#ely loses her damn mind

[practisingyi]

MELVIN OKAY? JT FIELDS? PARADISE? GIVE ME TOMMY ADKINS BACK???

[thursdaygxrls]

thin ice — one

part one | part two | part three

summary — she didn’t handle the sports section of the campus newspaper, but apparently, she did this week. interviewing hockey players was easy, though—unless one of those players happened to be peter parker.

pairing — uni hockey player!peter parker x fem!journalist!reader

disclaimers — i don’t own peter parker. and pls don't come for me with the accuracy of this situation i'm begging

warnings — reader is referred to as ‘kitty’ (there’s a reason, i promise), slight one sided enemies to lovers, sewer slide jokes (very briefly), possible maybe slightly ooc, and very unedited

“You’re joking. You’re pulling the biggest prank I’ve ever seen, you are the impractical joker,” she huffs out, her eyes wide as furiously clicks her mouse, “I’m gonna die. I’m writing the note tonight—farewell, my lovely!”

“Woah, okay,” MJ, her roommate, had only just entered the room when she was bombarded with a sudden rant. She didn’t even have time to take down her ponytail of thin, red braids before her eardrums were assaulted.

“I mean it.” Spinning her chair, she meets MJ’s eyes.

“I literally just got here,” MJ plops down on the bed in front of the desk, “Care to tell me why you’re writing that note?”

“I’m a dumb, dumb girl, that’s why,” she groans in response.

“We already knew that.” MJ’s words only cause the girl in front of her to shoot daggers with her gaze; “Sorry, sorry. Why are you a dumb, dumb girl?”

“God, okay, so,” she lets out a loud sigh, “Eli is gonna be gone for the rest of the month—Europe or something, good for him. Anyways, they needed someone to cover his assignments for him until he gets back, and I volunteered, but, like, only to be nice, y’know? I did it as an obligation. But…”

“But?” MJ pressed.

“I just got an email, and it’s me,” she grumbled, “They’re putting me on Eli’s assignments.”

“Hm, I see,” MJ’s lips curl into a frown as she gently rubs the girl’s arm, “Too much work?”

“Oh, no, my stuff’s easy,” she waved her off, “Just reading the poetry submissions. I mean, it can be exhausting, but it’s not too bad.”

“Then what is it?” MJ cocks her head.

“Eli…Eli does sports,” she shuddered. MJ couldn’t contain the loud laugh that slipped out, clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle it.

“You’re worried about sports?” She giggles, her eyes twinkling.

“It’s not funny!” She smacks MJ lightly, “Sports aren’t unbearable or anything, but, like, why me? I don’t know enough! I’ll screw it up, I’ll lose my spot, they’ll stick me back in—”

“Relax,” MJ grabs her shoulders, bringing her closer, “First off, no, you won’t lose your spot, we both know they’d be losing their minds without you. Second, they wouldn’t just throw it on you if they thought you’d give them bad work, right?” She eyes MJ almost suspiciously. There’s a momentary stare-down before she relents.

“I hate that you’re right,” she sighs, spinning her chair around. MJ stops the spin by putting her hands down on the arms of the chair.

“Thought you’d be used to it by now,” she giggles, “So, what do you have to do?”

“I don’t know.” Is the mumbled reply.

“You didn’t even look?” MJ laughs again, “You were losing your mind, and you didn’t even know what you’re doing?”

“I’m sorry that I’m sensitive,” she huffs. Her gaze moves back to the laptop before her. The email is open on the screen, so she begins scrolling through it, MJ reading the words over her shoulder. Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head when she gets to the end.

“Fuck this,” she almost slams her laptop shut, but is stopped short by MJ.

“Slow down!” The redhead slaps her hand out of the way to read the rest of the email.

The ESU hockey team had made it to the NCAA Division I Men's Ice Hockey tournament for the first time in six years—and they were doing damn good. Eli had been tasked with interviewing the team captain as well as a few other star players, but, of course, it was no longer Eli's job.

"Oh, come on,” MJ rolled her eyes, “They gave you a Google Doc with questions, all you have to do is ask them and write down their response."

“That's the problem, I have to ask,” she shivered.

"You've done interviews before!" MJ was ready to smack her.

"With professors! And cool artsy people! Not hockey guys," she cringed, “I bet half of them are in a frat. They're probably gonna be assholes and tell me I have cooties."

“Are you twelve?” MJ groaned, “You sort of lucked out with this—half the work is already done for you! You don’t need to write up any questions!” A sigh left her lips as she took on a more comforting tone: “If it makes you feel any better, Harry is on the team.”

Ah, Harry. MJ had been seeing him for a little over a month by now. He wasn’t a bad guy at all. A little full of himself, but nice enough to talk to. Her eyes roved over the list of players she was set to interview. Sure enough, Harry Osborn was there. So was Miles Morales, who was described as an extremely promising freshman. Zack Coleson, who had the highest number of goals for the season. Last on the list was the team captain: Peter Parker.

“I can talk to Harry,” MJ offered, “I can let him know that it’s you doing the interviews. I’ll make sure he tells them to go easy on you—”

“No, no,” she shook her head, “That might make it worse. And they already know that it’s not Eli coming. Or they should, at least”

“You sure?” MJ quirked a brow, her features crinkling in a way that was only intelligible as concern.

“They’ll be walking on eggshells around me if they know I’m chickenshit, I won’t get a good interview,” she sighed. Even if the interview wasn’t what she wanted to do, she was going to have to. And she would do a good job—a great job.

“You got this, Kitty,” MJ squeezed her shoulders. The nickname pulled a smile from her, and she gave into MJ’s touch.

“We’ll see about that,” she relented. Her eyes traveled back to the computer screen. The interviews were scheduled two days from now at the Stark Memorial Rink.

“Hey, MJ,” she hummed, “Could you grab me my noose?”

The rink was colder than she expected. The empty stands provided no body heat, not to mention there was a literal sheet of ice on the floor. Tugging at the strap of her messenger bag, she took slow, careful steps to the plexiglass.

Clink.

Her eyes widened. There were around ten to fifteen guys in full gear out on the ice, and another ten to fifteen more on a bench near the glass or flitting around the edge of the rink. She was nervous, so she got there early. Now, she was stuck watching them practice.

Leaving was so tempting. She could go back to her dorm, or better yet, leave college entirely. She could just give up and fall off the grid, cut her credit cards, throw her phone in the ocean, sail off to Greece—

“Hello?”

She cursed the muffled voice that pulled her back into reality. Blinking, she found that standing before her was one of the very hockey players she’d seen skating on the rink before her. He was tall, and gear under his black and purple jersey made him appear far more bulkier than she theorized he was. He slipped his helmet off to reveal brown, curly hair that was drenched in sweat.

“Hi,” she replied, trying not to sound as nervous as he would. He cocked his head at her as he popped out his mouth guard.

“This is a closed practice,” he said, though, he didn’t sound all too upset that she was here.

“Oh, yeah, I know,” she nodded quickly, her fingers toying with the strap of her bag again, “I’m a bit early, I’m supposed to be interviewing some people on the team. I’m—”

“Kitty?” She was interrupted by the sound of a voice as well as skates scraping across the ice. Glancing past the guy in front of her, she saw Harry slide off the ice and clomp to benches where they currently were.

“Hey, Harry.” Her lips were screwed up in a tight grin. He’d heard MJ call her Kitty once, and now it was the only thing he’d refer to her as.

“Kitty?” Mystery guy repeated the name with a hint of intrigue.

“It’s not my real name, my friends just call me that,” she shook her head.

“What’re you doing here?” Harry asked, swinging an arm around the shoulder of the guy in front of her.

“I’m Eli’s replacement,” she explained, trying to plaster a friendly smile to her lips, “I’m doing the interviews.”

“Aw, shit, why didn’t MJ tell me we got the cool Kitty-cat on the case?” Harry grinned.

“Could you try to never say those words again? Really hated it, thanks,” her nose crinkled.

“You got it.” He tried to point finger guns at her, but with the thick gloves on, it just looked like he was pointing his whole hand.

“Hey,” he started up again, “You’re a little early, so practice isn’t over yet, but we’re almost done. It’s just the four of us, right?”

“Right,” she nodded in response. It was a relief that they’d been briefed on the situation.

“Alright, well, I’m Harry, obviously, Miles and Zack are on the ice somewhere, and this right here—” Harry jostled the shoulders of the Mystery guy, “—is Peter. Oh captain, my captain!”

Peter chuckled as Harry clapped him on the back. The noise that emanated from the friendly hit was harsh, but Peter didn’t move a muscle.

“Right,” she nodded, “So, I figured we could do them individually? There’s some sort of specific questions for each of you.”

“Sounds good, Kitty,” Harry replied. She’d smack him if he said that name again.

“Sit tight for a bit,” Peter spoke up. Even with the stubble on his chin, his smile gave him a boyish appearance. He looked her up and down quickly, “We can try to wrap up practice early.”

'A bit' ended up feeling like forever. At first, she tried to distract herself with her phone, but it didn't work: she would open apps, scroll through them, then close them just to reopen them over and over again. So she organized her bag, which took about five minutes. Time seemed to tic by in a tauntingly slow manner. It was only when she saw a few of the players emerge from the locker room did she let out a breath of relief. She immediately sucked that breath back when she realized that she would actually have to talk to some of them.

Harry went first. It was easy enough to go through the questions with him. It was like talking to an over-eager relative at a family reunion, one who was just dying to talk about all the new things they're doing. Miles wasn't all that bad to interview, either. He was a lot more nervous than she was. His awkward pauses and constant strings of 'um' and 'uh' was almost comforting. Then came Peter.

"Kitty," he grinned as soon as he saw her seated on the bench next to the rink. He no longer wore his gear—just a hoodie and a pair of gray sweats. His hair, however, was still wet and tousled. She gave him a tight lipped smile in return.

"That's not my name," she replied. Before she had time to properly introduce herself, his raspy chuckle was already echoing through the open arena.

"You said that's what your friends call you, right?" He cocked his head as he sat down on the other edge of the bench.

"You're not—” If she could just make it through the interview without fuss, she'd be one person away from being free, "—right. That's what my friends call me."

"I'm going to be recording this, just so I can reference it later," she explained almost monotonously.

"This isn't my first time," he responded with another light laugh. She had to physically bite her tongue to fight off any comments. A soft click sounded from her phone as she started a new voice memo. Her eyes scanned the list of questions on the page before her. Some she'd already asked to Harry and Miles: How does it feel to make the tournament? What is the atmosphere of the team right now? She chose a fresh question to start with.

"What's it like to be the captain of this team? Are you proud? Overwhelmed?" She asked, her voice taking on a new tone closer to a news anchor than a regular person. Peter's lips curled up at the change.

"I'm proud, yeah," he nodded, his voice smooth, "This is a great group. But we all work our asses off, so I'm not surprised by how far we've come. Being their captain is really something."

"And—"

"Do you normally do sports? For the paper, I mean." Before she could even get her next sentence out, he interrupted her. Her grip on the papers in her hand tightened.

"No, not normally," she grit out, "And going along with your thoughts on being captain, what about making it to the tournament this year?"

"It's the best feeling in the world. It's something I've been chasing after for years now, finally getting to it is just...sort of indescribable." Even when his tone is nothing but sincere, he can't wipe the cocky grin from his lips.

"I can imagine," she smiled tautly in reply, "What was it like working your way up to captain? Was it a personal journey, or did you get support from the team?"

"I'd say it was an even mix of both," he hummed, "Do you like hockey?"

"What?" She furrowed her brows.

"Are you a hockey fan?" He reiterated, "Because our next game is home, and it's sort of packed, but I could get you some tickets assuming you don't have some already—"

"No—Peter," she let out a frustrated huff, tapping on her phone to momentarily pause the recording, "This is an interview, not social hour."

"Aren't interviews inherently social?" His smirk was infuriating.

"I mean that I ask the questions, you answer them," she grumbled, "Do you act like this with Eli? Are you not taking me serious because I'm a woman?"

"What?" His smirk fell immediately, "What? No—no. I'm taking you seriously, I take women very seriously. I'm all for women. They're great."

"Then can we just do this interview and get it over with?" She sighed, her finger hovering over the unpause button. He nodded, but before she could resume the interview, he quickly added: "But do you want tickets?"

Ignoring the question, she carried on. Peter seemed to mellow out after a while and didn't interrupt again. It was almost surprising how well he'd listened: he was giving her real, insightful answers to her questions without a hint of flirtation. The final interview with Zack flowed easily, and she fled Stark Memorial Rink as quick as she could.

Transcribing the interviews was the easiest part. Days later, she would be hunched over her computer in the darkness of her shared dorm, playing and replaying the recordings and typing out the words onto the screen. Her concentration was briefly interrupted, though, when the door opened and a stream of light threaded its way through the room and onto the back of her head.

"Light bad!" She slapped her hands over her eyes, "Light very bad!"

"You're gonna go blind if you keep staring at your computer in the dark," MJ spoke in a warning tone, but ultimately closed the door.

"Then blind I must go," she sighed, swiveling on her chair to look at her roommate, "How was class?"

"Normal," MJ shrugged, sliding her bag off her shoulders, "But I have a little something for you."

"Something for little ol' me?" She gasped in dramatized delight.

"Yes," MJ grinned widely as her hand reached for the zipper of her bag, "Close your eyes."

She obliged immediately, her nose scrunched in anticipation, "I hope it's a million dollars. Is it a million dollars? Am I close?"

"Almost," MJ giggled. After a moment of anticipation, MJ gently grabbed her hands and place something into them. It was thin and papery and rectangular. Opening her eyes, she looked down to see a white envelope with 'Kitty' written out on the front. Her brows furrowed at the unfamiliar handwriting.

"Is there a check for a million dollars inside?" She asked as she cocked her head.

"No clue, it's not from me," MJ shrugged.

"Then who's it from?" Her fingers slid under the lip of the envelope.

"Harry gave it to me to give to you," MJ grinned, "He said it's from Peter."

She should've sailed to Greece when she had the chance. Inside the envelope were two tickets—Empire State University versus Pennbrook University this Saturday at seven. A long groan left her lips before she finally met MJ's eyes.

"You never got me that noose I asked for."

a/n — not sure how i’m feeling abt this one guys. hockey peter has been causing me brain rot tho so i couldn’t help myself.

[mybedroomceilingsbored]

spewing whatever shit pops into my head for all my fav tma characters

ALRIGHT babes a whole entire six people wanted to see my opinions on characters so far (i just finished #103), but i don't rlly have a direction to take with this. i was thinking about giving them ratings but idek what i'd rate them ON lmao. SO!

Jon-ohoho he's so DRY and so FUNNY and somebody needs to bitch slap this man. how am i supposed to get a goofy workplace drama if he's so genre-aware?? i don't like him THAT much, but honestly the whole show would be a lot more boring without his paranoia. also was his skin rlly so bad that it took an entire MONTH to get him thoroughly moisturized? ur body is a temple, johnny boy :(

Martin-omg he's such a bean. i relate to this man a lil too much for comfort-he's bullied waaay too much by absolutely everyone in this podcast. if he reads too many statements and turns into another jon or smth i'll SWIM to the uk specifically to yell at the writers, this man is to be PROTECTED at all costs! also he SOUNDS like a fucking redhead. you can hear it in his voice. and it shows very clearly in his poetry.

Tim-hehehe ICON. s1 finale tim was honestly the greatest thing ever, the way he's changed is absolutely breaking my heart. prancing into the office during a worm attack and immediately sitting down on 20 cans of CO2 sounds EXACTLY like smth i'd do, honestly props to him for staying so calm during the whole thing. and the fact that he's fucking all these cops for information is just *chef's kiss* tbh, his entire EXISTENCE is a power move. he's got a statement coming up and i'm kinda terrified. he's been so.. depressingly realistic lately and i'm scared for him :(

Sasha/Not Sasha-sasha seemed so sweet, i wish i'd gotten to know her better before the switch! all i remember from her first vocal appearance is staring into space afterwards, trying to remember how i used to pronounce 'calliope'. i feel like her death/switch didn't hold as much gravity as it should've-i rlly wish i'd seen more of her! also, the way not sasha was the LEAST suspicious to jon-that monster's got acting CHOPS. we need her in the local theater group, HOW TF can anyone be that convincing?!?!?!

Monster Pig-last statement i listened to, so it's VERY fresh in my mind lmao. this pig deserves DEATH. i don't fucking CARE if it's "friendly", it ATE a FUCKING CLOWN. KILL ITTTTT. i am a VEGETARIAN

Michael-by FAR my favorite, the best character i've come across in quite a while, god's favorite princess <3 i adore this wonky man, he's such a legend. PEAK laugh. and he's so chaotic lmao!!! (no he absolutely did not die, what are you talking about???? that didn't happen. or Michael Shelley's tragic backstory that had me literally crying over a gd podcast, no way. i'm in DEEP denial) i adore how his first vocal appearance was just strutting into Jon's office, kidnapping a realtor, monologuing abt his identity issues, stabbing the archivist, and sashaying away. SUCH a funky dude, i adore him

Elias-he gives me bitter oldest kid vibes, this man needs therapy. what a kooky asshat, stop peeping on people.

Jude-hot in every way possible. sorry but it's TRUE. a rlly bad liar tho. not only does she speak in fucking italics, but you can tell she's giggling kicking her feet twisting her short little hairs as she's trying to get jon to shake her hand. bitch, you're sexy and you know it, SPEAK UP!!

Wormy Jane-an icon, honestly. the whole EMBODIMENT of ick. not to mention if i actually saw this woman i'd lose my SHIT, she terrifies the bejeezus outta me. her statement was what made me (sorta) stop picking at my face (for a little bit at least). i honestly wonder what she was on that made her stick her whole fucking arm in a HAUNTED WASP'S NEST. it's also so hilarious that she was camped outside Martin's apartment for WEEKS and nobody rlly questioned it-this woman is on a MISSION. slay, ick queen.

Melanie-this woman has more balls than anyone else on this damn podcast (ahem, elias mostly). we stan a girlboss with a knife-the way she was just planning to JUMP him??? melanie's 100% RIPPED, she SOUNDS like a gym rat i think. i wanna see her beat the shit outta all these ghosts :3

You're A Lighter-idk how to spell his actual name and i'm too lazy to look it up, so this is what y'all're getting. the snotty old library dude with such a kooky voice, all i could think of when i first heard him was the Kool-Aid man lmaoo. and he needs to take better care of his assistants!! EXTREMELY unsustainable :( he's like a bowerbird collecting all the shiny homicidal books.

Helen-she ATE my babygirl??!!!!?!?!!?! COMPLETELY unacceptable. i won't deny the girl's got guts for just.. chilling in Michael's creepy hallways, but COUGH UP THE CREEPY BLOND for christ's sake.

Trevor Herbert-10/10 honestly. i LOVED his statements, the vampires are SO CRAZY CREEPY and i love how he just kinda fucks around? does some light stalking? and usually ends up with a bunch of dead monsters! in essence, he looked an eldritch horror in the face, called it a slur, and whacked it with a stick. legend.

[ontherocks21]

Someday I'll Write It:

Lady Vader Part VII

In the quiet vacuum of space, Chandrila explodes and the galaxy screams.

Over the roaring in her ears, Padmé can’t make out the words, gasps, and cries of the pandemonium all around her. Holding herself together, she cradles her middle, unable to tear her eyes away from the unimaginable newsfeed she can’t bear to watch continuously crawl across the screen. She can’t breathe.  Can’t think.

All she knows is Mon Mothma hadn’t been the only one shouting at the top of her lungs.

Eventually, she loses track of how long she’s stood in horrified silence, and somehow manages to find her way home.

*****

When she arrives, Anakin greets her with terror in his eyes and a tone she’s never heard flavor his voice before.

At least, not ever with her.

“From now on, you need to keep your mouth shut.”

“Anakin,” she whispers, recoiling from the stranger standing where her husband should be.  Confusion and pain bleed across the carpet between them, but he turns away from her, ignoring her heart still begging for his comforting embrace.

Then she sees it. 

The cold sheen of remorse on his unusually pale skin.  The halting way his shoulders rise and fall. His lungs a grief-stricken bellows choking him with his own guilt.  He’s attempting to disappear in plain sight, and the last time he tried to hide his demons from her, she asked…

“What’s wrong, Ani?”

Their apartment recedes into the background, and she swears she can feel the blistering heat of that damned Tatooinian garage again.

“I had to.”

He doesn’t turn around to answer her, though her mind all too easily supplies the way rivulets of tears cascade down his chiseled cheeks.  She wills her feet to move toward him, yearns to hold him together as he’s falling apart, but her limbs refuse, leaden and sinking in unseen quicksand.  History is repeating itself though her wildly jumping nerves warn of a far greater threat this time.

Just as suddenly as he had then, Anakin spins back to her, dismay and defeat and defiance written all over his handsome face.  There’s a dangerous set to his chin and an unnerving quality to his unblinking watery gaze.  Vexation looks dashing on him but not when it looks like this.

“I had to pick. He didn’t give me a choice.” 

He’s haunted, seeing ghosts, the words gushing out of him faster and faster until he’s the one now hemorrhaging all over the floor. 

“It was a test.  He’s getting closer.  He made me pick.  Said it was my choice who to make an example of.”

She wants to say something to soothe the fragmented soul in front of her, but she is paralyzed by the unease spreading along her skin.  Her stunned silence destroys him.

“I had to, Padmé.  I had to.  I’m so sorry, but it was Chandrila because I couldn’t… Oh gods, he knew I wouldn’t…”

Collapsing at her feet, he buries his face into her belly, strangling on the other impossible choice of planet he can’t bring himself to name.  He doesn’t need to.  Her bones turn to ice, and she clings to him as fiercely as he does to her.  The world spins out from under their feet as a devastating realization creeps its way down her spine.

The Skywalkers are no longer untouchable.

Image Credit: Eli Hyder

[lizardperson]

can you feel my bass

[on ao3]

fandom: original work rating: g wc: 695 prompt: #fff270 lights and sirens for @flashfictionfridayofficial

---

"I hate it," Valerie yelled.

"What?" Eli yelled back and moved closer to her.

"I said I hate it!"

He gave her the typical Eli-look. "Oh, come on! You said you'd give it a chance!"

"Well, I did. And I hate it."

He rolled his eyes. "We've been here for a full three minutes! You promised me an hour."

"I hate you," she sighed. He wasn't wrong. And he knew her too well, that's why he had talked her into staying in this stupid club for another fifty-seven minutes before she was allowed to officially label it as a 'once and never again' experience. And she already had regrets.

"No, you don't," he countered - and again, he wasn't wrong. "Anyway, I'm going to dance now. Feel free to join me." Eli turned on his heel and dove into the crowd without waiting for an answer.

Valerie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, looking after him. "I don't dance," she grumbled to herself.

Instead, she made her way to the bar. Might as well get a drink if she had to kill an hour without losing her mind. Finally holding a beer in hand, she leaned against a wall and let her eyes wander across the room. What a ridiculous idea this had been, going 'to the club'. While the crowd was mostly her age - at least Eli hadn't dragged her to some college club or something - she still felt completely out of place and awkward as hell. And she did hate it. The music overall wasn't bad, but way too loud, the lights were too flashy, and there were too many people.

Valerie had promised Eli an hour, but nobody said she actually had to spend that time on the dancefloor, or anywhere near it for that matter, so she eventually fled outside for some fresh air, and peace and quiet. A few small groups of people stood around, chatting and smoking, and she bummed a cigarette off someone, then found a lonely corner and enjoyed the cool night air.

A voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "Hi!"

That tiny word was enough to set off blaring sirens in her head. Valerie looked up and sighed. "Oh. It's you." Great. Probably one of the last people she wanted to see tonight.

Annabelle beamed at her. "Wouldn't have taken you for the club-going type." Everyone else would have said that in a mocking tone - but not her. Why did she always have to be so damn earnest. And what was she grinning about anyway - no, not grinning. Smiling. Like she was actually happy that they had run into each other here. Valerie hated her.

"I'm not. That's why I'm standing around outside, instead of in the actual club," she informed her.

"Yeah, took me a bit to get into it, too," Annabelle chuckled. "But once you manage to let go and just forget the people around you and let the music carry you, it's actually really fun. Almost a bit of a transcendental experience sometimes."

Valerie wanted to respond with a mean comment, to make fun of her in some way, but for inexplicable reasons her usually so sharp tongue failed her. Instead, she just gave a vague "uh-huh".

"You wanna dance with me?" Annabelle's smile grew even wider, making her dimples more prominent. If it were lighter here, her many freckles and the slight wrinkles around her eyes would be more visible too. Why was she smiling so much all the time anyway…

"Doesn't your husband mind or something?" Valerie scoffed, getting a loud laugh in return.

"No, he really doesn't."

"Anyway, no."

Annabelle looked at her for a few moments, still smiling, then she nodded. "Okay. Then I will leave you to your beer. Hope you still have fun tonight."

"Sure. Whatever," Valerie grimaced.

"I'll see you around." Annabelle winked at her and finally left.

"Unfortunately," Valerie murmured to herself, looking after her. What was it with this woman and her ridiculous bouncy walk. Like she was skipping wherever she went. And did she seriously just wink at her? Valerie hated her so much. At least that's what she kept telling herself…

[anyalovesu]

we're not saints at all.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆.✧˚ four ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆.✧˚

necessary reminders

this chapter contains 🔞 , if u are a minor or uncomfortable with reading these kinds of content , click away ( or u can just skip it )

the smut is pw authenticated , pw is very easy to guess tho ( it's just so those who r uncomfortable w reading this can have the option to skip it + i'm still not very confident w my writing to i'm still trying to save face lol )

extra pw clue : 🐝

if you want to talk to me you can do that here ( ask me anything hehe ) ( i would also appreciate feedback hehe , let me know you think i'm doing right or wrong i'll make sure to keep it in mind ! )

i did not have much time to proofread this, i'll make sure to correct mistakes when i find the time to ! <3

also , mdni ! <3

Jas was on the brink of yet another panic attack, but she figured that ignoring it would do the job for the meantime. After all, she wouldn’t know how to explain to Ally how all of  sudden she was so anxious of where she stands in Tobi’s life because she knew exactly where she was. Maybe after the multiple meet-ups that can disguise itself as a date at first instead of a direct plea to be satisfied really blurred those lines. She didn’t even know which side she was toeing. 

She could go on and on about how justifiable that she is dead worried about how Tobi is right now—they are friends after all. It’s normal to worry about your friends, right? Completely nothing wrong with it. She can gaslight herself time and time again that they are friends and it’s normal to wonder why your friends don’t tell you how they are or what they are doing—because you’re friends, right? 

But it doesn’t change that fact that maybe, or a bit more possible than maybe, she’s just one of the girls he brought to bed. Another one of his casual things.

And she hates the thought of that. The thought of it made her mad at herself for letting it drag for that long. Years of trying to be someone people couldn’t lose and here she is right now being at someone’s disposal. She saw nothing of herself but a biggest hypocrite that she knew of.

How long was she going to do this? How long was she going to keep it inside of her? Sweet candy rots teeth faster after all. It’s only a matter of time until her sweet distraction begins to rot her from the inside out and it is beginning to worry her. 

Sure the unconventional love story worked out well for Eli, but it’s not always the same way. Who knows? Maybe it’s written in prophecy that she’s meant to pay for her cheating father’s doings. That’s what they say right? The first daughters might always inherit their father’s karma—in that alone, there already is so much to unpack. 

“Kanina ka pa tahimik, akala ko ba magsusulat ka rin ngayon?” buntong hininga ni Ally sa tabi niya. 

They were seated in the corner of Jas’ cafe just a few streets away from their apartment, as Ally mentioned, supposedly to write, but Jas has only been sitting there for hours already while Ally typed away on her laptop, writing what seemed to be her next best selling book. Jas, on the other hand, sat next to her with her notebook, still waiting for ink. 

Everything with Leon and Eli went by quickly and it’s not that different for her and Tobi, except for the fact that they have been pining for each other for years already—emotionally constipated for that matter. And it’s not like that for her and the other Park. 

Tobi did not do relationships. He made that clear from the get go and she was painfully aware of that. Love really does hit you when it hits you, no? She had no chance of avoiding it. Not when he just casually invites her to formal dinners with his family. Not when Bianca is rooting for them. Not when even his mom openly bothers him about wanting to meet her. Not when he kisses her like it means something, because she knows damn well that it doesn't mean anything at all. 

“Ha?”

“Hatdog, Jacynthe,” Ally replied sarcastically. “Alam ko ‘yang ganyang mukha mo. Ano ‘yan? Ginugulo ka nanaman ba ng tatay mo?”

Jas shrugged. Even though her dad has in fact been trying to get in touch again, somehow, having Tobi to distract her every time her dad messaged, it made her feel less miserable about it. Her dad was the least of her worries right now. 

“I have tickets sa laro sa Araneta bukas, sama ka?”

Althea Kim looked at her curiously, as if trying to decode what her actions meant. Jas was an open book after all. She moves so animatedly, it’s almost always a dead giveaway on how she was feeling. But this time, she just looked like she was just trying to get her mind off things. Ally knew Jas the longest among everyone in the house, they’ve been friends since highschool after all—it was safe to say Jas has never looked more glum than ever. The fact that she couldn’t write anything at all, was very telling that she hasn’t been feeling her best.

“Ang tagal mo nang hindi nanonood ng laro,” Ally tried life up the energy, trying not to feed her sullen mood. 

“Busy lang,” Jas replied. 

Well she has been. For the past few months, she has been working with Tobi, Amir and Kyle for their upcoming album after Leon’s wedding. On top of all of that, the past few weeks before Tobi and Leon were asked to go to Cebu,  they have been secretly cooking up an EP as their wedding gift for Eli and Leon. That and… well… Tobi has been keeping her occupied on the days that they were not working. Hindi naman na sikreto yon sa lahat at this point. Everyone just deals with it dahil hindi naman sila nakakaabala ng ibang tao. Plus, it keeps the both of them away from causing trouble whenever they end up sleeping with someone with a hidden agenda.

Al could not argue with it. She’s seen her work very hard on and off the studio. Other than that, she has also been trying to keep up with her cafe business. She’s a busy woman after all, even before Tobias came along.

“Sumama ka na kasi,” Jas scoffed, playfully hitting her elbow to stop her from typing. “Mabubulok ka na dito kakatype mo d’yan. Baka doon ka na makahanap ng inspiration mo—”

“Ang ingay ingay doon!”

“Ayaw mo no’n?” She laughed. “Admist of the noise, the world paused and there was peace in his eyes.” Althea could not help but laugh at the way she dramatically delivered it like a Shakespearean play. It was classic Jacynthe to burst out with poetic lines and deliver them in the most ridiculous ways. It’s what made her such an efficient song writer. She’s just full of Shakespearean punchlines that a normal person would not have hanging around her head on a random Tuesday. 

Which brings her back to the thought of why she hasn’t written anything for the past hours. 

Truth is, she had words in her head already. In her mind, is already a staff, filled with intricate and endearing melodies and harmonies, along with words that quite described what she felt. She just didn’t have the guts to write it down, because it would mean that she has, indeed, fallen in love with Tobias. 

Someone who’s she’s only supposed to have sex with and not fall in love with. 

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆.✧˚ continue here ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆.✧˚

[cynthiafalvey]

BIOGRAPHY | MUSINGS

character name: cynthia ruth falvey

nickname(s): cynthie, cynth, thia, princess

age & dob: june 9th, 1990 (33)

gender identity & pronouns: female, she/her/hers

sexual orientation & relationship status: bisexual, single

residential area: an apartment downtown

occupation: producer for local colorado commercial video production company

place of birth: cardiff, wales

length of time in providence peak: consistently from 2000-2008, visiting in between, and permanently since july of 2023

faceclaim: lucy hale

FAMILY.

mother: erica falvey (53)

father: rodney falvey (59)

siblings: elijah falvey (41), nikolas falvey (39), reginald 'reggie' falvey (35)

niece: rhiannon falvey (7 months old)

TL;DR.

youngest (and only daughter) of the falvey family, born in cardiff, wales and moving to providence peak at the age of ten. youngest sibling to her very core, and an expert of teetering on the edge of demanding attention when not easily given and knowing just how and when to slip under the radar. moved to new york after high school to attend university, eventually settling into film & television studies. after finishing her masters degree, a personal assistant role to the executive producer of a reality dating show (what the heart wants) turned into the start of her own producing career. worked on several seasons of the show, but the behind the scenes dishonesty and manipulation eventually got to her. after saying no to her boyfriend's proposal and on the verge of a mental breakdown, cynthia quit her job and moved back to providence peak seven months ago under the pretense of it being a temporary stay for her niece's birth, and is currently working a less soul-crushing producer job at a local colorado production company.

BIO.

Cynthia had just turned nine years old by the time she accepted the fact that she would not be getting another sibling to take over the role as youngest in the Falvey family. It was one year more than the gap between her and her eldest brother, and the surpassing of it successfully sealed her fate in the spot she now knows she was always meant to uphold.

Did it stop her from thinking that the sit down conversation her parents had gathered them for shortly before her tenth birthday had been a surprise pregnancy announcement anyways? Unfortunately, it had not, and the actual reasoning for the common room meeting had left very much to be desired, especially when Cynthia’s usual tactic in getting what she wanted (being cute) did not seem to sway her parents on their decision to move them all to Colorado.

Her go to plan B (kicking and screaming like a bat out of hell the whole way until they changed their mind) and C (turning around and boarding a flight back to Wales immediately upon landing) both proved to be busts, but Erika and Rodney weren’t without some tricks of their own.

Who would’ve guessed that all it would take for Cynthia to change her tune was a little promise that she could get her ears pierced once they were settled?

(Or that that had been her longcon all along?)

Ears freshly pierced, there was nothing her first year in the American school system could throw at her that she couldn’t handle. Socially and academically, she excelled and continued to do so all throughout her junior and high school years.

The worst part about being the youngest was by far that unshakeable feeling of being left behind. They’d always been close, but it was watching each of her brothers leave the nest for their respective endeavors, and the combination of losing Eli and Reggie both in the same year to theirs, that really had Cynthia digging her heels in. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, stop them from achieving whatever it was they were searching for away from home, and would be proud of them all the same, no matter what it was, but she’d be damned if they all drifted apart on her watch.

Her own time to fly came at the age of eighteen with an acceptance to NYU. Though tempted to head to the opposite coast of LA to be closer to Elijah, hearing the way he talked of the big city life there, she couldn’t help but want one of her own after practically conquering Providence Peak.

New York was decidedly not Colorado, but Cynthia fell in love with it all the same. There was always something going on, always something to see or do, and the city quickly became her playground while she figured out just what, exactly, she was accumulating all that student debt for.

She eventually settled on Film & Television studies, which no one in her family had to point out wasn’t the practical choice (then again, what was anything any of them did considered practical?), but after shopping a few different majors, it was the first to feel right. Cynthia learned that she thrived in the behind the scenes of tv and filmmaking, several of the projects she worked on over the course of the four years going on to win local festivals and awards, and even a chance to study abroad in London for a semester before her junior year.

It was a no brainer to continue her studies all the way through to her Masters, graduating finally in 2015. Various odd jobs and several internships were held over this course of time, but her big break came in the form of working as the personal assistant to the executive producer of a reality dating show, What the Heart Wants. It wasn’t exactly what she envisioned herself doing in the long term, but an in was an in, and she was going to give it (and her boss, Isabelle Robbins) her all.

And her all she gave, and then some. For years and several seasons of the show, she made sure she was at the top of her game, Isabelle’s right hand man, but still Cynthia felt like she wasn’t any closer to getting a shot at any kind of producer spot. It wasn’t until an off hand comment she made about a lie to feed one of the contestants was put into action and garnered a viral reaction that opened Isabelle’s eyes to just what her assistant might be capable of beyond fetching her coffee.

Her first official producer role for What the Heart Wants was at the age of twenty seven for the show’s fifteenth season, and Cynthia began to build herself a reputation for knowing exactly what to say and do to get the most drama. She couldn’t say that she didn’t like the attention, didn’t like the praise from her boss, or scrolling on Twitter after an episode would air and see the reaction gifs and memes created from the episodes, and she definitely couldn’t say that she didn’t like the travel perks, getting to visit different beautiful locations with each new season, even eventually meeting her long term boyfriend, Jonas, while abroad.

What nobody prepared her for was how much the constant drama would eat at her over the years. By her fifth year and tenth season (including spin-offs), Cynthia was losing her edge, no longer able to stomach the word-twisting and blatant lies, a development that Isabelle was not pleased with, and was constantly breathing down her neck to fix. And yet, her breaking point was when her boyfriend of several years got down on one knee and proposed: what should have been the happiest day of Cynthia’s life, only for her to look the man that she claimed to love all this time in the eye and answer with a resounding no.

The worst part was that she couldn’t even give a reason. She didn’t have one. There had just not been one part of her that’d wanted to say yes, a part of her that’d felt anything at all, really…and that was what scared her the most.

Needing a change and with the excuse of being there for her niece’s birth, Cynthia quit her job and flew back to Providence under the pretense of it being a temporary visit (just until the ink on her new lease had dried). She loved her family and had never been known to shy away from being the topic of discussion amongst them, but the thought of having to explain to them what had happened both with work and with Jonas was too much when she didn’t even know what to say.

For the time being, she applied for and accepted a producer position at a local Colorado commercial video production company, which has somehow already felt more fulfilling in eight months than the several years she spent in reality TV.

Though still battling the shame that came with trying and failing and trying to decide just what comes next, she can’t say she’s not happy to have her family all back in one place again.

HEADCANNONS.

has never known the correct words to any song ever, and this does not stop her from singing along to them anyways (very reminiscent of this tiktok)

could manage to kill even a plastic plant, do not ask her to water yours!!!

peak of her career was when chrissy teigen replied to one of her tweets and claimed to be a big fan of the show (and then when she met her at the 2022 bravocon)

considers her first time at the cheesecake factory a formative experience

self-appointed herself in charge of the family christmas card, and takes the role very seriously. in similar vein, she's also the queen of wrapping presents misleadingly to look like something else entirely

if at a coffee shop/cafe and a chocolate chip cookie is available, she will be participating in one, and thinks it is a perfectly acceptable breakfast, argue with the wall!!!

always has her nails painted, feels naked without at least a simple nude color

her anxiety manifests itself in the form of heartburn, so she eats tums like they're candy

can, but should not for the guaranteed safety of herself and others, drive

is incapable of walking past a claw machine without trying her hand at it (so you could imagine how dangerous it was once they started slapping credit card readers on them things)

what the heart wants actually won an emmy for it's seventeenth season; the statue use to reside on the mantel above her fireplace, but is now currently used as a jewelry stand

thinks she could have definitely held out longer and swindled a puppy out of her parents in exchange for accepting their move to colorado

has considered homicide over nyt connections (colors with their first letters changed??? get fucked), but still completes it, the wordle and the mini crossword every day and sends her scores to the family gc, even if no one else is playing

isn't picky with food and is pretty open minded when it comes to trying new cuisines...which is good because she's not the best cook (not awful but nothing fancy), and orders takeout several nights a week, so she likes that she has options

though finding her place running things behind the scenes, in high school she made herself nice and visible, participating in a slew of extracurricular, such as cheerleading, debate, dance and theater (her role as juliet her sophomore year of high school was truly inspired)

has a small scar on the underside of her chin from when she was eleven and her brothers had picked her up thinking it'd be funny to swing her into the pool, but accidentally dropped her too early and she smacked the edge instead (first trip to providence peak memorial, ayoooo)

currently on a social media cleanse, going as far as removing instagram from her phone entirely (does it stop her from sporadically redownloading it just to make sure she's not missing anything? no)

loves, loves, loves a bubble bath, and spends an excessively unnecessary amount of time in the shower

has a twelve step skincare routine

still has not told anyone in her family the truth behind her breakup and sudden move/job change

CURRENT CONNECTIONS.

younger (and only) sister of @elifalvey & @reggiefalvey

for all intents and purposes @draslihanxfahri-bailey's sister in law

friends who may or may not have kissed last november and are v much not talking about it @fletcher-braley

rite of passage childhood crush on her older brother's best friend @rcmandaniels

keeping the dmv workers who signed off on their licenses up at night, probs/surrogate sister @phoebeyates

friends who smash (broken tvs) @cjwelford

childhood turned awkward friends who drifted apart @theaxharris

blew off some low key noncommittal steam together in new york @dylan-westwick

fast friends who brunch @sarayoon

met and befriended @jacobklee while in new york

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

to be posted: ex-boyfriend, maybe a past contestant/host from the show she worked on (think the bachelor)!

potentially a roommate!

a best friend or two, girl squad (even old besties that drifted?)

childhood/high school/family friends

high school romances/flings

'used to hook up when home for the holidays but would stop when one (or both) of us got in a serious relationship and now neither of us are seeing anybody'

anyone she'd met while living in new york (on and off 2007-2023) or traveling (studied abroad in london in 2010, and filmed in different locations around the world from 2015-2023)

flirtationship/fwbs/one night stands/tinder dates

friends who’ve had a falling out/frenemies/enemies

connects through her brothers

neighbors

owners of businesses her production company's produced commercials for

drinking buddies

gym buddies

[genevievemd]

Snowy Thoughts

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Genevieve McClure), feat. Ellie McClure Word Count: 1049 Rating: G Category: fluff, domestic bliss Trope(s):

Summary: Gen watches Ethan play in the snow with their niece.

Warnings: none

A/N: One last entry for @choicesficwriterscreations​ holiday event. Takes place during the January update or ‘tis the damn season. 

They’d woken up to a fresh blanket of snow, crisp and white. It made her giddy, like a child. Or her niece, who had woken up in screams of excitement. 

Ethan and Gen had decided to spend the weekend in her hometown with her family. They’d missed Christmas a few weeks back, so they’d picked a random weekend in January to rectify the situation. 

It always melts her heart to see how much her family has grown to love Ethan. Especially her niece, Ellie. When Ellie met him years ago, she had run up to Ethan and gave him a hug. All smiles and asking if he would marry Auntie G one day. At the time, Gen had been mortified, as her and Ethan had only been dating – officially – for two months, but Ethan played along, giving her niece the only appropriate answer.

Someday, Ellie.

Back then, no one thought anything of it, but nine months later he proposed and now two years later they were married. 

And Ethan had graduated from Etan to Uncle Ethan, quickly becoming Ellie’s favorite person in the world. Which meant whenever the Ramsey’s go up to Maine for a visit, they stay with Gen’s brother and sister-in-law. 

“Auntie G!?” The six year old runs into the living room, already dressed for the snow. “Is Uncle Ethan awake?” 

“He’s in the kitchen, making us coffee.” Gen laughs, Ellie not bothering to hear the rest of the sentence and running into the other room. She follows close behind, never one to miss the sweet interactions between Ellie and Ethan. 

“Uncle Ethan, will you come play in the snow with me?” She beams up at him, with a pleading lip. 

Not unlike the one Gen uses when she wants something from her husband. 

“Did your aunt teach you that face?” Ethan chuckles, kneeling down to be at Ellie’s level.

“No. Will you? Please!?” 

“Sure. How about we have everyone come out and play?” 

“Okay.” She runs away, her feet stomping up the stairs. “Mom!”

Twenty minutes later and the whole family is outside: Gen, Ethan, Henry, Clara, Eli and Ellie. Making snow angles and snow forts. 

Gen walks over to her husband, arms coming around his waist. ”Thank you for indulging her. You’re a good uncle.” 

“I don’t mind, honestly.” Ethan smiles, wrapping his own arms around her. “I see it as practice for when we have our own children. Though, hopefully, they don’t learn to make that same face. I’m screwed if you and our children have it.” 

“You’ll be a great dad.” She leans up on her tiptoes to kiss him, the snow crunching under her boots, but their lips barely touch before they’re interrupted. 

“No kissing! Daddy said so.” Ellie throws a snowball from beside Henry, erupting into a fit of giggles. “Mommy and Daddy and Eli are going inside, but can we stay outside? We can make a snowman!” 

She prances over to them, her tiny gloved hand pulling one of Ethan’s off of Gen’s waist. “Will you help?” 

“Of course, Ellie.” Ethan kisses Gen’s cheek before letting Ellie pull him away. 

She can’t help the smile that spreads, her heart so full at the sight of Ethan and their niece. 

They’d decided a few months prior, to wait a little longer on having kids of their own. They wanted them together, but Gen wasn’t ready to give up what they currently have by bringing a baby into it. She enjoyed it just being the two of them, a semi-newly married couple. 

If she was honest, the thought of losing that, their little bubble of just Ethan and Genevieve, made her anxious. The unknowns of what their relationship would turn into after having a child terrified her. 

But she also knew that Ethan was ready. He wanted kids as soon as possible, especially after they learned Tobias and his fiancée were expecting last year and their baby being born just a few days ago. He wanted to begin the next phase of their life, and it broke her heart a little to make him wait. 

Though, Ethan was quick to remind her that while he was ready, there was no real pressure on her and he’d happily and patiently wait until she was too. 

Gen looks back at her husband and niece, rolling a second ball of now. The six year old chatting away and Ethan nodding his head. 

He really will make an amazing father. So caring and patient, happy to build a snowman or play pirates and princess. Their future kids will be so lucky to have him as their dad. 

“Auntie G, come help.” Ellie calls her over, big smile on her small face. “We need to put his face on.” 

“Of course, Nuggs.” She joins them in the middle of the backyard. “He looks great already.” 

“Thank you. Uncle Ethan put on his head cause I’m too short and he’s very tall.”

“He is.” She winks at him, to which he shakes his head. “What are you going to use for his eyes and smile?” 

“Um.. Oh, I know. Marbles from my collection. I’ll be back.” Before either adult can say anything, Ellie runs inside, leaving them alone in the backyard. 

“What had you so far away just now? I kept looking over at you and you seemed a million miles away.” Ethan is quick to take her into his arms once they’re alone. Concern etched all over his face. 

“I was just thinking.” Gen drapes her arms around his neck, shuffling as close as she can with their bulking winter coats. 

“Oh?” 

“Nothing bad, I promise.” She nuzzles her nose against his, that warm feeling she always gets when she’s in his arms flooding her veins. 

It’s the feeling of safety, and home, Gen has come to learn in the years she’s been with Ethan. Something she’s never had with anyone else. Chaos and mayhem could be erupting around them, but if she was in his embrace, none of it mattered. 

Perhaps, that was proof that no matter what they’d always be okay. That even when they have a child, at the end of the day, they’d still be them. Two people madly in love. 

And maybe, with that knowledge, she was closer to being ready than she thought.

A/N: And guess who’s born August next year? Lizzie. 

Hope you all had a new year! 

[sulphuricgrin]

4, 7, 9, 14 for your oc(s) of choice! from the-elder-polls

Oh, hello! <3 Damn, I'm being made to think lol

4. What/Who caused the Great Collapse? Well, Elikar can barely remember where he was when that happened in 122, somewhere in the Dominion territories as a soldier, but he generally agrees with the idea that it was a nature disaster. He hardly thinks the College was at fault for it.

7. Regret journey to Skyrim? When Elikar and Lilliandra were caught at the border, they weren't attempting to go to Skyrim. Just wrong place, wrong time. Elikar is a ex-Thalmor soldier, which meant the Dominion wanted his head. And Lilliandra had racked up a reputation and was recovering from a severe injury. Long story short- its a mixed bag of feelings. Elikar hates the dragons and Meridia decides for him that he's perfect to be her champion. Lili hates having another prophecy to deal with, hated fighting dragons, but loves the extra power of being Dragonborn. The siblings are losing their minds for different reasons.

9. Snow/sky whales? Neither think them real, consider it just old folktales/mythology. Though Lili is less certain in her stance

14. Mentor/guidance? (Gonna split this for easier reading)

Elikar is a odd-one out in the family, focused more in being a warrior, so he was trained by a templar Khajiit named Halin-do, hired by their House, for much of his adolescence until 18. Then he joined the Dominion army.

Lilliandra is a quick study, often studying ahead of what her family tutors were training her. Besides that, their mother was her biggest mentor. Psylia taught her, drilled into her, any and all magic, stealth, manipulation, anything that the Dominion/Divine Prosecution doesn't want a proper Altmer noble to know. She was taught that the ends always justify the means.

Together, Eli and Lili were taught by their maternal grandfather for 2 years. Liilandre is a Psjiic and taught them mysticism. They learned during those lessons that Elikar is a natural with teleportation magic.

thanks for asking!!

[edhelsen]

Eli Clark will forget you forever.

Damn did he turn me upside-down, a man able to see the future yet still blinded in naivity, his tale of tragedy inevitably ends as he has already grieved his own existence and moved on from himself. Eventually the Seer will return, be it Eli Clark or a newborn with another name.

Through it all Brooke survives, her soul not reincarnated yet... a part of me wonders if now it is Eli's soul that can be seen through her eyes. Her being alive is the reason for her square-shaped aureole.

Condemned and betrayed by those he believes in, he still keeps his faith wholeheartedly as he faces the world alone, as he loses his mind, his home, his life... Loss marked in every single iteration of "Eli Clark".

...Happy Birthday, Eli 🦉

[daughter-of-melpomene]

It's been so so long since I watched Criminal Minds but I'm so curious to know what was Eli Logan doing in Season 2, Episode 15! It's the episode where the serial killer kidnaps Reid, tortures, and is drugging him over the course of two days because I know I was so STRESSED during that episode!!

Oooooh I have been waiting for someone to ask about this, thank you so much Mimi!!

⤷ This whole entire episode is just… the actual worst thing for Eli, I feel like we have to start there.

⤷ He’s with the rest of the team when they realize Hankel is the unsub rather than with Spencer and JJ, and knowing that Reid is in such a dangerous situation pretty damn well terrifies him.

⤷ He hasn’t really admitted to himself that he has romantic feelings for Spencer at this point, mainly because a big part of him still feels like he doesn’t deserve good things and therefore doesn’t deserve someone as good as Spencer, but the thought of anyone he cares about going to the residence of a dangerous killer is enough reason to freak out, so he basically lies to himself by telling himself that that’s the only reason he’s freaking out.

⤷ But when they get to the farm to find only JJ, he damn near loses it right there, and almost immediately runs out to check around the property to try and find Spencer (but not before fussing over JJ for a minute, because she’s still hurt and she’s still his family).

⤷ When Morgan finds the drag marks in the field, Eli really flips his shit, because this means that Spencer’s actually been taken somewhere where they might not be able to find him. He starts frantically pacing and swearing under his breath, and Morgan eventually has to grab his arms and reassure him to calm him down. It doesn’t really work, because Spencer has still been fucking kidnapped by a fucking murderer, but Eli calms down enough to be of some use again.

⤷ He almost throws up when they find Hankel’s father’s body in the basement, not really because he’s not used to this kind of thing, but because this entire day has been way too stressful and harrowing for him. He has to run back up the stairs to gag, but nothing comes up, and Garcia runs over to rub his back and comfort him until it passes.

⤷ At some point between finding the journals and the first video feed, Gideon approaches Eli and asks if he wants to head back, since it’s pretty clear he’s having a hard time with all of this, and Eli kind of freaks out (“You think I’m gonna leave when Reid’s in this kinda danger? Are you nuts??”). Gideon says fine, but sends him back into the house to stay with Garcia since he’s not going to be much use if he keeps getting overwhelmed.

⤷ Which, unfortunately, means he’s sitting right there when the video feed goes live.

⤷ And seeing Spencer there, cuffed and dirty and clearly in a lot of pain, nearly does him in; he has to fully leave the house and go outside for a few minutes just to keep from having a full-on panic attack.

⤷ (Because of this, he misses Gideon talking to Spencer through the camera, and by the time he comes back he doesn’t even know it’s possible to talk through the camera so that Spencer can hear it.)

⤷ He really shouldn’t have gone back inside, though, because then the team has to watch Spencer get beaten and suffocated, and by that point he has to run back outside again, this time to actually throw up and have a real panic attack that lasts for several minutes and leaves him exhausted.

⤷ At some point Emily comes out to check on him, coming to sit beside him on the ground, and he basically just leans against her while she tells him that Hankel revived Reid and that he is strong enough to survive this. It’s actually kind of a sweet moment for their friendship, in the midst of all the pain and chaos.

⤷ Finally, when Spencer picks Hotch to die and purposely misquotes the Bible verse to give them a clue, Eli is actually the one that picks up on it; his grandmother was very religious and used to read the Bible to him when he was a kid, so he knows that verse, and he definitely knows Spencer’s too smart to get it wrong, so he just kind of bursts out with a, “That’s not right. That’s not right, he must’ve done that on purpose.”

⤷ And when they finally figure out where Spencer’s being held? Eli is the first one running away from the farm to the cars.

⤷ He nearly breaks down again when they storm the shed and nobody’s there, but Morgan pretty quickly reminds him that there’s still a whole cemetery to search, and again he’s the first one out the door, flashlight up and searching like a bloodhound that’s caught a scent.

⤷ When he first hears the gunshot from Reid shooting Hankel, this man runs faster than he has ever run in his life, and when they find Spencer standing in the grave, it’s all he can do not to break down sobbing. ⤷ He still gets a little teary-eyed, though, and when Spencer’s done hugging Hotch, Eli pretty much yanks him away and into another hug, asking him in a choked voice to please never scare him like that again.

⤷ And that, right then, is when Eli finally admits to himself that he loves Spencer Reid. Because if nothing else was going to make him admit it, then the man he loves getting kidnapped and almost killed will definitely do it.

(Tagging the Criminal Minds girlies: @come-along-pond, @stanshollaand, @luucypevensie.)

[ Send me an episode/chapter/scene/ect. and I'll tell you what my OC was doing during it ]

[jerzwriter]

Sunday Six - October 30, 2022

Within the next 24 hours, you'll have an Ethan/Kaycee AU Smut, a Tobias/Casey Roleplay Smut, and a cute little E/Z Halloween ficlet.

After that, I have to focus my ADHD self and work on my Tobias/Casey HC if I want my little pixelated babies' wedding done by November 12th.

I've also started my Eli/Zoe (WTD) headcanon, and I'll be sharing that soon.

If I make enough progress on my T/C HC this week, I want to spend WIP Wipeout Weekend wrapping up some E/C minis that were left hanging and maybe do a little on Vegas which has been giving me such agita.

Here are three snippets from the fics coming up next.

It's Witchcraft - Eli / Zoe (WTD)

"I know what you're thinking!" Zoe scowled. "You're thinking I'm such a child!"

Eli attempted to keep a straight face, but the hint of a smirk on his lips was all she needed to confirm she was right.

"Don't profess to know what I'm thinking," he sneered, quickly losing any chance of composure as her delicate fingers tickled at his ribs.

"Hey, what are you...."

"Getting you to lighten up, old man!"

"You know I'm only three years older than you, right?"

"Yeah," she chuckled, "but those are dog years!"

Paging Dr. Carrick - Tobias / Casey (OH) (NSFW 18+)

Casey was doing her best to maintain the upper hand in this situation, but she knew she was slipping. With his hands now wrapped around her waist, gently pushing the soft fabric of her t-shirt aside as his thumbs traced circles on goosebumped hips. Pressed tightly against hers, he trailed small, ticklish kisses down her neck. He could win this. Easily. And he knew it. But Casey was stubborn and she wasn't giving up. Fighting every instinct inside her, Casey slipped out of his arms and returned to scolding him.

Untitled Smut AU - Ethan / Kaycee (OH) (NSFW 18+)

“You know… I don’t know why you put yourself through these headaches, buddy,” Tobias grumbled. “Pandering to the whole flawed social construct of monogamy; pretending you like you’re committed when we both know damn well you’ll bolt the second any scent of commitment is detected. Skip the whole charade, man! Just play the field,” he winked. “It’s great over here.”

“Yeah, and your life is so much better,” Ethan groused. “You seem to forget you’re sitting with me tonight.”

“Yeah! To help you get over this morose giraffe shit you’ve got going on, and I don’t mind doing it. But now… your negative mojo is fucking with my team… and I can’t have that, Ramsey!” He took a swig of his beer when his eyes lit up. “I know what you need!”

“You do?”

“I do! You need to get laid. Tonight.”

Perma All: @a-crepusculo @aishwarya26 @animesuck3r @annfg8 @annoyingmillenialnewbie @bex-la-get @binny1985 @bluebelle08 @bluerosesbloom @cariantha @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @danijimenezv @different4strawberry @differenttyphoonwerewolf @doriopenheart @fayeswiftie @forallthatitsworth @genevievemd @inlocusmads @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @liaromancewriter @lilypills @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @mysticalgalaxysstuff @ofmischiefandmedicine @onikalover @openheartforeverinmyheart @peonierose @peonyblossom @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer166 @rookiemartin @schnitzelbutterfingers @secretaryunpaid @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @toadfrog26 @trappedinfanfiction @uneravine @youlookappropriateriate @zahrachoices @jerzwriter-reblogs-asks @choicesficwriterscreations

[weirdnessxmagnet]

Holy Holy Holy...

There isn't enough coffee in the world for this, but another pot is set to brew none the less.

How long had it been since that first lightning crack of sudden presence? Ozone-laden air straining against unmeasured potential in the shape of a man.

She'd thought Him an angel then; Gabriel, too, left divinity thrumming on the air, some ineffable chord plucked on the strings of reality. Not as strong, but she hadn't learned to observe so carefully yet. Those lessons came later.

You will demand answers...

There is the first piece of her own advice she's ignoring; Do not ask a question unless you want an honest answer.

Maybe that's giving herself too little credit; she does want an honest answer. She could simply do without the implications that come along with receiving it. At least when the answers came from demons (carefully carved to fit where they wanted, but even loyal angels were no strangers to judicious cropping) you could call yourself an occultist and leave it at that.

The book is still sat atop the refrigerator, perched on by the cat, where her husband had placed it out the reach of impulsive arson at her request. She could still climb for it, of course, but it would require more forethought than smashing a teacup against the wall after fumbling tasseography.

It came from you, it was still your choice...

Perhaps that was why it didn't contain all the information? No hope of convincing herself to follow a script? Amusing, but not likely with so many other contributors.

Coffee poured, she opens the cupboard for sugar and finds almost instantly a cat curled around her ankles in search of treats. The ferret is not far behind. She opens the other cupboard to answer that wordless request, watching them race across the tile floor for scattered chicken bites as she sips her coffee-flavoured-syrup, following the thought.

...Protection?

The strings of fate became a noose without the hidden shield of choice. Certainty was a gift to the precognisant. They could not ward the world, let alone other plains. Without the blurred edges of indecision the future would be as easy to read as the book itself.

A lesson learned from gambling her mind as much as money. Understanding which let her use the rules for her own ends.

There is the second piece of her own advice she's ignoring; You cannot hope to change a system without first understanding it.

Again, she does want to understand it, has asked again and again for the answers. Only that achieving that understanding now felt like crossing a line there was no coming back from.

An event horizon indeed...

The question Hell forces you to ask again and again is haunting her; what part of yourself are you most willing to lose? What will you cut away to survive? To move forward? Which principle will you shed when they stand in opposition?

She had vowed there wouldn't be a book, but it was here in her kitchen.

Now this...

Eli laughs from Ray's room, and for a moment the spiral of thought is halted while she wonders at the cause. Some odd behaviour of Ildri's? A video game? Fighting the hulking (perhaps-not-a-)demon with cardboard tubes, free of the fear that had once seen him hide against her?

Miracles on miracles in that room...

Or perhaps not miracles. Hard won achievements paid for with not insignificant blood and pain and determination. Everything they had learned brought together to bring the universe to heel. Not as much as they'd wanted, but it was enough. She would lose her other arm before she'd lose that laughter.

That was the answer, wasn't it?

Some things were worth more than her.

I have a duty.

And then:

"Knowledge alone does no harm. What I possess I place at your disposal, to make use of or to ignore as you desire."

The ability to speak on something did not compel you to speak for it. Knowing the rules did not make you beholden to them. So long as you'd the mind to, it allowed you to break them with purpose. Implications be damned, the knowing was vital. What she chose to do with it would still be hers.

There's some clattering, a click, another peel of laughter. Seconds later a dragon no larger than a cat enters the kitchen, quite literally hovering in the doorway to watch Ember and Brisby skitter after another chicken bite, before moving to rest across her shoulders.

"You'd burn it if I asked, right?"

A single lick of flame is the response.

[theartofruling]

Who: Talia + Cedric (ft Eli’s body) @gvldntrbl

Where: Northland Heights County

He looked in the mirror one more time after first visiting his family. After speaking with Alden who even gave him the idea to ask this person if he could do him a favor. Surprised a hell he agreed. Cedric’s family would compensate him even though he agreed without the need for compensation. Alden had all but cursed him the fuck out about asking to inhabit his body to see Talia, but it was an understandable anger. It was out of line to ask him to cross a line he knew Cedric would cross. 

Cedric’s only complaint was this wasn’t a hybrid body. He moved so damn slow. He also seemed too damn chatty for his own good. But he was being oddly supportive. Advising on the way to smooth down his hair, giving assurances that if Cedric was planning to sleep with his wife, that he consented to it and could slip away to the astral plane for a while. He even went so far as to give Cedric advice on how to get his plumbing working. It was all bizarre and yet he’d endure anything to get back to Talia. 

Going back to his house, he instinctively reached for a key that he didn’t have. Instead, he had to knock and wait to see her. Waiting was like dying all over again. But when everything checked out, because Alden had called ahead for him and set up a meeting for Eli essentially. When he saw her, he shoved his fingers in his pockets, reminding himself that he wasn’t in his own body. Thankfully, the host of said body had given him the gentle warning. “Countess, I’m afraid we’re meeting under false pretenses,” Cedric said in greeting. 

He cleared his throat. “I thought I’d know what to say but I saw you and Destiny’s Child’s Lose My Breath made sense again. It’s not my heart but just the sight of you has it beating like the fucking drum line beat.” It was a line he had said before. Seeing her sent a soundtrack of songs through his mind. He felt more alive just being on this side in her presence. “It’s me, Cedric.” He gestured to the body. “Willing host. He stepped out of his body. He can astral project. Alden set this up so I could see you again.” He was nervous because who would believe this? This was wild to him even. But even a second to touch her. To talk to her again after seeing her grieving on the other side of the veil was torture. “If this was a bad idea, I understand. I’ll leave. I know you’ve been trying to get back to some semblance of life and I don’t want to set you back. I just needed to see you.”

[muiitoloko]

hi,

could you please write part 2 of your eli X daughter!reader / barkley X reader fanfic?<3

it's soooo good, i love your eli fanfics<3

Title: Doll

Summary: You're like a doll now.

Pairing: Eli Michaelson & Daughter! Reader

Warnings: Anger, Pain and Angst.

Author's Notes: Thanks for the request. Gotta admit, tears were flowing as I penned this one. It might just be the saddest story I've ever written.

First, Second and Third part here.

Also read on Ao3

Hours later, Eli sat in the hospital waiting room, his face buried in his hands as tears streamed down his cheeks. Sarah sat next to him, her arm wrapped around his shoulder in a comforting embrace, her own eyes red and swollen from crying. Barkley sat on the other side of Eli, playing with his Spider-Man and Doctor Octopus toys, oblivious to the turmoil that surrounded him.

Eli cried like he had never cried before, the weight of guilt and fear crushing him with each passing moment. He couldn't remember the last time he shed a tear, but now, as he faced the possibility of losing his little girl, his heart broke into a million pieces.

"What if she's not okay?" Eli whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "Why did this have to happen? She's my little scientist, Sarah. She's supposed to change the world."

Sarah squeezed Eli's shoulder gently, her own voice trembling with emotion as she tried to offer words of comfort. "We don't know what's going to happen, Eli," she murmured, her heart aching at the sight of her husband's pain. "But we have to stay strong for her. She needs us now more than ever."

But Eli shook his head, unable to shake the feeling of dread that consumed him from within. "I should have protected her," he whispered, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper. "I should have been there for her. But instead, I let her down."

Sarah's heart broke at the sight of her husband's anguish, her own tears mingling with his as she struggled to find the right words to ease his pain. "We're all here for her, Eli," she reassured him, her voice trembling with emotion. "And we're not going to give up hope. She's a fighter, just like her dad."

But Eli couldn't shake the feeling that he had made a terrible mistake by suggesting they attend the comic convention instead of having a traditional birthday party for the twins at home. His decision had led to this nightmare scenario, and now his daughter lay injured, fighting for her life.

"Why did I ever agree to this?" He muttered to himself, his voice thick with anguish. "I should have known better. We should have been safe at home, celebrating with cake and balloons, not trapped in this nightmare."

Sarah, sensing her husband's anguish, reached out to comfort him, her own eyes brimming with tears. She rubbed his back gently, offering words of solace in the midst of their shared pain. "It's not your fault, Eli," she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion. "We all thought it would be a fun outing for the kids. None of us could have predicted..."

But Eli cut her off, his frustration boiling over as he turned to face her. "No, Sarah," he snapped, his baritone voice tinged with bitterness. "I should have put my foot down and insisted on a safer option. But no, I had to be a cheapskate, thinking I could save a few bucks by taking them to that damned convention. But that's your fault too!"

Sarah recoiled slightly, stung by his words, but she knew he was hurting and lashing out in his grief. She swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to defend herself, but Eli's accusatory gaze bore into her, demanding an explanation.

"Why weren't you with her, Sarah?" Eli's voice cracked with emotion as he spoke, his hooked nose wrinkling in frustration. "Why did you leave her alone, surrounded by strangers? She needed you, and you weren't there."

Sarah's heart sank as she struggled to respond, her mind racing with guilt and regret. "I...I went to buy Barkley a toy," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't think...I didn't know..."

But Eli's anger flared, his eyes burning with accusation as he cut her off. "A toy?!" he exclaimed, his voice rising with disbelief. "You left our children alone for a damn toy?! What were you thinking, Sarah?!"

Tears welled up in Sarah's eyes as she tried to defend herself, her hands trembling with guilt. "I thought they would be safe," she choked out, her voice breaking with emotion. "I never imagined..."

But Eli wasn't listening, his attention turning to Barkley, who sat nearby playing with his toys, seemingly indifferent to the chaos around him. Rage surged through Eli's veins as he watched his son play, his mind filled with resentment and anger.

"And you," Eli growled, his voice dripping with contempt as he glared at Barkley. "You sit there playing with your toys, stained with your sister's blood, and you don't even care."

Sarah rushed to Barkley's defense, her own frustration mounting as she tried to shield her son from Eli's wrath. "He's in shock, Eli," she pleaded, her voice trembling with emotion. "People react differently in traumatic situations. He's just a child."

Eli's frustration and guilt reached a breaking point as he grappled with the magnitude of the situation. Gripping his hair tightly, he fought back the urge to scream, feeling utterly powerless in the face of his daughter's suffering. Tears streamed down his face unchecked as he silently pleaded for her to be okay.

Sarah, equally distraught, wrapped her arms around Eli, trying to offer whatever solace she could amidst their shared anguish. The hours dragged by slowly, each moment feeling like an eternity as they waited for news of their daughter's condition.

Restlessness gnawed at Eli's nerves, his mind tortured by thoughts of what might be happening to his precious girl. Finally, a doctor approached them, and Eli and Sarah rose from their seats, their hearts pounding with dread.

"Please, tell us," Eli implored, his voice hoarse with emotion. "How is she? Is she going to be okay?"

The doctor hesitated, a heavy sigh escaping his lips before he spoke. "Your daughter, [Your Name] Michaelson, will survive," he began, but his words hung in the air like a heavy weight.

Eli's heart sank, his chest tightening with fear as he braced himself for the worst. "Please, doctor," he urged, his voice trembling with desperation. "Just tell us."

The doctor sighed again, his expression grave as he delivered the devastating news. "I'm afraid the impact of the statue has caused significant damage," he explained, his words like a knife to Eli's heart. "Your daughter's spinal cord has been crushed. She's quadriplegic."

Time seemed to stand still as Eli processed the doctor's words, his mind reeling with disbelief and despair. Quadriplegic. The word echoed in his mind like a haunting refrain, filling him with a profound sense of sorrow and helplessness.

"No..." Eli whispered, his voice barely a whisper as he struggled to comprehend the magnitude of what had happened. "No, it can't be..."

Eli felt his world shatter into a million pieces. Quadriplegic. The term reverberated in his mind, each syllable like a dagger plunging into his heart. He couldn't bear to imagine what life would be like for his beloved daughter, confined to a wheelchair and robbed of the simple joys of childhood.

His legs gave out beneath him, and he sank to the floor, his body wracked with sobs as he struggled to process the devastating news. Sarah, beside him, clutched a hand to her mouth, tears streaming down her face as she grappled with her own anguish. How could this be happening? Their daughter, only eight years old, didn't deserve this cruel fate.

"Eight years," Eli choked out, his voice barely above a whisper, "she's just eight years old..."

The room spun around him, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to consume him whole. His mind raced with a torrent of questions, each more agonizing than the last. How would she live from now on, unable to play, run, or even hug her parents with the same spontaneity and freedom as before? How would they adapt to this new reality, navigating a world that suddenly seemed so daunting and unforgiving?

Sarah's hand found his, her touch a bittersweet anchor in the midst of their shared despair. "We'll figure it out," she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion. "We'll do whatever it takes to help her, Eli. She's still our daughter, no matter what."

But Eli couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of grief that threatened to suffocate him. His mind replayed memories of his daughter's laughter, her infectious smile, and the sparkle in her eyes as she chased after her dreams. Now, those dreams lay shattered at their feet, a cruel reminder of the fragility of life and the harsh realities they were now forced to confront.

As Eli struggled to regain his composure, a fierce determination ignited within him. He couldn't change what had happened, but he could be there for his daughter in ways he never imagined possible. No matter what challenges lay ahead, he would stand by her side, a pillar of strength and unwavering support in the face of adversity.

With Sarah's steady presence beside him, Eli drew a shaky breath and rose to his feet, his heart heavy but resolute. They had a long journey ahead of them, filled with obstacles and uncertainty, but one thing remained certain: their love for their daughter would never falter, even in the darkest of times. Together, they would face the future, one step at a time, holding onto hope and the promise of a better tomorrow.

Barkley, sensing the gravity of the situation, looked up at his parents with wide eyes, his curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar term. "What's quadriplegic?" He asked, his voice small and uncertain amidst the somber atmosphere. But neither Eli nor Sarah had the emotional capacity to respond, their attention consumed by their own tumultuous thoughts.

Ignoring Barkley's question, Eli turned to the doctor, his voice strained with urgency. "Can we see her now?" he asked, his words rushed and desperate. "Please, we need to be with her."

The doctor nodded solemnly, his expression sympathetic as he led them down the sterile hospital corridor to your room. You lay sleeping, your small form tucked beneath crisp white sheets, a myriad of wires and monitors surrounding you like a protective cocoon.

Eli wasted no time in rushing to your bedside, his heart pounding with fear and longing as he took in the sight of you lying there, so small and vulnerable. Tears welled up in his eyes as he reached out to gently brush a lock of hair from your forehead, his touch light and tender.

Meanwhile, Sarah took Barkley's hand, leading him into the room with a gentle but firm grip. Barkley's eyes darted around the room, taking in the unfamiliar sights and sounds with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

"Is she...is she dead?" Barkley whispered, his voice barely above a whisper as he looked up at Sarah with wide, fearful eyes. But Sarah shook her head, her heart breaking at the thought of her son grappling with such a terrifying notion.

"No, Barkley," she murmured, her voice soft but firm. "She's alive, but she's hurt. She needs all the attention and love we can give her right now."

A pang of disappointment flickered across Barkley's face, his resentment bubbling to the surface once more. Even unconscious, you still continued to steal attention for yourself, stealing Mom and Dad's attention for yourself, and this made Barkley even more angry and jealous.

As the morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the hospital room, you slowly began to stir from your slumber. Blinking groggily, you glanced around the room, confusion clouding your thoughts as you tried to make sense of your surroundings.

Your gaze settled on the figure of your father, Eli, asleep in a chair next to your bed, his head resting on his arms. Relief flooded through you at the sight of him, his presence offering a sense of comfort amidst the unfamiliarity of the hospital room.

"Daddy?" you called out, your voice small and raspy as you tried to rouse him from his sleep. Your mouth felt dry, and a dull ache pulsed through your body, a reminder of the ordeal you had endured.

Eli stirred, his eyelids fluttering open as he slowly lifted his head from his arms, blinking blearily as he registered your voice. "Sweetheart?" he murmured, his voice hoarse with sleep as he rubbed his eyes and sat up straighter in the chair.

As your father's gaze met yours, you couldn't help but feel a surge of fear welling up inside you. Something was wrong, you could sense it in the way your body felt heavy and unresponsive beneath the sheets.

You tried to sit up, but panic gripped you as you realized that you couldn't move your arms or legs. Frantically, you struggled against the invisible barrier holding you down, tears streaming down your face as fear and confusion washed over you in waves.

"Daddy, I can't move," you cried out, your voice trembling with fear as you looked to Eli for help. "What's happening to me? Why can't I move?"

Eli's heart shattered at the sound of your distressed voice, his own eyes filling with tears as he reached out to gently stroke your cheek. "Shh, sweetheart, it's okay," he murmured, his voice cracking with emotion. "You're going to be okay. Daddy's here."

But his words offered little comfort as you grappled with the terrifying reality of your situation. The realization that you were unable to move, trapped in your own body, sent waves of panic coursing through you, leaving you gasping for air as tears streamed down your cheeks.

Eli's heart pounded in his chest as he struggled to find the courage to tell you the truth. The word "quadriplegic" weighed heavily on his mind, a grim reminder of the irreversible damage that had been done to your body. He knew he couldn't keep it from you any longer, but the thought of seeing the devastation in your eyes filled him with dread.

"Sweetheart," Eli began, his voice trembling with emotion as he reached out to gently cup your face in his hands. "There's something I need to tell you, and it's...it's not going to be easy to hear."

Your eyes widened in fear as you sensed the gravity in your father's tone. "What is it, Daddy?" you whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse murmur, your heart pounding in your chest.

Eli took a deep breath, steeling himself for the difficult conversation that lay ahead. "You were injured in the accident," he explained, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. "And...and the doctors say that...that you're quadriplegic."

The words hung in the air like a heavy weight, suffocating you with their crushing reality. Quadriplegic. The term echoed in your mind like a cruel refrain, filling you with a sense of despair and hopelessness. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to process the magnitude of what had happened.

"I can't move," you choked out, your voice trembling with fear and disbelief. "I can't feel anything, Daddy. What's going to happen to me?"

Eli's heart shattered at the sound of your anguish, his own eyes filling with tears as he struggled to find the right words to comfort you. "I don't know, sweetheart," he admitted, his voice choked with emotion. "But we're going to get through this together, I promise."

But your distress only seemed to escalate, your cries growing louder as you called out for your mother. Panic surged through Eli's veins as he tried to calm you down, his own sense of helplessness overwhelming him.

"Mom will be here soon, sweetheart," Eli reassured you, his voice strained with desperation as he tried to soothe your fears. "She's just...she's just taking Barkley home to rest. But she'll be here soon, I promise."

But you continued to cry out for your mother, your voice filled with fear and desperation as the machines attached to you started beeping in alarm. Panic surged through Eli's veins as he realized he couldn't calm you down on his own.

Summoning all his strength, Eli reached for the call button beside your bed, his fingers trembling as he pressed it urgently. Within moments, a nurse rushed into the room, her expression grave as she assessed the situation.

"What's going on?" the nurse asked, her voice calm and reassuring as she moved to your bedside, checking the monitors and IV lines with practiced efficiency.

Eli's voice cracked with emotion as he tried to explain the situation, his words rushed and frantic. "She's...she's scared," he admitted, tears streaming down his face as he watched you struggle. "Please, you have to help her."

The nurse nodded solemnly, her eyes filled with compassion as she turned her attention to you, speaking to you in soothing tones as she tried to calm your fears. Slowly but surely, your cries began to subside, the sound of your heartbeat on the monitor steadying as the nurse worked her magic.

As the tension in the room began to ease, Eli sank into the chair beside your bed, his body shaking with sobs as he struggled to come to terms with the enormity of what had happened. His heart ached with a profound sense of guilt and regret, knowing that he couldn't protect you from the pain and suffering you now faced.

But through the tears and the anguish, one thing remained clear: his love for you was unwavering, a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatened to consume them both. Together, they would face the challenges ahead, drawing strength from each other and the bond that bound them as father and daughter.

Days later, long after the chaos of the accident had settled into a grim routine, Eli found himself sitting alone at the dinner table, the harsh fluorescent light casting long shadows across the room. His usually neat and orderly demeanor was replaced by a haggard expression, lines of worry etched deep into his furrowed brow.

Late into the night, with only the soft glow of the lamp illuminating the room, Eli sat hunched over his notebook, the sound of the calculator's buttons clicking rhythmically filling the silence. His hand shook slightly as he scribbled down figures, his mind racing with the daunting task that lay before him.

Sarah approached quietly, her footsteps barely audible against the cold tile floor. She rested a gentle hand on Eli's shoulder, her touch a fleeting comfort in the midst of their shared sorrow. "Eli, what are you doing?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with concern as she peered over his shoulder at the notebook filled with calculations.

Eli's baritone voice cracked with emotion as he struggled to compose himself, his eyes red and swollen from hours of restless contemplation. "I'm...I'm calculating the hospital bill," he admitted, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper. "And the cost of...of [Your Name]'s treatment."

A heavy sigh escaped Sarah's lips as she glanced towards the twins' bedroom, where you lay sleeping, your small form obscured by the darkness of the night. "We're going to have to buy an electric wheelchair for her," she murmured sadly, her voice barely a whisper as she struggled to contain her own emotions.

The weight of her words hung heavily in the air, a stark reminder of the challenges that lay ahead for their family. Eli's hand trembled as he dropped the pencil onto the table, his head sinking into his hands as he fought back the overwhelming wave of despair that threatened to consume him.

Sarah moved to comfort him, her own tears glistening in the dim light as she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. "We'll figure it out, Eli," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "We'll find a way to give her the life she deserves, no matter what it takes."

But Eli's anguish was palpable, his heart heavy with the weight of his daughter's suffering. "She's so sad, Sarah," he choked out, his voice thick with tears. "She used to talk to me all the time, but now...now she won't even look at me. I hate seeing her like this, Sarah. I hate it."

Tears streamed down Sarah's face as she held her husband close, her own heart breaking at the thought of her precious daughter's pain. "I know, Eli," she murmured, her voice trembling with sorrow. "But we have to stay strong for her. She needs us now more than ever."

But Eli couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of despair that threatened to engulf him. Why did this have to happen to you? You didn't deserve this, his mind screamed, the injustice of it all weighing heavily on his weary soul.

As he clung to Sarah in the darkness of the night, Eli vowed to do whatever it took to ease his daughter's suffering, to find a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to consume them all. But in that moment, as he wept silently into the night, he couldn't help but wonder if their family would ever be whole again.

Meanwhile, in the dimly lit bedroom, you lay awake, your gaze fixed on the ceiling as you struggled against the invisible chains that bound you to your bed. Every fiber of your being screamed out for movement, but no matter how hard you tried, your limbs remained stubbornly immobile, trapped in a prison of flesh and bone.

Tears welled up in your eyes as frustration and despair washed over you in waves, the pain of your helplessness gnawing at your soul. You choked back a sob, your throat constricting with emotion as you fought to keep your composure in the darkness of the night.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Barkley stirred in his bed, his restless murmurs breaking the silence of the night. His voice, tinged with bitterness and resentment, cut through the stillness like a knife as he mumbled loud enough for you to hear.

"It must be bad being trapped in your own body," Barkley muttered, his words laced with a cruel edge as he turned to look at you, his eyes glinting in the dim light.

You turned your head to face your twin brother, your heart sinking at the venom in his tone. "Go to sleep, Barkley," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "Leave me alone."

But Barkley ignored your plea, his voice growing louder as he continued to taunt you. "You've become useless now, haven't you?" he sneered, his words like daggers piercing your heart. "Just like a doll, unable to move unless someone else moves you."

Tears streamed down your face as Barkley's words cut through you like a knife, his cruel jabs twisting the knife of your own insecurities. You turned your head away, unable to bear the weight of his scorn any longer, your heart heavy with the pain of his betrayal.

But Barkley was relentless, his voice dripping with malice as he reveled in your anguish. "What's the matter, little sister?" he taunted, his voice low and mocking. "Can't handle the truth? Face it, you're nothing but a burden now."

Each word was like a blow to your already battered soul, the weight of Barkley's hatred crushing you beneath its weight. You clung to the silence of the night, praying for reprieve from his cruelty, but deep down, you knew that his words would haunt you long after the darkness lifted.

As you lay there, broken and alone, you couldn't help but wonder how your once-close bond with your twin had devolved into this toxic cycle of resentment and betrayal. But in the darkness of the night, with only your tears for company, there were no answers to be found, only the harsh reality of your shattered dreams.

The next morning, as the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, you resigned yourself to the new routine that had become your reality. Your dependence on your parents for even the most basic tasks weighed heavily on your shoulders, a constant reminder of the life you once knew slipping further and further away.

Today, you watched as your father, Eli, carefully dressed you in a pair of big socks. Confusion etched across your face as you glanced down at the unfamiliar garment, your curiosity piqued by its purpose.

"What's that, Daddy?" you asked, your voice small and uncertain as you looked up at Eli for answers.

Eli's heart clenched at the innocence in your question, his own emotions raw and tender as he struggled to find the right words. "It's a special sock, sweetheart," he explained gently, his voice tinged with sadness. "It helps your blood circulate to your legs, so they don't get sore from not moving."

You assented, watching in silence as Eli carefully adjusted the sock, his movements slow and deliberate as he worked to ensure your comfort. Despite his efforts to conceal his own sorrow, you could see the pain etched into the lines of his face, a silent testament to the depth of his love for you.

Once the socks were in place, Eli sat back on the edge of the bed, his eyes meeting yours in a silent plea for understanding. "Would you like to sit on the porch for a while?" he asked softly, his voice filled with a quiet hope. "It's a beautiful day outside, and I thought you might enjoy some fresh air."

But you shook your head stubbornly, your eyes downcast as you turned away from him. "No, thank you," you whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper as you buried yourself deeper into the blankets. "I just want to stay here."

Eli's heart sank at your response, his own disappointment mingling with a sense of resignation as he struggled to contain his emotions. He knew that forcing you to do anything you didn't want to do would only make things worse, but it pained him to see you withdraw further into yourself with each passing day.

"Alright, sweetheart," Eli murmured, his voice heavy with regret as he reached out to gently stroke your hair. "You just let me know if you change your mind, okay? I'll be right here if you need anything."

But you remained silent, your eyes fixed on the ceiling as a heavy silence settled over the room. Eli sighed softly, his heart heavy with the weight of your pain, as he struggled to find the right words to ease your suffering.

"Your mother is going to buy an electric wheelchair for you today," Eli continued, his voice tinged with forced cheerfulness as he tried to change the subject. "Once we have that, you'll be able to get around the house more easily. And maybe...maybe you can go back to school soon."

The mention of school seemed to strike a nerve, and you tensed visibly, your breath catching in your throat as you struggled to contain your emotions. "I don't want to go to school," you whispered, your voice trembling with fear and uncertainty. "I don't want everyone to see me like this."

Eli's heart shattered at the sound of your distress, his own eyes filling with tears as he reached out to comfort you. "Shh, sweetheart, it's okay," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he gently wiped away your tears. "We'll figure it out together, I promise. You don't have to go back until you're ready."

But you shook your head stubbornly, your frustration bubbling to the surface as you struggled to contain your anger. "I don't want to go!" you cried out, your voice echoing through the room as you lashed out in desperation. "I don't want everyone to see me like this!"

Eli's frustration mounted as he struggled to contain his own emotions, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. "I know, sweetheart, I know," he whispered, his voice strained with anguish as he reached out to hold you close. "But you can't hide from the world forever. You're still the same amazing girl you've always been, and nobody can take that away from you. Please, sweetheart, don't shut us out. We're here for you, no matter what."

But you ignore him, growing angrier as you take your anger out on your father, shouting accusations at him that echo off the walls of the room like a relentless barrage of blame. With each word, Eli's heart clenches with anguish, his own emotions raw as he struggles to comprehend the depth of your pain.

"It's your fault!" you cried out, your voice thick with resentment as you lashed out in desperation. "You should have protected me! You should have kept me safe! But you didn't, and now look at me! I can't move, I can't do anything on my own! I'm just a burden to everyone, like a doll that needs to be taken care of!"

Eli's breath caught in his throat at your words, his chest tightening with a sense of guilt and remorse that threatened to suffocate him. "No, sweetheart, no," he protested, his voice trembling with emotion as he reached out to you, his hands shaking with anguish. "It wasn't my fault. I never wanted this to happen to you. I would do anything to take your place, to spare you from this pain."

But you shook your head stubbornly, your anger unyielding as you continued to heap blame upon him. "You should have been there for me!" you insisted, your voice rising with each accusation. "You should have protected me, but you didn't! You let me down, Daddy! You let me down!"

Eli's heart shattered into a million pieces at your words, his breath catching in his throat as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"Sweetheart, please," he pleaded, his voice thick with anguish as he reached out to you, his hands trembling with emotion. "I know you're hurting, but you have to understand...this is tearing me apart too."

But you continued to lash out, your accusations ringing in his ears like a relentless echo of pain. Each word was like a dagger to his heart, reopening old wounds and magnifying his sense of failure and inadequacy as a father.

"I hate you!" you screamed, your voice filled with rage and despair as you pushed him away, your eyes blazing with anger. "You're supposed to protect me, but you didn't! You let this happen to me!"

Eli staggered back, his world spinning as the weight of your words bore down on him like a crushing weight. His chest tightened with a sense of suffocation, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he struggled to make sense of the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatened to consume him.

"Do you think this is easy for me?" Eli demanded, his voice trembling with anguish as he fought to control his rising anger. "Do you have any idea what it was like for me to see you lying there, injured and helpless? To hear the doctors tell me that you would never walk again?"

His words hung in the air like a heavy fog, enveloping the room in a suffocating silence as you stared at him, your eyes wide with shock and disbelief. Eli's voice cracked with emotion as he continued, his words tinged with bitterness and regret.

"I would give anything to take your place," Eli whispered, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper as he struggled to contain his tears. "I would trade places with you in a heartbeat, if it meant sparing you from this pain. But I can't, sweetheart. All I can do is be here for you, to love you and support you in any way I can."

Tears streamed down Eli's face unchecked as he sank to his knees beside your bed, his heart breaking into a million pieces as he reached out to take your hand in his. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm so, so sorry."

But you remained silent, your eyes fixed on the ceiling as a heavy silence settled over the room. Eli's shoulders shook with sobs as he buried his face in his hands, the weight of his guilt and regret crushing him beneath its unbearable weight.

In that moment, as the darkness of despair threatened to swallow you both, Eli and you stood together in silent anguish, your bond as father and daughter the only solace in a world full of pain and regret. And as the tears continued to fall, Eli vowed to weather the storm together, drawing strength from each other in the face of their shared grief.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Enamored Extra Scene - 13

[Set in: During and post chapter 34]

Married.

They were to be married.

Anthony felt as if he hadn’t stopped smiling since he had woken up. He could barely wait until breakfast, and for almost an hour he had been pacing in his bedroom, trying to contain his excitement for the day to come.

He wondered whether he could bring her here without any whispers in the hallways, just to ask her opinion about how she would like the room to look. The room next to his –which was designed to be the Viscountess’ room- would be used for her clothes and whatever else she would want to put there.

There was no way he would even entertain the idea of them sleeping separately.

She belonged to his room and his bed and he didn’t want to let her out of his sight, let alone a completely separate room.  

He checked the clock on the wall and took a deep breath, then walked out of his room. Though he was dying to get to Avon house, he figured he had to tell his family so he made his way to the drawing room where all of them were in.

“Anthony, we were just about to call you,” his mother said as soon as he stepped in and he smiled at her.

“So I’m in a hurry with no time to lose but I wanted to let you all know,” he said, looking at the room. “I’m uh— I’m getting married.”

The impact of his words was almost immediate. His mother gasped, Eloise’s eyes widened, while Hyacinth and Gregory cheered, making Francesca bite down a smile. Colin dropped the apple he was nibbling on and Benedict raised his brows and shook his head, subtly pointing at something over his shoulder but Anthony paid no mind to it.

“I asked her last night, she said yes,” Anthony said with a slight grin, “I’m on my way to Avon house now and—”

“I’m sorry,” Elias’s voice reached him, “What did you just say?”

Oh God damn it.

Anthony looked over his shoulder to see Elias by the table, gawking at him and he tilted his head.

“What are you doing here?”

“Cece and I wanted to—forget about that. What did you just say?”

Anthony opened his mouth but as if on cue, Cecily entered the room.

“Oh hello Anthony!”

“Good morning Cecily,” he said. “Thank you again, by the way.”

“Of course.”

“What on earth is happening?” Elias asked, looking between them and Anthony looked at Cecily to ask for her permission and she nodded, so he turned to Elias.

“Eli—”

“Please don’t tell me you asked my sister to marry you.”

“I did, and she said yes,” Anthony said, making Elias let out a whine. “And Cecily has been very helpful.”

“You helped him!?” Elias exclaimed and Cecily nodded her head again.

“Yes.”

“I thought you hated him!”

“I too thought that,” Eloise pointed out and Cecily shrugged her shoulders.

“I just hated the whole rake charade.”

“Does this mean she will come to live with us?” Hyacinth asked excitedly, making both Elias and Anthony turn to her.

“Yes—”

“No!”

“Elias.”

“Even if that marriage were to take place, she’s not going to live with you. You can come see her at the weekends with a chaperone, that’s it.”

Colin repressed a laugh and Benedict kicked him as subtly as he could while their mother cleared her throat.

“Francesca, would you please take Hyacinth and Gregory to the garden?”

“Of course,” she said and walked out with them, ignoring their protests, closing the door behind her. His mother turned to Anthony.

“Now, when did you propose?”

“Last night at the masquerade. Cecily helped and I really need to go—”

“You stay where I can see you, you goddamn heathen.” Elias growled before turning to Cecily. “Cece, why would you help him?”

Cecily shot him a look.

“He’s in love, and she loves him back,” she insisted, making Anthony’s heart skip a beat. “I want my best friend to be happy, and I’m guessing you do as well, no?”

“He’s a rake!”

“He used to be, but not anymore.”

“That doesn’t matter!”

Anthony heaved a sigh. “Do I need to be here for this conversation?”

“Anthony if you move, I will shoot you. I know where you keep your pistol.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m in a hurry here.”

“For what?”

“I need to talk to your father.”

Elias’s jaw dropped. “You haven’t even talked to him yet?”

“I believe your sister calls it viva la revolution,” Anthony deadpanned, eyeing the door and Colin frowned.

“Doesn’t Lord Avon hate you?”

“Oh he does. Very much so.”

“So you didn’t talk to him or me?” Elias asked him and he shook his head.

“She says—”

“If the words viva la revolution leave your mouth Anthony, I swear to God…”

Cecily waved her hands. “Listen, the first time she rejected him, so on the second time—”

“You proposed to her before?!” Elias exclaimed and all of a sudden, the whole room erupted into chaos.

“What do you—”

“You proposed?”

“I don’t even know if you can call that a proposal, I told him that.”

“Wait why?”

“Oh he didn’t tell you about that? Listen to this, he started listing—”

“Cecily, don’t tell them that!”

“She rejected you?”

“When did that even—”

“Children!” his mother’s voice cut through the multiple voices. “One at a time. Anthony, she rejected your proposal?”

“Once, yes.”

“Oh how I wish it were twice,” Elias grumbled. “When?”

“At Stormview.”

Elias blinked a couple of times. “You proposed to my sister at my wedding weekend?!”

“That barely counts as a proposal,” Cecily commented, “No wonder she rejected first.”

“That explains some things though,” Colin said. “Was it before or after Sinclair proposed?”

“Right before.”

“You went to console him about her after she rejected both of you?”

“Yes Colin, and it was a terrible time for me thank you for asking.”

Eloise hummed. “Mr. Sinclair did need some consolation though, he wrote her multiple poems after she rejected him.”

“Yeah Anthony, what did you do? You just shaved your beard.”

Anthony ran a hand over his face and his mother sat up straighter.

“So she said yes this time?” she asked and Anthony nodded.

“Yes and—”

“You didn’t think to let me know beforehand?” Elias asked and Anthony shrugged his shoulders.

“Elias, you’ve heard what she said,” he told him. “Before you proposed to Cecily. She wants to be asked first, not you or your father.”

Elias let out a breath and shook his head.

“No,” he said. “No way. That marriage is not taking place—”

“She already said yes, Eli.”

Elias groaned and Cecily smiled softly, reaching out to pat his back. “There there, it’s going to be okay.”

“Why is this happening to me?” Elias asked to no one in particular, making Anthony exchange glances with Cecily. “Why is God punishing me? Is it because of my sister’s hubris?”

“I doubt it.”

“Anthony, after you talk to Lord Avon you must bring her here,” his mother said and Eloise nodded.

“Certainly. We will call for the doctor as well so that he can check whether she has gone insane.”

“Eloise.”

“She agreed to marry Anthony, I think we must check it.”

“Alright, I’m leaving,” Anthony said and Elias’s head shot up.

“We’re coming too.”

Anthony made a face. “Seriously?”

“You asked my sister to marry you without letting me know,” Elias pointed at him. “Of course I will be there.”

“Great,” he grumbled and walked out of the drawing room, with Elias and Cecily following him and it was only when they stepped outside Elias groaned again.

“I don’t like this!” he announced and Anthony shot him a look.

“Noted.”

“Are you sure she said yes?” Elias asked. “Maybe you just misheard.”

“I’m one hundred percent sure, Elias.”

“Great,” Elias grumbled and Cecily let out a laugh.

“Come on,” she grabbed Elias’s hand to pull him towards the carriage and he followed her like a grumpy puppy.

“I hate you so much Anthony,” he called out before getting in the carriage and Anthony shook his head slightly, then got on his carriage as well.

“Where to, my lord?”

“Avon House, thank you.” Anthony told the coachman, his heart beat speeding up when her beautiful face flashed before his eyes, a smile pulling at his lips. As soon as the carriage moved, he started going over what he would say to Lord Avon for what felt like the hundredth time since last night.

He had to convince him, and he had to convince him fast because now that she had said yes, -which he still couldn’t believe- he was done waiting.

When the carriage stopped in front of the huge house after a couple of minutes, he got off and saw Elias climbing the marble stairs while Cecily made her way to him.

“He’s not going to make this easy for me, is he?” he asked and Cecily grinned.

“I doubt it,” she said. “You’d better have some good negotiation skills, Bridgerton.”  

Anthony took a deep breath and threw his shoulders back, then followed Elias up the stairs.