re looking at houses with eight rooms…”

  “Like I said: we fill the space we have. Rooms have endless usages, it’s not like we have to make all of them bedrooms. We can have home-offices, a separate play-room, a separate dining room.”

  “Yeah, I get all that, it just seems excessive.”

  “Sweetheart, all I’m saying is, we’re looking for a home for life. If our family grows more, I don’t want to have to move again. I want the place we pick to be one that can take anything we weirdo’s throw at it.”

  “Okay, fine, I’ll look at the big-ass house.”

  “Thank you.”

  He handed you the phone and you scrolled through the different images, seeing things you liked and things you didn’t. But when you got to the master bedroom, your eyebrows shot up. The room looked ordinary at first glance, but when you took a closer look, you noticed that it had some special features.

  “Marcus… is this why you’re so interested in this house?”

  “It’s not the only reason…”

  “Who the fuck owns this place - Stormy Daniels?”

  “No, just some accountant.”

  “The bedroom is soundproofed.”

  “Which is convenient and useful for all kinds of people, but especially parents.”

  “Hard pass.”

  “We could just go and look at it before you dismiss it completely.”

  “Nope. Not happening. Move on.”

  “Why? Seriously, what’s so bad about it? Missy wouldn’t have to wear headphones every other night, and we wouldn’t have to worry about her overhearing stuff.”

  “Yes, those are good points. But: what if something happens to one of us, and the other needs to shout for help? What if something happens to Missy, and she tries to shout for help and we can’t hear her? What if someone breaks into the house, and we don’t hear it? I mean, I’m pretty sure you have super-hearing, but I don’t, and you’re not home every second of every day. I want to live in a house that speaks to me. You know, the way our house used to creak in the mornings when the sun warmed it, and settle again in the evenings, when it cooled. And if we are gonna have a bunch of kids, I sure as shit wanna be able to hear every little thing they get up to.”

  He looked ridiculously pleased at how you’d thought that through.

  “Got it, hard pass on all soundproofing. But can I ask you another serious question? One you might not have such a clear answer for?”

  “Sure.”

  “Our house… why did you send the whole thing over there? Why not just Prince and his machines?”

  “There wasn’t any thought involved with that, just instinct, and at the time, the house didn’t feel safe. I walked in and it was like entering a tomb. And I honestly don’t know if I could’ve ever walked in to that house again without having that feeling.”

  “I can understand that, mi amor. And I hope you know that I’m not asking because I’m in any way upset with you. I saw the look in your eyes in those moments, and I know how scared you were. To be able to utilise your abilities with that kind of precision and delicacy right then, was down-right miraculous.”

  “Let’s just hope I never have to try and repeat that miracle. Now, what’s next on your list?”

  He tapped away on his phone, blinking a few times at the wetness in his eyes, before handing it back to you.

  “Wow… this is even bigger.”

  “Same number of rooms, just a bigger kitchen and more garage-space.”

  “Oh, I like the yard.”

  “Check out the backyard.”

  “Holy… that’s huge! And a pool. We’d need guardrails around that, or I’d be perpetually terrified for the baby to fall in. Are those trees on the property as well?”

  “Yes. That whole little patch of woods is.”

  “Really? I mean, a pair of swings in those trees…”

  You were so engrossed in the phone that you didn’t see Marcus smile wider as he watched you fall in love with the place.

  “Oh, I love the kitchen. And there’s a fireplace! Those are beautiful floors. Holy shit – I could swim in that bathtub…”

  “Sooo…… you like it?”

  “I do.”

  “Enough to go have a look?”

  “Definitely. But Missy has to come too.”

  He beamed. You’d had a few long conversations about the house-hunting before you actually started, and after a meeting at the bank, you’d found out that your credit was basically more than big enough for anything you might want, which was an odd thing to try and get your head around. Not that you wanted a life of luxury, but it was sort of strange to realise that you actually could have practically any kind of life you chose, in terms of housing.   The two of you had settled on a firmly planted roof of expense that you were willing to extend to the purchase. And even though this house was huge and renovated to the nines with modern upgrades, that still managed to float seamlessly into the older stem and feel of the house, it wasn’t really particularly near that roof.

  “I’ll call the realtor and see if they can fit us in later this week.”

  “It’s a nice area. A little out of the way, but a good neighbourhood, and Missy wouldn’t have to change schools. Our commute to work would be a bit longer, but on quieter roads. And there’s a fence around the property. We could get a dog, or two. Or even a frickin’ pony with the size of that backyard.”

  Marcus just stared at you with that giddy smile firmly planted in his whole frame, while you rambled on, completely lost in your own thoughts, until his silence eventually made you snap out of it and look at him.

  “Oh, crap. I’m already moving in, aren’t I…?”

  He just laughed and hugged you.

  “I’m definitely on board with the dogs. But I’m gonna need my phone back if I’m gonna be able to call the realtor.”

  You quickly handed it back to him, just as there was a careful knock on the door.   You were in Marcus’s office, sitting in one of the sofas, perfectly naturally just sitting next to each other, for once. It had only been a week since you were released from medical, and he was still a little worried about getting you worked up, so you hadn’t been together yet, and it was creating something of a space between you. Not a wall, nothing that exclusive, just a little void that was a bit hard to reach across.   He called for the person to enter, and Will stepped in, immediately shooting an apologetic glance at Marcus. He still hadn’t quite recovered from seeing Cujo that time, even though Marcus had apologized for scaring him.

  “Hi, sorry, I was told I could find you here.”

  You smiled warmly at him to ease his discomfort.

  “What’s up, Will?”

  “Uh, Miss. Timmons is looking for you, she needs your help.”

  Oh, for fucks sake…

  “Let me guess; she screwed up her paperwork, again?”

  “Looks like it.”

  “Damned it, Izzy. Wait, why’d she send you to get me, you’re not an errand-boy, she couldn’t have picked up the phone?”

  “She did go looking for you in your office, but when you weren’t there, she got a little… desperate. She knows that she’s messed up too many times already, and I think she’s genuinely scared that you’re gonna fire her. She started crying outside your office and I was just passing by, so I offered to go find you for her.”

  “If I had the authority to fire her, I would’ve already done it.”

  You sighed and got up to leave, but Marcus caught your elbow.

  “You’re not gonna go back to work, right? We talked about that.”

  “If I know Izzy, this won’t be solved by correcting a few clerical errors.”

  “So, let someone else do it.”

  “No one else can, honey. That’s why I still have my job despite the number of sick-days I have.”

  “Preciosa… it’s dangerous. Prince’s people are in this building, and if he was obsessed with you, or us, then so are they. None of us can afford to be distracted right now.”

  “I know, but we still have to live. We’re still the same people, and neither one of us are the type of person that’s just gonna stand by when someone needs help. If the team needs you, I expect you to go and help them, not just because that’s your job, but because that’s who you are.”

  “Just don’t let yourself get too engrossed. Stay alert at all times. We have no idea who’s a friend and who isn’t.”

  “I’ll check in with you every hour, okay?”

  “Every half-hour. And just until you’ve sorted this mess out, then you come back and find me, you don’t start on another three problems you discover along the way.”

  “Are you giving me orders now, Team Leader?”

  He grabbed your hips and pulled you in close, so that your bodies were only millimetres apart and his nose was brushing against yours. It was more than enough to heat you up after six weeks of inactivity, but the tremble of emotion in his voice when he spoke next, pushed the desire aside, to make way for compassion.

  “I can’t lose you again. I’ll do anything…”

  You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against his. How many times had you lost each other already? Your ability made it so easy for you to feel like it was your job to save others, like it was what you were put in this world to do, and especially where your family was concerned. So, you had to start reminding yourself that while you would probably always be able to absorb anything bad that happened to them – you’d also always hurt them by doing that. Your ability came with a terrible price, and you were only lucky to have survived everything you’d been through thus far.   Marcus was right, you had to be more careful.   You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and nestled your nose into his neck. His arms closed around your waist and held you to him, strong and sure, and you felt like you could just stand there for the rest of the day.

  “I promise I’ll be careful, and not take any risks. I love you.”

  “Te amo, querida.”

  Will had moved to stand outside the door after Marcus started talking to you, but he fell in behind you when you walked past him.

  “So, where is she, and what has she done?”

  It felt really good to get back into something familiar and achievable again. To do something that generated an immediate response and result, and within fifteen minutes you suddenly understood why Marcus had been so worried. You got lost in the task in no time at all.   You sent him a text while you waited for a lawyer to call you back.

  [You’re right, I’m already cheating.]

  [How bad?]

  [Two other issues already solved, while I’m waiting to work out Izzy’s.]

  [Why are you waiting?]

  [Because lawyers always have something better to do.]

  [Fine. But as soon as it’s dealt with, you come back to me. I’ll be at the control centre.]

  [Promise. What’s going on?]

  [Just two small countries deciding to go to war over the quality of their chocolate.]

  [Well… I suppose there are worse things.]

  [They’re hurling missiles at each other over fucking candy…]

  [Wow… Where’s Máma when you need her?]

  [Don’t you worry, she’s right here, so this should be sorted out by the time you get here.]

  [Oh, in that case, I am so calling her Chocoreno from now on.]

  [Please don’t…]

  [Only if she doesn’t solve it.]

  [*sigh*]

  After another eight phone calls and a lot of grovelling to people you really didn’t like, you finally managed to set things straight, and went to find Izzy to give her a piece of your mind - again. But when you got to her office, she was on the phone and turned away from the door, so she didn’t see you come in, and you accidentally overheard the end of her conversation.

  “No, of course not, I’ll be straight home from work. Why would I make any stops? --- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you… --- No, baby, don’t… I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. --- Anything you want, name it. --- Yeah, that sounds.. nice. I’ll be home soon.”

  Shit.

  She turned around, looking absolutely terrified, and then she saw you by the door and quickly tried to adapt a neutral expression. She was good at it too, within half a second there was no trace of fear in her face. You only got that good at hiding your feelings if you knew that showing them meant terrible pain.

  “So, everything’s taken care of, no harm done.”

  “Really? Oh, thank you. I’m so sorry, I swear I don’t mean to mess up the papers, it just gets to be too much sometimes.”

  “Izzy, if I ask you a personal question, will you answer me honestly?”

  A trace of fear re-emerged in her features, but she nodded carefully.

  “Is it work that gets to be too much… or is it home?”

  You could see the internal struggle. The need to be free of the fear and the pain, and that same fear making it almost impossible. All the irritation and frustration fell away from you with the realisation that she wasn’t incompetent at all. She was being smothered.   How many times had you added to her stress and general feeling of inadequacy, by barking at her for constantly missing or screwing up doing things? Why hadn’t you seen the signs sooner, you knew every single one of them?

  “I’ve been where you are, Izzy. I should have seen this. I’m so sorry.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for, honestly, I’m fine.”

  “Show me your arms and your stomach. If they aren’t bruised, I might believe you.”

  She squirmed where she stood, and her head dropped in defeat.

  “When was the last time you didn’t have an injury somewhere? When was the last time you could move without feeling pain somewhere?”

  She just kept staring at the floor, shaking her head, trying to will it not to be true, so you walked up to her, pushed your energy around her, and healed her.   The amount of energy that it drained from you, told you everything you needed to know about how injured she was, and you quickly reached into your back pocket to retrieve a pill from the small box you kept with you at all times these days.   Izzy stared wide-eyed at you, while you fumbled with a paper-cup at her water-cooler, hands shaking with the sudden loss of strength. Then she suddenly sprung to life and came to help you fill the cup and down the pill.

  “Jesus Christ, girl, how were you even standing with all that damage?”

  “I… got used to it over time. He didn’t… start out that bad.”

  “They never do.”

  “Thank you. So much.”

  “Thank me by letting me beat the living hell out of that guy.”

  “You’d better not. But… maybe… you could ask one of the guys on the team to… talk to him?”

  “Are you serious? You wanna stay with him? No, honey, no amount of talking is gonna fix him.”

  “No, I meant like… talk him into not killing me for leaving him.”

  “Oh… Yeah. That I could probably do. Just give me his name and address.”

  You downed another pill, and started feeling better, while Izzy scribbled on a note for you. You took it and read it, and stuffed it down your other back pocket.

  “You should stay here tonight, just in case he decides to try anything. And call me if you need anything, Marcus and I are still living here, so we’re close, okay?”

  She seemed to hesitate about something.

  “What is it?”

  “Um… do you know Jack Daven?”

  “Who?”

  “He’s a kid who interns at the science division.”

  “Oh, Jackie. Yeah, unfortunately I do know who he is.”

  He was the kid you threw head-first into a wall.

  “I just… I think he might have something to do with your mole situation.”

  “What? Why would you think that?”

  “A while back, he came to me saying that science had sent him with some paperwork that needed to be signed, but when I looked at it, I realised that it was actually for research, and I told him that. And he laughed it off saying that he’d just made a mistake, but that didn’t seem very likely, because the forms he had were for release of testing materials. They wouldn’t send an errand-boy to retrieve those, they’re too dangerous. At the time I figured that maybe he’d been sent with an escort, for learning purposes, and that I just never saw them. But, now with the investigation, I think there might have been more to it than that. I was just too scared to... I didn’t know who to trust with it.”

  “You can always trust me. Thank you, Izzy, I’m so sorry that I ever thought of you as incompetent.”

  “Forgive me and I’ll forgive you.”

  “Done.”

  You ran full speed back to Ops, and almost collided with the automatic door to the control centre. Marcus was working at a station to the left, and smiled without looking up as he heard you. Anita was at the centre console, with her back to you.

  “Damned it, why do all automatic doors move so fucking slowly?”

  “Ah, I hear my future daughter-in-law has entered the premises.”

  “Shut it, Chocoreno.”

  “What did you just call me?”

  “Choco-reno, the clue’s in the name, máma.”

  “Ay, loco, today’s not a good day to test me.”

  “Why, does máma need a hug?”

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Fine. How about some nice chocolate instead? I hear there might be some steep discounts on a couple of brands.”

  “Mujer… did you burst in here for a reason? Because if not, I’ll burst you right back out.”

  “Hah, I’d like to see you try.”

  She huffed.

  “As you wish.”

  You caught a glimpse of Marcus’ expression as it shifted from bemused to genuinely worried, when Anita turned and came towards you.

  “Mooom…”

  She ignored him and tried to grab you, but your ghost hands caught hers before she could make contact, and they were much stronger than your physical hands.   She definitely had super-strength, that much was obvious right away, and she wasn’t holding back. You could feel your strength begin to drain, so you changed tactics. You flooded the room with energy, and then drew it back to compact it all around yourself, creating that same kind of barrier that the Inventor hadn’t been able to break through, despite his genius belt-modification.   And then you just stood there, perfectly still to conserve energy, while she tried in vain to push you out of the room.

  “Mom, stop it, right now!”

  As her focus momentarily shifted towards Marcus, you saw the smile that played in her features. She was just having fun, testing your strength and flexing her own, whilst getting some frustration out of her system, knowing full well that you could take it.   Feeling certain she wouldn’t kill you for it, you grabbed the opportunity.   You let the wall of energy disappear as she was leaning against it with all her might, and as the barrier fell, so did Anita – right into your arms.   It was a bit like trying to catch a running bull, and the impact was certainly painful, but you ignored it and just hugged her to you.   She scrambled out of your grip, but you just smiled at her, because you knew she enjoyed every moment of it.

  “I have to say, I’ve never had to fight my way into a hug before.”

  “That wasn’t a hug, loco.”

  “Yes, it was, and you know it. Do you feel better now, or do you need another?”

  She was actually contemplating another round, which prompted Marcus to step in between you.

  “Do I have to remind both of you that you’re pregnant, hermosa? Playful or not, you’re not fighting each other again, now, tell me why you were moving so fast that the doors were too slow for you?”

   Oh, for fucks sake, why where you so easily distracted?

  “Right… We should probably talk in private. Considering the fact that it’s only been two hours since we sat in your office looking at houses – a hell of a lot’s happened.”

  He led the way towards the door, and you shot a look at Anita, over your shoulder.

  “Raincheck on that hug?”

  “I’ll boogie with you anytime, loco.”

  “That’s how you boogie? And you call me ‘loco’.”

  “Oh, yes. You’ve earned that one, many times over.”

 Authors’ Note: I love criticism, don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@blueeyesatnight​ @farfromjustordinary @allmyspideys @hrk-fic-recs @strawberryperegrine @lucrezia-thoughts @computeringturtle @sarahjkl82-blog

[babyboy-bangtan]

By Chance Chapters 9-10

A misunderstanding gone viral puts you on BTS’s radar, which leads to a series of events that finally culminate with you meeting them for the first time.

✚ Pairing: Sub!BTS/Female Reader ✚ Word Count: 2.8K ✚ Rating: M ✚ Warnings: None. ✚ A/N: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Read on AO3 / Chapters 1-4 /  Chapters 5-8

Chapter 9: The Guests

"Do you already know which artist is performing that day?" Your friend asks over the phone while you eat your toast with one hand and hold a script with the other. Reading it doesn't need your full attention, and based on what this movie seems to be about it doesn't look like it deserves it anyway.

"No, not yet." You reply absentmindedly, taking another bite of your toast while seriously contemplating just giving up on this script halfway through reading it. You doubt it's redeemable at this point. "It's in like a month anyway. They said they would tell me first before announcing it, though."

"This is so exciting!" She almost squeals, and you close the script before throwing it in the trash. You lost count of how many times it was written that the male protagonist couldn't keep his eyes from your cleavage. "I can't believe you're hosting again. I've been waiting for this to happen for years!" You can't help but laugh at her dramatics.

"It feels as surreal as the first time, honestly." You eat the last bite of your toast and pour yourself another glass of orange juice. You did enough freaking out to last a lifetime when you hosted the show for the first time a couple years ago, so this time you're excited but definitely not on the verge of a nervous breakdown like last time.

"Who do you think will be performing?" She asks, and you realize that you hadn't thought about that at all. "Oh my god what if it's BEYONCÉ?" She damn near screams that last part, and your brain immediately screams NO at that. You're still embarrassed at what happened last year, and you don't know when you'll be able to face her again without feeling mortified. 

"Who knows?" You quickly reply. "Maybe it'll be like Ed Sheeran or something."

"Maybe." She responds, way less excited than when she thought Beyoncé was a possibility. "Anyways, tell me when you know, okay? My break is almost done so I gotta go."

"Will do. Bye, love you!"

"Love you too, bye!" You hang up and stretch your arms over your head, already feeling stressed.

What if it was Beyoncé? It would be the third time you see her and even though she was incredibly lovely when you apologized and explained what happened the first time you met, that did nothing to erase the embarrassment you still feel today. You don't really think she would perform in a regular episode with you as the guest either, but now you can't help but feel anxious about it.

They said they were going to tell you who the artist was in the next few days, so for now all you can do is wait and try to not overthink too much.

Easier said than done.

Three hours ago, taking a nap because it was raining and the temperature had dropped just enough for it to be perfect for sleeping had seemed like a great idea. It's not the first time you do it, the day called for it, and since you didn't have to work today it was okay to relax and rest for a bit considering that in a couple days you'll start shooting again.

Completely harmless.

Except it wasn't.

You wake up thanks to some very loud thunder, and you snuggle deeper into your covers to continue sleeping. Another thunder disrupts you again, so you decide to look at the time and see if it's even worth it to try and sleep some more. But instead of being greeted with the time once you turn your phone on, you're greeted with 50 missed calls and texts from over 30 conversations.

"What the fuck?" You mumble to yourself, rubbing your eyes to try and see a little better.

Around 30 of the missed calls are from friends, and the rest are from your publicist and agent. You scroll down the conversations until you reach the message you got first, and the name makes you think you might understand what happened.

SNL Producer.

2 hours ago.

Hello [Y/N]! I'm just writing you to let you know before we post it on social media, that the musical guest on your episode will be BTS. See you soon!

Well, now you have no doubt that's definitely it.

You read through the messages as fast as you can and manage to reply to several before you're interrupted by your publicist calling.

"Hi, sorry. I was taking a nap." You quickly say.

"Don't worry, I just wanted to let you know that the internet exploded two hours ago."

"Because of BTS?" You ask, pulling the covers off of you and sitting on the edge of your bed. "That's not news, it happens every other week."

"Well, yes, true—" She agrees. "—but we don't care about those times, we care about this now because it involves you." She pauses for a second. "Check what I just sent you." You remove your phone from your ear and put her on speaker before opening the message notification.

It's the screenshot of an Entertainment Weekly tweet.

Exclusive: @BTS_twt and [Y/N] will finally meet and we couldn't be more excited

4,5K replies, 190K retweets, 380K likes.

"How the fuck did that get so many likes?" You blurt out, eyes wide. Your hear your publicist laugh heartily.

"It's more now, actually. The screenshot is from 10 minutes ago. And it's because BTS retweeted it."

"Oh, right." You say, shaking your head at yourself. You should've known. "That makes sense."

"It would be even better if you had a twitter account yourself so you could retweet and even send them someth—"

"My mental health." You interrupt her, rolling your eyes as you fall back again on the bed. You've lost count of how many times she's tried to have you make new accounts already. "Remember how I had to start taking antidepressants because of social media?"

"Right, yeah. The mental health thing." She sighs. "You could always have someone manage them instead of yourself, you know."

"Yeah, and then I'd be constantly checking what's been posted and what people have replied to every post." You hate talking to her about this, because even though she's great at her job and mostly understanding, she still complains about what a loss it is that you're not on Instagram and Twitter.

"Fine. I'll drop it." She pauses for a second. "Anyway, the reason why I called is to know how much do you know about these guys."

"I know a bunch of their songs. I've been listening to that song they did with Nicki, Idol— it's so catchy and the video is so random but so great." You conveniently leave out the detail that the reason you like the video so much is because they look beautiful in those suits while simultaneously looking like the cutest human beings on Earth with their other colorful outfits— especially in those sweaters with cartoon characters and the ripped jeans. "I actually watched a bunch of their music videos back when the whole behind the scenes stuff happened." Moments from their Blood, Sweat and Tears music video pop into your mind, but you immediately redirect your thoughts elsewhere. That video makes you feel way too many things that you should not be feeling while talking to your publicist. "They're so talented." You quickly add, sincerely. "I was thinking about watching some interviews soon to see what they're like. I haven't really watched any of that."

"Good! I was going to tell you to do that. These guys are like a publicity machine. If they approve of you, their fans will like you."

"Weeell..." You say, grimacing a little. You're not so sure about that. "Either that happens or they see me as a threat to them and decide I'm not good enough to be near them, and get a hashtag calling me a demon trending first worldwide."

"Well, based on the replies to that tweet I think many of them are excited. The international fans at least, I don't know about their Korean fanbase."

"And also, do not call them a publicity machine. They're actual people, you know." You sigh. "And that's not the reason why I will try to know more about them. It would be disrespectful to meet them without knowing anything about them. And please, stop seeing artists as only publicity opportunities. I told you I hate that!"

"That's literally my job, love. And whatever your good person reasoning is, I don't care. Just do that." She pauses. "And now I have to leave you, because unlike you I actually have to work today. See ya." She hangs up before you can say anything, and you take a deep breath.

She can be a goddamn handful, but even when she acts without emotions she always does things the way you want them and is very accommodating. She's good at her job.

You finally get out of bed and walk to the kitchen, where you left your laptop. But before you can do anything, you have an incoming FaceTime call from your best friend. She must've just read your reply to her 50 angry texts because you didn't tell her who the guest artist was going to be on your Saturday Night Live episode before the rest of the world found out.

"Heeeeeeey." You say innocently once her face appears on screen.

"Why didn't you tell me?! I had to find out on Twitter!"

"Okay, to be fair, you found out before I did. I was dead asleep when the producer texted me." You leave the phone standing against a glass of water and open your laptop. "So I had no chance to tell you before they announced it."

"Ugh, fine." She groans, rolling her eyes. "Anyways, are you excited?"

"I haven't had a chance to feel anything. I woke up to a thousand texts and calls and then my publicist called me." You open Youtube and start typing BTS to see what suggestions pop up first.

"Oh right, cause you went viral again. People on Twitter lost their shit over it."

"Yeah but they always do when BTS does something so it's not like it's new." You reply, a bit distracted.

BTS on crack?

"Okay, yeah. That's true." She agrees. "What are you doing?"

"Homework." You reply, scrolling through the endless results you got after clicking BTS on crack.

"Alright then, keep your secrets." She jokes, shaking her head. "I have to go anyway, I'm going out tonight." You blow a kiss in her direction.

"Have fun!"

"I always do! Bye!" She hangs up as you open a video titled "bts being crackheads for 5 mins straight".

You only need to watch a couple minutes to realize what type of videos these are. You have seen a couple of yourself that are edited similarly, but they were titled "[Y/N] being chaotic in interviews" and another one about you being extra— and you'd thought they were very funny.

A recommended video catches your eye, because it has hundreds of thousands of views.

RUNBTS 1-23 Best Moments

You have no idea what it is, but judging by the amount of views and the tiny amount of dislikes, it must be something good.

Time to start watching.

Chapter 10: The Surprise

"Do you think he will be angry at us for keeping it as a secret?" Hoseok asks, ear pointed at the bathroom door. He's doing his best to listen if the shower is still running, which means that Jungkook is not coming out just yet.

"No, he'll be too excited to be angry." Namjoon replies, waving his hand dismissively. "Jimin, don't blurt it out as soon as he comes here." He warns him, and Jimin looks completely shocked, not to mention offended. He searches for the support of the other guys with his eyes, but he finds that they're all looking at him the same way Namjoon is.

"What? Me?" He asks, pointing at himself. "Why me?"

"You're a terrible liar when you're excited about something." Taehyung says, and Jimin just stares at him with an angry pout. 

"I'm not." He says, crossing his arms.

"You are." Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok and Jin say at the same time. Jimin refuses to dignify that with an answer, so he just stays silent with his angry pout still in place.

"The shower stopped." Hoseok says suddenly, craning his neck to listen better— and everyone goes silent. Not too long after, they hear it opening and Jungkook comes out drying his hair already dressed for bed.

"What's going on?" He asks, stopping suddenly when he sees them all standing there in the most suspicious way possible.

"Nothing!" Jimin suddenly says, way more excited than they had told him he was allowed to look.

"Jungkook, when did you say [Y/N] was going to be on SNL?" Hoseok asks, trying to not give himself away with the tone of his voice.

"April 13, why?" He continues to dry his hair, looking at the boys with narrowed eyes. He doesn't know what they're trying to do, but based on that question it seems like it has something to do with you. Maybe they want to watch the episode with him, since they're going to be in America by the time it airs anyway.

"So, we didn't tell you this before it was truly confirmed because we wanted it to be a surprise..." Namjoon starts, and Jungkook stops his movements.

They can't be telling him what he thinks they're telling him, right?

There's no way.

"But we'll be performing on SNL on April 13." He finishes. The towel drops from Jungkook's hands, and he just stares at them with no clear expression in his face.

"I thought he'd be more excited." Taehyung whispers in a confused tone to Namjoon, who lifts up a finger in response, signaling for him to wait.

"Give him a sec—"

"WHAT?!"

After a lot of happy screaming, a half an hour long videocall to his parents and a big glass of warm milk to calm him down, Jungkook is finally sitting down on the couch with the rest of the boys so they can explain how things went down.

"Jimin-Hyung, I can't believe you didn't tell me." Jungkook says, shaking his head with a surprised smile.

"We wanted to keep it from him, too." Yoongi says. "But he listened to us talking about it and we had to let him in."

"It was really hard to keep it a secret!" Jimin complains. "Because I was so excited. But I did so well, didn't I?" The rest don't really pay attention to him, except for Namjoon, who nods and gives him a thumbs up. Jimin isn't pleased with so little praise, but he takes it anyway. It's better than nothing.

"Ah, I'm so nervous." Jungkook says, unable to stop himself from grinning even though his face already hurts from smiling so much. He brings his knees up to his chest so he can hide his face in them, suddenly blushing. Even after he explicitly heard you talking about them, you still feel so far away from them that it almost doesn't feel real that they're going to meet you in a month.

"She already said she wanted to meet us—" Jin adds casually, and Namjoon has to hold back a sigh of relief because he's finally talking about you without getting nervous two seconds later. "—so you've got nothing to worry about."

He's come a long way since his confession a few months ago— even if Namjoon and Yoongi are still the only ones who know about his secret— and that lifts a huge weight from Namjoon's shoulders. It means that it's less likely he'll become instantly flustered the moment they see you for the first time, because if Jin gets nervous because of you in front of the cameras, everyone will notice and then talk about it— and Namjoon is sure that is the last thing Jin wants.

It doesn't take them long to realize it's futile to try and talk about the logistics of their performance with Jungkook right now, because he's barely paying attention to them. His grin has remained steady and unmoving from the moment they told him they would perform on the same day you're hosting, and they know it's going to continue that way for the next few days.

He'll be able to focus again once the initial shock passes and he finally realizes that yes, this is actually happening.

They are going to finally meet you.

Long after everyone has gone to bed, Jungkook lies still awake in bed, fully aware that he's not sleeping any time soon. He's still feeling giddy with happiness; he can't believe that they're going to actually meet you, and in a place where they will actually get to spend time with you, at that. He will get to talk to you, to actually be close to you and maybe, if he's lucky and brave enough, he might even get to hug you.

He'd fantasized about maybe seeing you in an awards show one day, but this is so much better than anything he could've imagined.

April 13 can't come soon enough.

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, asks, whatever you like is more than welcomed!

[hogwartselementumrp]

Congratulations Tasha! I would like to say THANK YOU!! Skylar is one of my favarite pre-written characters, he is so interesting and has the amount of plots you can develop with him are endless! The connections you wrote are super interesting, and i kinda wanna claim them all (i won’t because i want you to be super involved and plot with everyone... but i want to...)

Please send in your account soon! And I hope you enjoy your time in elementum!

OOC Information

NAME/ALIAS: Tasha

PREFERRED PRONOUN: She/her

AGE: 19!

TIMEZONE: GMT-8 (I think?? I’ve never done that before, I always just say PST)

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I usually get on every day, but if not then I’ll get on the next day for sure. I do have two 12+ hour days a week though, so those days I’ll only be on late if at all.

HOW DID YOU FIND THE RP (NEW MEMBERS): I was just scrolling through the next gen rp tags, I think. Maybe the harry potter rp tag, one of the two.

Character Information

NAME OF THE CHARACTER: Skylar Sheehan

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS:

Honestly whenever I write these things they’re super casual so I hope that’s okay. Anyway, Skylar’s the biggest sweetheart in my eyes, but basically has what I like to call a stranger-phobia. As a kid, he always had these weird abilities, and felt like a complete outsider. After discovering he was a wizard, as it says in the bio, he was excited but when he got to Hogwarts and found out hardly anyone shared his abilities, even hated him for them, his self worth started spiraling. The fear of people only grew with every attack. So now, when he’s around muggles he’s surprisingly more comfortable than in the wizarding community.

He was always really close with his parents, especially after leaving Hogwarts. But now that he doesn’t have that safety net of living with them, he’s become more fearful again. I imagine now that he’s back, he’d try and avoid people recognizing him from their previous years, and would try to be hiding the fact that he’s a spirit elemental. He’s very loyal and sweet and would hardly say a bad thing about anyone, but it takes getting to know him to get down to that soft core. Once someone is close to him, he automatically thinks that they’re worth more than him. Even if someone has managed to be in his comfort level though, he tries to pretend that he’s alright. In his mind, he’s not worth the time that someone might spend worrying if he told them everything. So instead, he tells them nothing.

I also have this headcanon that he’s really into music, and though he isn’t in the orchestra or choir, he’s been asked several times by his roommates why his guitar never comes out from under his bed (unless they’re not around.)

ANY CHANGES YOU WISH TO MAKE?: If I could change his faceclaim to Devon Bostick, that would be great. And maybe his birthday so he’s still 17 instead of 18?

DESIRED SHIPS, IF ANY: Nothing specific. Chemistry, lol

TITLES: I don’t think he’d have any tbh :P

RELATIONSHIPS:

Muggle Cousin: Skylar has a cousin who knows he’s a wizard and about his magic. She just so happened to be at his place for a family dinner when an owl came flying in his living room window and dropped the letter on his lap, and read it before they even showed his parents. She’s the only family member outside of his late parents who know about him, and sends her letters once in a while to lie about how great school is. (Obviously not playable, I just wanted to write something about her.)

Friend: Honestly someone that can make Skylar stop feeling worried all the time when he’s around them. Someone that sees him for the ball of fluff that he is behind all the two-word conversations and avoided eye contact. They’d probably need to be willing to push him, but given he’s a bit of a pushover already, that shouldn’t be a problem.

Someone from the Past: This can be a pleasant or unpleasant relationship. When he attended Hogwarts in the past, he was picked on a lot and even if he tries to hide who he is now, I’m sure he’d still be recognizable. This could even just be someone that was in one of his classes that knows who he is, to be honest.

Any of the Potters: Though Harry probably didn’t tell any of his kids about Skylar’s elemental abilities, he feels like he’s not in as much danger from the Potter children than he does with everyone else. Something about their dad being the last person he had to depend on meant a lot, and though he doubts they know anything about Harry helping Skylar, they may be the people he could go to in case of a real emergency.

FAMILY RELATIONSHIPS: Before they passed away, Skylar depended a lot on his parents. They really were the only people he could talk to, even if they didn’t know what it was like having magic. Other than whatever tutor he had or Harry Potter, they were the only people he really hung out with much. Now that they’re gone, he can’t explain how much he misses them, and avoids the topic so he won’t break down in front of others.

PARA SAMPLE (I used this as a muse thing for when I played Lorcan Lovegood)

Stillness. That was all someone may see if they were to walk into the room… and light. Light everywhere, in the colours of the sheets on the beds, on the aged stone walls, all over the floor that was constantly being cleaned. It was everywhere, and it was the cause of why Lorcan had to squint when his eyelids fluttered open, stillness broken. It was a shame, he thought, it must have seemed so peaceful, until he woke up. But what had happened to land him in the hospital wing? He’d barely pondered it for a moment before he sat up, and remembered instantly as a pain shot through the back of his head.

“Ouch.” The brunet murmured under his breath, slowing down as he finished sitting up.

It was just a moment later when the nurse was rushing out of her windowed office and in to help him, pouring him some water and handing him a pill.

“Take it, Sweety. It’ll make you feel better.” But then she looked at him funny, watching him examine the pill.

“It’s a lovely colour.” He told her just before popping it into his mouth, drinking the water to swallow it with.

Ah, yes. Falling down stairs was a painful thing to endure. Probably not as painful as what some of the Quidditch players ended up in there for, but the headaches still weren’t the most fun of things to deal with. It wasn’t bothering Lysander much now, not now that the pill was starting through his digestive tract. Magic was lovely, he told himself as he stretched. It was a lovely morning… or was it afternoon? It was slightly warm for morning, so it must be a little later than when he normally woke up. Then again, the hospital wing was in the middle of the building, whereas his common room was in a tower. It was much colder up there. Louder too.

“Have you ever considered painting the ceiling?” He was still in that dreamy state from just waking up, his mind being even more in the clouds than it was most of the time. The most wondrous things came into his mind when he’d just woken up, or even while he was asleep. Usually he kept a notebook under his pillow, lest he forget later in the day.

“The ceiling, Dear?” This was when the nurse started fearing there was something more wrong than just a headache.

“It would be lovely, then patients would wake up and see the paintings and be able to experience the beauty of it right at the beginning of their day. I know it would definitely make me feel better.”

“We’ll consider it.” And that was enough to get Lorcan to stop talking.

“It would be quite astonishing though.” He said after a minute or so, looking at his bedside table curiously. There was a chocolate frog, and then the typical jar of flowers that the nurse left beside each patient. He was sure that they were there for the same reason that he would love to see art on the ceiling, but he supposed, to most people, flowers were a more more ‘normal’ form of adding beauty to a room. Sitting beside the bedside table was his bag, which he quickly reached into, grabbing his little white sketchbook and starting to doodle the shape the ceiling, just with little designs coating it: something he’d be able to spend hours working on, if he had more than just an average sketch pencil with him.

He drew silently for a good half hour, before he looked towards the doors because of voices on the other side. Voices calling the nurse’s name. As a Quidditch player on the Hufflepuff team and someone in the yellow and black scarf walked in, his eyes fell on the girl in the middle, limping. Oh, so he’d missed the game. He figured that would happen. At least he knew about what time it was. Ah, well. He supposed he’d have to ask Lysander about the game later… but now, he figured it was time to head out of the hospital wing.