#i’ve had this vision of my inserts/ocs room for SUCH a long time. i’m so glad puri brought it to life and even added her own touches

[vultursvolans]

(click on image for better quality)

Her room was a portrait of his longing. Books left askew. Pages crumpled in haste. Clothes forgotten in his rush to reach her. At long last, the scribe had no need for ink or quill. For in the warmth of her hands, he was reconciled with something words could never capture.

Commission by @/Puri24A on twt. Do not save or repost.

[something-fanfiction-ie]

The Years

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: *SMUT* So you embarrass yourself in front of Derek and Spencer, the details of the case are mentioned and are a little intense, and smut. Like, rough, Spencer smut because there is nothing you can say that could convince me that Spencer Reid is a bottom. And swearing.

A/N: AH THE ENDING PROBABLY SUCKS BUT I TRIED REALLY HARD I PROMISE. Also, this is ridiculously long and not all of it is smut. For a hot second this WAS an OC story but I thought you guys would enjoy a self-insert more so I changed it. LOTS AND LOTS OF THANKS TO MY FAV FIC WRITER AND NEW TUMBLR FRIENDS, @reidmorefanfics and @pomsephone Y’all are the best. Also, remember to shower me in reblogs, comments, asks, messages, likes, and anything else you can think of to boost my ego. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND THANK YOU GUYS FOR READING!!!

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“Actually, that reminds me of a joke that I know.” At the front of the crowded lecture hall, a young Dr. Spencer Reid looks over at his partner eagerly, a smile already splitting his lips apart. Derek Morgan, however, looks over at his partner with a mixture of fear and secondhand embarrassment.

“Reid, I don’t think-” Morgan tries to save him, he really does, but Reid tucks his hair behind his ears and ignores him by starting the joke.

“Einstein, Heisenberg, Newton, and Pascal are playing hide and seek. Einstein covers his eyes and begins counting. While Heisenberg and Pascal run off and hide, Newton takes out some chalk and marks a square on the ground with a side length of exactly 1 meter, then sits down inside the square. When Einstein is finished counting and sees Newton sitting on the ground, he yells, "Ha, I've found you, Newton!". Newton however replies, "No you haven't! You've found Pascal!’”

A short, surprised laugh joins Spencer’s small chuckles, dragging his eyes to the location the sound had come from. Derek looks too, completely taken aback that anyone other than Reid had actually understood the joke. Yet, lo and behold, a young girl sitting in the front row with her cheeks stoplight red and her hand nervously covering her mouth.

Proudly, Spencer nods for Morgan to end the talk, his chest a little puffed out and a smug smile twitching at his lips. They wrap things up quickly, eager to grab some food after leaving campus and before heading back to the BAU.

When Spencer turns to gather his things, grabbing his bag, he notices the soft shuffle of feet against the hardwood flooring of the stage. A pair of black converse peek into his peripheral vision, attached to a pair of long legs that make Spencer blush for noticing at all. Lifting his eyes further, he meets the shy gaze of the only person who had laughed at his joke. It came as no surprise when he sees that your tee shirt had a picture of a cat with the words ‘Wanted: Dead and Alive’ in block lettering.

“Dr. Reid,” Your left hand comes up to push a stray lock of hair away from your face, a single gold band wrapped around your left index finger, “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I just, uhm, I had a couple questions?”

Looping the strap of his bag over his head and letting the familiar weight of it settle against his hip before he responds, Spencer ignores the way Derek looks at him by pretending he isn’t there at all.

“Of course,” Spencer meets your eyes, which are a beautiful shade of (y/e/c). “I like the shirt by the way. I’m not usually much of a t-shirt person, but I might wear one like that.” You laugh, shifting on your feet and twisting the ring on your finger.

“Thank you, I got it as a Christmas present. Along with ten billion other nerdy t-shirts. But uhm, I was curious how old you were when you joined the FBI?” Morgan holds his tongue, pretending to shuffle papers around and not pay attention to the poor girl’s crush.

“I was twenty-two. I finished two of my doctorates the year prior.”

“I thought you had to be twenty-three? I’ve always wanted to join the FBI as soon as I could but I thought I had a little more time. That’s what I read anyways. I could be wrong, you would know more than I do.” You looked down at your shoes, kicking the toe of one converse into the wood, your hair falling forward over your shoulders.

“No, you’re right. I had an age waiver. You’re eighteen? Nineteen? You’ve still got some time to prepare.”

“I’m seventeen, actually.” Your lips skewed to the side, the confession barely above a whisper as you continued to stare at your feet. Spencer blanched, unable to contain his surprise. He was quick to school his features, though, when you finally looked back at him.

“You’re seventeen and you understood his joke?” Morgan couldn’t help but cut in now, stepping away from the table he’d been pushing papers around on and toward the two younger people left in the room.

“A pascal is a unit of measurement equal to one Newton per square meter. By sitting in a square meter, Newton was being one newton per square meter. Which is, again, equal to a pascal. So he was Pascal.” A smile had worked it’s way past the nerves that jumped around your body. You weren’t very used to talking to young, attractive, intelligent doctors who worked for the FBI.

“Although, even if I hadn’t understood the science behind the joke I might have still laughed. You see, there is this thing called the Halo Effect, which is basically a cognitive bias you might develop based on your initial impression of someone that can change how you feel about their specific traits. Essentially, one example would be that someone you find attractive may seem funnier or more intelligent simply because you find them attractive.”

It takes all of a second for your face to turn beat red as you realizes your nervous ramblings have made you reveal the silly crush you had started to develop on the young doctor. Derek’s lips purse in amusement when he sees the similar shade of red that has colored his partner’s cheeks.

“Not that I’m saying I find you attractive,” Your heart stops cold in your chest and you are quick to retract the statement. “Not to say you’re ugly either, because that’s not what I’m trying to say at all. Just that my first impression of you as a nice and attr- I mean, intelligent man could have very well made my amusement slightly biased because I was more willing to like you based solely on my first impression of you. Which was that you are very nice and, and intelligent.”

It takes all the willpower in the world for you not to throw yourself down the stairwell later that day, the embarrassment having barely faded even hours later. The two men had been quick to assure you they knew you weren’t saying you had a crush on Dr. Reid, but they were obviously just trying to protect your feelings. They wouldn’t be FBI Profilers if they couldn’t tell you had a crush on him. The conversation was pretty much over after that, you being suddenly desperate to make an escape and Dr. Reid just as eager to leave the campus grounds.

The whole team teased him about his teenage fan for months after it happened, Derek had been quick to let everyone know when they came back. Reid had tried to hide from them by scrunching down into his seat and covering his face with a book, but it hadn’t helped him at all.

Eventually though, both you and Spencer were able to move on from the embarrassing moment, though neither of you forgot it. Those moments where you’re all alone and the most embarrassing moments of your life come to creep up and embarrass you all over again? The memory always came back during those moments.

The team, however, seemed to forget about it, Gideon and Elle leaving and Rossi and Prentiss replacing them as the years faded the memory for them.

It wasn’t until JJ took her new position at the Pentagon and Ashley left after her brief consultation on the case in New Mexico that the memory came back to truly haunt you both.

The whole team had heard whispers of a ‘probationary agent’ that would be stepping in to assist wherever needed. Hotch was good at keeping quiet and avoiding questions on the matter, somehow keeping Penelope just as much out of the loop as the rest of the team.

No one was even sure when the new agent was supposed to be coming until the glass doors to the BAU opened and in stepped a young woman with (y/h/c) hair and (y/e/c) eyes. Derek squinted his eyes, your face tickling the back of his memory in a way that annoyed him. Spencer tensed, his eidetic memory quick to remind him of the seventeen year old girl that had basically confessed she thought he was cute, and then called him ‘not ugly’ to try and cover her tracks.

“Agent (Y/L/N), nice to finally meet you.” Hotch said, holding the door open as you nodded your thanks and slipped inside his office with a box in your arms.

“That must be the probationary agent.” Prentiss directed the comment at Reid, oblivious to the resurfaced embarrassment that boiled his cheeks to that same shade of red he’d been in that lecture hall seven years ago. He kept his book up in front of his face while he tried to cool his cheeks, looking over the top of the binding and into Hotch’s window.

You’re sitting ram-rod straight in the seat in front of Hotch’s desk that is closest to the door, your box of things clutched tightly in your white-knuckled hands. Your hair is still the same length, swaying at your shoulders. You’ve switched the Schrödinger’s cat shirt for a deep velvet red dress shirt with the sleeves rolled at your elbows.

But even with the obvious nerves displayed in your current body language, it’s easy to see you aren’t the same stuttering seventeen year old Reid remembers. You holds steady eye contact with Hotch, nodding and fluidly responding in such a way that the usually stoic unit chief actually breaks into a grin that dimples his cheeks. When he stretches over his desk for a handshake, your left hand comes up and grips Hotch’s firmly.

“I’m glad it’s a girl, it was starting to feel a little too testosteronie around here with JJ gone.” Garcia had made her way into the bullpen, a cup of tea balanced in her bejeweled fingers as she, and the rest of the team, size up the girl heading for Hotch’s door.

“I don’t think ‘testosteronie’ is a word, baby girl.” Derek teases, trying to ignore the nagging feelings that he knows this girl from somewhere. Maybe they’d met on a case? But no, that doesn’t feel right.

“It is now, Derek. Don’t argue with me or I��ll have to punish you.” She brings the lip of her cup up, sipping at the lukewarm tea still inside and patting Morgan’s cheek with her free hand. Hotch’s door finally opens again and you step out after Aaron.

A hush falls over the room, all eyes trained to the newest and now youngest member of the team.

“We’ll do introductions on the plane, for now I need everyone in the conference room for a case.” Hotch is quick to make eye contact with everyone, his gaze stern and demanding.

Spencer is the last one into the room, practically dragging his feet to one of the chairs around the circle table. Thankfully, you were sitting across the table. Somehow you haven’t seemed to notice him.

“Yesterday Dawes County police found the body of Julia Hastings along a hiking trail in Kladon. This is the second body they have found in the area in two weeks, the first belonging to Heather Greenaway. Both victims are in their early to mid twenties. Hands and feet bound, buried face down. Each victim was struck once in the back of the head, making cause of death blunt force trauma.”

From your spot at the table, you glance up with narrowed eyes as you open the file you’d been given at the beginning of the meeting.

“Where did they disappear from?” Reid asks, a connection forming in his brain as each picture and detail flies up from Garcia’s tablet and onto the projected pictures before them.

“Night clubs around the area, they were working on the night they each went missing. Both girls were bartenders, had been working at their new jobs a week before they were kidnapped.”

“Justin Millers had the same M.O., kidnapping new female bartenders fitting this exact victimology and holding them hostage for a course of five days, beating and raping them before eventually hitting them on the back of the head with a tire iron.” You don’t look up from the file as you speak, flipping through the pictures and quickly noticing the small odd similarities in the victims between this case and Millers’ case.

“Millers has been locked away for a year and a half.” Derek pointed out, using the opportunity to stare at the face of the girl he was sure he knew but still couldn’t place. When you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed in a way that reminds him of Reid and your head tilted just a little to the side, he can feel his brain grab onto the memory just before it slips back through his fingers.

“I’d guess a copycat. Something seems different, I just can’t put my finger on it.” Your gaze slides over the table, looking at faces to get a gauge of their opinions on you. When you make eye contact with Reid, your eyes widen just a little before you duck your head. You should have known he was still here at the BAU, you’d only hoped he’d went to another unit out of desperation for this job.

“We’ll look into that theory, for now I just want a profile as if this unsub is working from his own killing preferences. We’ll discuss more on the way there. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch stands, flipping the cover over the top of his iPad before making his way out of the room. Go bags are grabbed, certain persons avoid bumping into other certain persons, and then the eight hour plane ride to Kladon, Nebraska begins.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Emily tests the name on her lips, having chosen to move by the younger girl after the fourty five minute theory discussion that started the plane ride.

“You can call me (Y/N/N), that’s what my best friend calls me.” You had popped the first two buttons open of your dress shirt and slipped your shoes off to tuck your feet underneath you. Tucked between your thigh and the arm of the seat is a book with a Greek title, in your hands is the open case file.

“Just your best friend?” Rossi asks from across the way, just as curious about the new girl as the rest of them, but a little better at hiding it.

“She’s really my only friend.” You shrug, but not in such a way that you seem bothered by the fact. You reach up to push a strand of hair behind your ear. Reid notices the gold ring that still circles your left index finger, light coming from the window glinting off the metal when you move. It’s the only jewelry you wears.

“A bit of a loner?” Derek joins the conversation, moving up the aisle of the jet with a cup of something hot cradled in his hands. He takes the seat directly in front of you, blowing at the liquid in his cup.

“I was more focused on getting through school than making friends. Emma just happened to be the only person who wouldn’t let me shake her.” There’s a smile on your lips as you talk about your best friend, your eyes soft.

“What did you go to college for?” Derek is fishing, looking for something to tell him where he knows you from. It amuses Reid, who has sequestered himself into a corner a little further away from you than everyone else.

“I have a masters in philosophy, with a focus in Ancient Greek philosophy. I have a bachelor’s in Greek, which is the only other living language I can speak and read outside of English, and I have two doctorates; one in Classic Studies and one in Criminology.” Rossi whistles, shaking his head and leaning back into his seat to express what everyone else is feeling.

“You young people just keep getting smarter and smarter. You know how many doctorates I had at your age? None. You know how many I have now?” You look at him with genuine curiosity, drinking in all the information you can about the people around you like it was a class you were taking to survive.

“None.” The laugh that bubbles from your lips is infectious and carefree, it pulls Reid’s attention away from his book and it drags Hotch from the constant state of worry that he mentally paces in. Emily, Derek, and Rossi all exchange looks before their own laughter fills the air. It’s nice.

The feeling reminds you of that scene in Mary Poppins where Dick Van Dyke and Ed Wynn laugh themselves into the ceiling. So light and carefree that it could lift them into the sky.

“Why all the attention on the Greek?” Prentiss manages when the laughter subsides, reaching down for the book the young doctor has tucked away. Η φόνισσα, it reads with a black and white picture of arms twisted to the side of the bookcover. You make no move to grab for it, letting the other woman flip through the pages.

“My father was a Greek Philosophy professor before he died, I suppose it’s my way of trying to stay close to him.” Prentiss looks up from the pages, a look of sympathy in her eyes.

“And your mother?” The change in your entire demeanor is like cold water on the conversation, freezing the group in their spots. You reach for the book, tucking it back into the space between your thigh and the seat.

“I don’t know.” It’s the only blatant lie you’ve told since they started talking to you, averting your eyes and shifting in your seat. No one presses the topic, giving the new girl the space you need.

You take the case file with you when you go to make a cup of coffee in the small kitchenette situated in the back of the plane. Reid is already back there, pouring a steady stream of sugar into the otherwise black liquid.

“Dr. Reid.” You nod your head in greeting, avoiding his eyes by setting your folder on the counter and pretending to read it. You’ve been going over every detail of the case for so long that you’ve memorized everything there is to know. There are notes and theories scribbled into the margins and little sticky notes with questions scattered around the papers.

“It helps to step away for a little bit, that way when we land you come back to it with fresh eyes.” The utensils drawer clicks shut as Reid grabs a spoon to stir his coffee, risking the chance to finally look at you.

You’re twisting the ring on your finger and chewing the inside of your cheek. Without your shoes on, the top of your head comes to his shoulders.

When you look up at him, (y/e/c) eyes thoughtful and just as curious as the day they met, Reid can’t fight the urge that draws his gaze to your lips. The skin there is so very soft looking, surprising him when the thought of kissing them hits him like a train.

He clears his throat, focusing all of his attention on the coffee cup in front of him. The sugar is completely stirred in at this point, but he kind of wants to stay in the hopes that you’ll strike up a conversation.

“But everyone is different so you don’t have to listen to me, just do whatever helps you.” His shoulders lift in a shrug and he’s glad that nobody is there to see him interact with this girl. They would know how he felt before he could even come to terms with it himself.

As quickly as you are there, you leave. Completely flustered and unsure how to go about navigating a relationship that’s foundation was an unintentional love confession. Maybe, you thought as you leaned into your seat and closed your eyes, if I just ignore him then everything will be fine.

By the time the jet touched down in Nebraska, you had fallen into a dead sleep with your book sitting open in your lap. Emily was the one to reach out and gently shake your shoulder, the smile on her face gentle and motherly. Still blinking away sleep, you quickly scrambled to grab your bag and book before rushing for the exit.

Unfortunately for you, the shoe laces on one of your shoes hadn’t been completely tied. Add that to the speed in which you were trying to separate yourself from Reid, and you managed to trip over your feet and right into the person you were trying to avoid.

Your bag hit the ground, the book following suit as a warm hand grabbed you by your upper arm and pulled. When you collided with someone’s chest, you didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Reid smelled like old books, laundry detergent, and cinnamon.

“Your shoe is untied.” He said, his voice rumbling in his chest. You didn’t look up, afraid the heat in your cheeks would give you away. You looked down instead, noticing the way your feet were inside the breadth of his stance. One shoe’s laces laid precariously around your foot as if mocking you. Quickly, you took a step away and almost tripped again on your bag. You caught yourself on one of the seats, holding a hand out to keep Reid from grabbing you again.

“Thank you, I’m okay. Really.” You didn’t meet his eyes, every lewd thought you’d had during that stupid lecture about his lips and hands and hair came rushing back at you with every glance. You wouldn’t be surprised if he could see each fantasy written on your face like a lusty, ten-cent romance novel.

Morgan, having stopped to watch the two doctors in your clearly flustered states, suddenly felt it click in his brain. Sure, you were older and not as squirrelly as he remembered, but the way you were looking at his partner was nearly the exact same as you had seven years ago.

Feeling smug for finally figuring it out, he walked up to Spencer with his bag thrown over his shoulder, stopping beside him as they both watched you rush for the exit.

“Can you imagine someone having a crush on you for seven years? Oh, wait.” Bending down to grab his bag, Spencer shook his head in such a way that a few loose curls tangled on his eyelashes. A simple sweep of his hand across his face helped to push it away.

“It took you long enough to figure it out.” Spencer took the lead, dreading the car ride with Derek to the medical examiners. He had been hoping his older partner wouldn’t remember who you were, at least, until the case was solved.

“Oh ho ho, don’t think you can avoid this conversation with insults, pretty boy.” Morgan was hot on his tail, and that was exactly where he stayed for the next three days that the team was in Nebraska.

The killer was, in fact, a massive fan of the infamous Justin Millers. It was just a matter of pinpointing which of the crazy fanatics he was, which might have been easier if the local populace was more open to talking to law enforcement.

It was by a brilliant stroke of luck, or rather misfortune, that the team realized sending you undercover would help on many different levels. Not only did you fit the victimology, (all they needed to do was get you a ‘job’ at one of the local bars) but you would also be able to get information from the civilians that were unwilling to talk to the FBI.

Four days into your undercover mission, you found yourself wiping down the counter after closing. The band was packing up their equipment on stage and your boss had already left. Laily, the only other bartender here tonight, was flirting with the drummer while you closed things up behind the counter.

As was customary, the members of your team had taken turns following you around everyday just in case anything happened. Today just so happened to be Spencer’s turn, you’d managed to slip him into the back room before all the customers had left for the night. It was the only reason you gave Laily the okay when she asked if you would be cool closing by yourself tonight.

“I can’t believe after five years of college, I’m back to bartending.” You grumbled, shouldering the backroom door open with a box full of beer in your hands. Spencer jumped up from the crate he’d been leaning against, holding the back of the door open so you could get in a little easier.

“You were a bartender before?” He asked curiously, trying to ignore the way the low-cut black uniform shirt you were wearing fit against your figure and twisted his insides. Factor in the tight jeans that hung on your hips and the sheen of sweat on your skin from the hot summer night and he could barely focus, let alone protect you from any possible threats.

“The years between my college graduation and my joining the FBI, yeah. I could have done something different, I guess, but I wanted to have a normal young adult job before I spent the rest of my life chasing serial killers and such.” You turned to face him, actually meeting his eyes for the first time this week.

Unlike you, he was wearing his FBI Kevlar. The navy blue tie that he wore was tucked into the top of it, the baby blue sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up around his elbows. You, yourself, were having an awful time trying to keep from getting all kinds of flustered just looking at him.

The young profiler you remember was all wiry and clean cut, the man in front of you is more scraggly. His hair curls around his jawline and his forearms are far more attractive than anybody’s forearms ought to be.

His parents were just showing off, casually bringing a child into the world that looks like that.

“I don’t want things to be weird between us.” He blurted, surprising himself. You could tell by the way his brows dipped down and he took a step back immediately after saying it. Even his cheeks were a little pink.

“What happened between us was like seven years ago and all you did was tell me you had a crush on me. And then take it back. I just don’t want it to affect our work relationship because everyone already likes you a lot and I want to get the chance to like you as well.” For someone who always seems so very shy and awkward, his eyes look directly into yours, narrowing just a little. His tongue pokes out from between his lips and turns all of your bones to jelly underneath you.

He just ages like fine wine and you know that, should you be offered a permanent position at the BAU, that you would have to spend the rest of your working days keeping yourself in check while the man in front of you continued to evolve into a more gorgeous version of himself every year. The Spencer you remember had felt like peak Spencer, now this Spencer felt like peak Spencer, but who is to say that five years from now, when he decides to grow a little stubble and style his hair differently, that he wouldn’t somehow get even more attractive?

You open your mouth to come up with some bullshit answer that you didn’t really mean in order to smooth things over, when the door opens again. Spencer, standing directly infront of said door, looks not unlike a deer caught in the headlights of a truck barreling right at him going way too fast on a backroad.

Time crawls at an unusual pace, the door slowly creaking open and Laily’s voice filtering in the opening. Why did he have to wear that stupid vest? Surely the FBI has bullet proof vests you could wear under your clothing. The only idea you could come up with was, honestly, not a very good one. But it was the only one you had.

Practically launching yourself across the room, you catch Spencer’s lips against your own like the world depends on it. Using your own hands, you position Spencer’s arms around you with one hand on the back of your head and the other grabbing underneath your leg that hooks around his waist. The vest uncomfortably digs into your chest with how close your bodies are against one another, your arms now thrown around his neck, but if he keeps kissing you like this then you’ll be inclined to ignore it.

Just seconds ago he had been begging you to have a normal relationship despite your silly ‘past’ crush, now his tongue was fighting for dominance in your mouth. The irony was not lost on you.

“Oh.” Laily gasps a little when she sees you in such a compromising position. The lights from the bar illuminating every detail so that she could see the way Spencer’s fingers desperately tangled in the strands of your hair or how the muscles in his forearm strained as he hungrily pulled your body even closer than before.

The blush on your cheeks and neck are real when you pull your lips away, fire erupting in the pit of your stomach when Spencer catches your bottom lip in between his teeth for just a second. The look in his eyes is devilish when you tilt your head over your shoulder to meet her gaze.

“I’m sorry Laily, this is my boyfriend, Lance. I just- I heard about all those girls that have been going missing and I asked if he would drive me home.” The look in your coworkers eyes is all you need to know that this does not look like just a ride home. Although, it very well could have led to a ride somewhere if she had been just a handful of minutes slower.

“Nice to meet you, Lance. Gwen, I’ll see you tomorrow. Just,” the mischievous twinkle in her eyes does not go unnoticed by the two doctors in the room still tangled around each other, “maybe clock out before things get anymore heated.” She teases, the tone of her voice suggesting that you will be hearing more of this tomorrow.

“Bye, Laily!” The door clicks shut behind her, followed by the chuckles and giggles of Laily and the band as they leave for the night. You relax into Spencer’s arms, moving as if to pull out of them before they tense around you.

“We should be safe now.” You whisper, looking up into his eyes that burn with an intensity you’ve never seen in them before. That damn tongue sweeps across those perfect lips again, drawing your attention and reminding you that you now know what they feel like locked with yours.

“I think I hear somebody coming.” He whispers back, aware that you can both hear the soft bang of the front door closing and locking shut from the outside. Since the killings, the door was always locked if employees were still inside, as a safety precaution. Nobody else was coming in tonight unless they had a key.

Your lips meet his anyways, too tired to pretend that the heat between you wasn’t there. If this was the excuse he needed to kiss you, then you were all the more willing to give it to him. His tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips, causing them to open against his mouth and deepen the kiss.

Both of his wide hands splay against your hips, curling into the soft skin there and pulling you toward him with such force that you nearly trip. The hard edges of his Kevlar vest dig into your ribs and collarbone, the rough material scratching against your exposed skin as you push yourself up on your toes. When he breaks from the kiss, both of you gasping for air not from the length of it by from the passion, it is not to end your tryst.

His lips find the pulse at your neck, sucking a bruise at the soft skin there and pulling a moan from deep within your chest.

“Won’t- Won’t Morgan and Prentiss get worried,” your brain feels like the motherboard of a computer that Spencer has taken into his hands and slammed into a countertop, you can’t think when his teeth nip a love bite to the hickey he’s made on your neck, “if we, uhm, we take too long?”

If you thought the Spencer you met seven years ago was different from the Spencer you knew now, it was only because you’d never seen his bright hazel brown eyes darken with lust from beneath those impossibly long golden lashes. He was a completely different person as he unstrapped himself from the Kevlar, laying it on the floor with a solid thunk before gathering you back into his arms.

“They’ll be okay,” He said in between kisses trailed along your jawline. His movements are confident as he dips a hand down the front of your jeans and into your underwear. Your arms tighten around him, pulling your face into the crook of his neck when his fingers find the already wet entrance to your sex. His answering growl does nothing to keep you from coming undone as he presses the pad of his thumb to the bundle of nerves there. “I’m guessing it won’t be long before I have you in the palm of my hands, anyways.”

You rock your hips into him, your eyes fluttering shut with a gasp when he thrusts two long fingers inside of you. His other arm is wrapped around the center of your back, holding you to him because lord knows you can’t be trusted on your own two feet at a moment like this.

“Is this why you planned on ignoring me? Because you wouldn’t be able to handle it if I didn’t give you this?” You whimper a response, too focused on the relentless pace he has set with his fingers to come up with anything coherent. Everything about the moment is raw and animalistic, every fantasy you’d had about him during the fifty minute lecture did not even begin to touch on the feeling of his hand actually inside of you.

“Spencer, please.” You whined, dropping your arms from his shoulders and gripping onto his biceps like it will keep your soul from leaving your body. Yet, as heavenly as this felt, and as much as it exceeded your fantasies, you wanted more. Every part of you craved the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, sticky with sweat and feverish to the touch.

On a tight time constraint, Spencer doesn’t make you beg anymore than that. Instead, he delights in the way you cry out when he pulls his hand out of your pants and up to his lips. Your own lips part with a tiny popping sound when you watch him put those same fingers into his mouth with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Strip.” He commands, licking the taste of you off his lips and leisurely working at the knot of his tie. You don’t waste a second in crossing your arms over your body to pull the black material over your head and drop it at your feet. Next to come off is your shoes, clattering across the wooden floor when you kick them to the side.

By the time you make it to your pants, Spencer has only undone a quarter of the navy blue buttons on his shirt.

“I need you now, Spencer.” The buttons slip through your fingers, your hands shaking with excitement more than nerves. Although, the nerves are definitely apart of it. Never in a million years did you think you would be here; in the backroom of a bar in Nebraska, with Spencer Reid doing salacious things to you. While on your first case with the BAU, nontheless.

Doing a complete one-eighty, his hands come up to cover your own just before the last button comes undone. His touch is gentle and prompts you to look up into his coffee colored eyes. The light from the single bulb dangling from the ceiling is no good, and yet somehow he manages to look like a piece of artwork painted by the most skilled hand known to mankind.

“We don’t have to do this here. We don’t have to do this at all, if you don’t want to.” You squint your eyes up at him, using your fingernail to pop the last button through the hole on the other side of the shirt. When you let go, the pieces fall away from his chest like he’s caught in slow motion on a Calvin Klein commercial.

“I said I needed you now, not later.” In response, he scoops you into his arms and wraps your legs around his hips. The electricity that pops and crackles between you is nearly visible in the dimly lit room, the fabric of your bra skimming against his collarbone when you breath.

The little whines and whimpers that fall from your lips are driving Spencer crazy, forcing him to push through the door and lower you to a shorter countertop meant for making drinks. Tonight it would be used for other, more wicked things.

“Someone’s a bit excited.” You breathed. There was no way you could take a full breath in a moment like this. Everything was so heated and yet nothing was really happening.

“Shut the fuck up.” And then he was kissing you, his lips warm against your own. Despite the fact that you didn’t think it was possible, he pulled you closer. You knitted your fingers into his curls and gave them a slight tug. God, you loved these curls.

He began sucking a heated trail down your throat, quite possibly leaving a pathway of hickeys. You would be putting makeup over them for at least thirty minutes before you left your hotel room tomorrow, but for now they were heavenly fire against your skin.

Spencer took away his lips long enough to strip from his remaining clothes and throw them over his shoulder. When he stood in front of you looking like a Roman god, bared to no one but yourself, it made you feel like the luckiest person alive.

“I’m so in love with your body.” He groaned just before his lips found your breast, sucking on your nipple. Your head fell back and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You fumbled for a moment, patting around the countertop before your brain turned on long enough to get your hand between your legs and down to his naked erection.

He moaned into your breast as you began to move your hand. He let go of your boob and went straight back up to your mouth. His whole body was tensed up but his lips were soft as they parted against against your lips. The whole world felt like it was on fire, and his every touch was another lick of flames.

You move your hand faster, enjoying every groan and grunt and moan that finds it’s way out of his mouth and into yours. He’s already close to orgasm, you can tell by the way he breaks from the kiss, your foreheads pressed together and your breath stirring in the small space between your faces. His grip is tight when he grabs your wrist to make you stop.

“No.” Every nerve and thought and feeling was consumed by you and everything else short-circuited. Spencer couldn’t get the words out of his mouth to properly express what he wanted, it wasn’t often that the young genius was rendered speechless.

But you knew, you knew that he wanted to be inside of you. You knew that because you wanted him inside of you just as much, if not more, than he did. You shift your hips around on the counter, getting closer to the edge as you widen your legs.

“I’m on the pill.” You whisper, watching the sudden realization that he hadn’t come prepared widen his eyes for just a small fraction of a second. Just as quickly, the fear turns into that devlish grin you weren’t aware someone so beautifully shy and awkward could possess.

“Thank you, Pincus, Sanger, and McCormick.” You barely have time to question the comment, although later you’ll realize he’s probably talking about three of the minds behind the invention of the birth control pill. No longer taking his time, Spencer positions himself right at your entrance before running the tip of his cock along your wet folds.

“Fuck!” He slams into you, running his entire length into your body, hitting depths you didn’t even realize had never been touched until he was thrusting against them. It sends a wave of pleasure through every cell in your body as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him like you’re running out of oxygen.

He holds onto your hips as he repeatedly rams his hips into yours. He has buried his face into the crook of your neck, letting every curse and moan muffle into your skin. The glasses under the counter jangle with every merciless thrust inside you. The sharp bite of his nails digging into your hips makes you hiss, but it’s more from pleasure than pain.

There’s no dirty talking anymore. Every ounce of pretend you both go through while around one another is shed like seconds skins, leaving two people so hungry for each other that it had been too much to bare.

Your fingers are twisted around the short curls at the nape of his neck and your teeth are biting into the solid muscle at his shoulder. The bar always had whiffs of sex and sweat in the air that mixed with the smell of alcohol and perfume, but now it was the strongest scent in the room.

Even as your orgasm starts to build in your belly, you want more. You want to hold him so close that your brain wouldn’t be able to distinguish where you ended and he began. Letting go of his shoulder, your head lolls back and your own nails draw long lines of red down his neck.

“Spencer!” His name leaves your lips in a mix of a sob and a moan, the ecstasy of just his touch alone driving you higher and higher. The sting of his nails leave your hips, one hand reaching to the place where your connected and the other coming up to grip your jaw in his hand.

His thumb rubs against the little button of pleasure that causes your legs to start to tingle like they’ve been asleep for too long. All the while, he ruthless pace doesn’t falter. Sweat sticks a few of his curls to his temples, providing a beautiful glowing effect across the smooth planes and angles of his shoulders and collarbones.

He leans forward to catch your lips in a kiss that ends much too quickly for your taste, but you can feel the rapid exhalation of his breaths as it fans across your cheek.

“Come.” Usually a man of so many words, you had always assumed it would be the same in his sex life. Maybe it was true in most cases, but right now his desire to see you succumb to the pleasure of him inside of you outweighs the need to taunt and tease you with words.

Meeting his eyes, getting off on the smug look that twists his lips as much as you are getting off on his dick actually inside of you, you let yourself fall into the sweet release of your orgasm. Spencer doesn’t stop as you come around him, instead he quickens the pace as his own release works its way to the edge.

Your legs are still shaking when he buries himself into you with one final thrust, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth. He chases the sting of his teeth away with the softness of the kiss that follows, loosing himself in the aftershocks of your own orgasm.

Neither of you move, although he ends the kiss to gasp for air with your foreheads once again pressed against each other. His eyes are closed, the dark pink on his cheeks and neck making him look so much younger than he was. You keep your eyes open, trying to drink in every second and commit it to your memory the way it would forever be in his.

When he steps away, leaving you feeling much more empty than you’d felt in a really long time, the cocktail of your orgasms spill down the inside of your thighs. Suddenly feeling a bit self conscious, you slip off the counter with your arm wrapped around your bared breasts.

The air seems too cold, the bar too quiet, and your mind was too loud with insecurities as you tried to steady yourself on wobbly knees. Nevertheless, you attempt to make a beeline for the backroom door. If you go and put your clothes back on then maybe you could go back to pretending like he doesn’t exist and everything will be fine.

That is until one of those solidly handsome arms come out to stop you in your pursuit of denial.

He’s still naked, standing next to you like a statue carved by the hands of Michaelangelo himself. Although, you aren’t sure the renissance artist would sculpt nail marks into his skin, the signs of your heated escapade only darkening with time. You can only imagine what your own neck looks like, several spots of sensitive skin still overly stimulated from his wandering mouth.

From your vantage point, you can see his swollen lips open to say something, probably that this had been a mistake, when his phone rings from the pair of pants he’d so carelessly thrown to the floor earlier. A small frown mars his angelic features, the side of his mouth twitching with aggravation.

His lips on yours are a surprise you weren’t expecting, despite the sexual encounter you’d just had. This kiss speaks more words than he could ever possibly say, easing all the post-coital dysphoria that comes with the sudden fall from the high you’d been on. It’s gentle and warm, the hand on your arm squeezes reassuredly before he breaks away with one last peck to your forehead. It nearly tears your beating heart out of your chest.

“Come to my hotel room later.” And then he bends down to snag the phone from his pants with an aggravated growl, turning away from you as he lies through his teeth to a worried Prentiss on the other end.

In the backroom, having shimmied back into your pants and going to put your shirt back over your head, you fingers find your lips. They’re just a little swollen, exactly like his, but you wonder if he can still feel that final kiss against them the way that you could.

Oh boy, were you in trouble.

[wanna-do-bad-things]

On Purpose.

Summary: Henry has finished season one of The Witcher and his wife is in need of sex. Type: Smut. Detailed smut. Word count: 2589 Warnings: Frustration, coaxing, Henry using dirty talk, use of vibrator, restraints, unprotected sex, brief mention of creampie. A/N: So I’m pretty new here to this fandom and this is the first thing that I’ve written for him. If you read this, please give it a like/reblog and my ask is open if you’d like to drop me a message :) When I’m not writing reader insert, I write as an unnamed oc “she”. This was written as a request from someone on my Patreon but she asked that it was shared with tumblr. This was backed up by another friend who agreed it should be shared here, so I hope it’s enjoyed!.

The original request:  henry Cavill, he has wrapped up season one of witcher. His wife is super horny from watching season 1 and needs him to come home asap and fuck her asap. But mr henry comes home, eats, plays video games, teases her with showing his thighs. She is annoyed so goes up to room, later on he goes up, ties her up, rips her clothes and goes slow at first then picks up the speed and watches her body shake and she cums right on him. He stops her, getting naked and shoves his dick inside her and pounds her to oblivion smacking her ass Sorry for any mistakes in this.

_____

She’d been on the set for a lot of the scenes, watching as Henry worked his ass off to achieve the most realistic scenes he possibly could. She watched as he worked off set with the choreographers for the fight scenes, heard the way he shared his input for the way the weapons should look, feel and work. She’d felt her heart burst with pride as he held the attention of those within the room and felt her underwear soak as she watched him in action. 

She knew oh too well what he was capable of, had been manhandled by him on more than one occasion and watching as he moved with ease, the way his muscles flex beneath his skin and his expressions had her feeling weak. The cast and crew spent the final week going over everything and had a viewing of the full first series and all it had done for her was leave her even more sexually frustrated. 

He had a few more things that he needed to do before season one was fully wrapped up and had been out of the house for most of the morning and afternoon. All it had done, leaving her with her thoughts and images whirling in her mind, was increase her desire for him. By the time Henry comes home, she’s ready to jump him. 

“I’ve just got home, give me a few minutes yeah,” he kisses her on the tip of her nose and momentarily holds her against him. 

“But I-”

“I know. But give me time to wind down.”

“I could help with that.” She trails her hand down his chest, but he captures it before it gets too low. 

“Not that kind.” He gives her a small smile. “It’s been a long day already, I need to eat something – not you,” he adds quickly, “I need to eat, relax and shower. Maybe later?”

He moves out of her way, and though she understands his need and want for some downtime because of the strict schedule he’s had to adhere to, that doesn’t fix her craving for him. 

She gives it time, busies herself with a few other chores that she can think to do and also showers. Slipping on a robe with nothing underneath, she makes her way downstairs to where she finds him, sitting in his study with his game is open, a plate of finished food beside him and his attention completely on the screen before him. He sits with his headset on, a plain white V neck shirt and some cut off sweatpant shorts. The way he sits, his shorts ride up, exposing several inches of his thigh as he sits with his legs open. This was unfair. This was cruel. 

“How was your food?” She asks, stepping into the room and running her hands over his shoulders. Henry pushes one of his headphones out of the way so he can hear and briefly turns his head to acknowledge her. 

“Nice. Good. Just what I needed.”

“Got your fill?” She asks as she rounds his body and places her thighs on either side of his knee. She allows the robe to fall open, just enough to let him know, let him see just a brief hint of nipple as she sits herself down on. She’d played ever so briefly in the shower, not that she’d intended to but as she’d moved, spray from the shower had hit her body and couldn’t help but use her fingers. Her wetness slicks against his thigh and this gets his attention. 

“You’re something else today, do you know that.” He says after muting his mic. She grins and rocks her hips against him. It’s not the first time she’s rode his thigh and knows that Henry gets off on seeing her do this as much as she gets off on doing it, but she has no intention of reaching her orgasm this way. She leans in to him, wraps her lips around his earlobe and bites ever so gently, knowing it gets him hard when he begins to say, “let me ju-” he doesn’t have time to finish his sentence before she sighs, and climbs off him. “Hey wait. You didn’t let me finish.”

“Well I didn’t either. You play your game Henry and I’ll just go play.” 

Her frustrations are making her crabby, but it’s been weeks since he last touched her, and her sex drive is higher than normal. All she wants is a little attention from him, but she’ll have to make do with thinking of the things she wants him to do to her instead of actually feeling it. 

She makes her way back to the bedroom and kicks the door shut, feeling the walls shake with the force of it. That might have been a little harder than intended but oh well. She drops the robe half-way between the door and the bed and slips between the sheets, kicking them off as she fumbles about in the bedside drawer for her newest purchase from an online toy store. 

With two sides on the top, one for precision and one with a curved yet flat side, designed to cover the whole clit, not just the tip like on the other side, she fully intends to play. This gets her to orgasm within a minute, two tops and right now, that’s what she wants. With its five settings, starting off slow and the highest setting making her lose her vision, her speech to no longer sound and her muscles to tighten up to the point where she had a cramp in her leg a few days later. 

No sooner had she turned the dial to switch it on, Henry is opening the door, a smirk on his face and his cock straining against his shorts. “Nothing makes me harder than seeing my girl all frustrated, wanting me and acting a brat about it.”

“You did this on purpose.” Her eyes widen in surprise, her jaw clenches and she glares at him. 

“Do you know how hot you are when you’re angry? Annoyed? Sexually frustrated?” he asks as he moves towards her. “When all you want is to be touched, licked and fucked?”

“Hen-”

“No, you’re going to listen since you made such a big display down there.” He’s above her before she can stop him, straddling her waist as she would his and he knocks the toy from her hands. it buzzes to itself on the bedding before he turns it off. “You want to be adored? Admired? Loved and fucked all at once? Is that what my wife wants? To have that bratty attitude fucked out of her?” She tries to move under his weight but doesn’t get very far. “Poor baby, guess you’ll have to lay there and endure this.”

She glares up at him, hating the wetness that builds between her thighs at his words. He always knows how to get her worked up, talking down to her like this, making her feel needy for wanting him in the most primal way. The way he looks at her - so bored, so unamused, only turns her on even more. “Touch me.”

“You’re in no position to make demands. In fact, since you need it so badly, I’ll give you exactly what you desire. I’ll give it to you repeatedly. How about that?” She nods eagerly, forgetting that she’s supposed to be mad at him. She willingly offers her wrists, allows him to bound them and tie them above her head to the solid wood bed frame. It’s not until he’s reaching for the toy that he so happily discarded that she realises what she’s done. 

“Henry - no.”

“Going to stop me, are you?” She swallows hard when the buzzing starts, “tell me right now that you don’t want this.”

“I don’t want to be teased.” She specifies. 

“But you want this, on your clit while I eat your pussy? Or maybe just inside of you, only just, to give you a taste of what’s to come as I pleasure you with my mouth?” He’s not pressed the toy against her yet and her eyes flutter closed at the mere thought of what his mouth can and will do to her. “Tell me you want it or you get nothing.”

“I want it. Please, I need it.”

“Only because you said please.” 

He starts the vibrator off on the lowest setting, trailing over her nipples which harden instantly under the silicon. The smoothness of the texture glides over her skin, goosebumps appear in its wake as he slowly trails it down her stomach, over her thighs and teases over everywhere but her clit. He gets close to her exposed clit, her wet core and her ass but never close enough. 

“I said no teasing.”

“And I said I’d teach you a lesson. You won’t learn if you’re just getting your own way all the time.” he dips it between her folds, the vibrations has her eyes closing completely and her breath slowly comes out as a long hiss. With her slick now coating the tip, he trails it up her slit and applies the lightest of touches to her bead. her thighs shake instantly, the build up starting in the shower finally taking its toll and before he can pull it away, she reaches her first orgasm. 

“Disappointing.” He declares. “I thought you’d last longer.” He presses the flat side, the one that covers her whole clit and presses down as he speeds up the vibration setting. Her mouth opens, her eyes roll and her back arches as she tugs on her restraints. Her stomach muscles flex, her belly visibly contracting before him as her legs shake. She can’t speak, can’t cry out as the pleasure takes over her. She’s barely had time to recover from her last when another one builds even faster, wracking her body at such a pace that her head hurts from the blood rush. She knows she needs to breathe but all she can do is accept the euphoria which floods her system. 

Henry pulls the vibrator from her, stares down at the wet bedding, her cum splattered thighs and takes in the sight of his wife completely undone. “Sensitive today. Abstinence really suits you.” 

“Don’t.” she manages to croak out, trying to close her legs but he holds them apart, running his fingers over her soaked core. 

“Thought you needed me?” He asks, his cock straining against his shorts as he kneels before her. “You can either suck my cock or let me fuck you. The choice is yours which hole I use.” He makes quick work, his clothes almost ripping under the force in which he pulls them from him. She drinks him in, torn between wanting him in her mouth but knowing with the way he’s behaving right now, that he wouldn’t go easy on her. 

She opens her legs, her knees lifting as she does so, watching as he palms his cock, pre-cum dotting at the slit. She wants to lick it away, take him between her lips but she’s not ready for the throat fucking that he’d give her and so prepares herself as he begins to lean forward, sinks himself into her in one long motion. He pulls her knee up to his chest and begins to thrust. He watches as her breasts bounce, the way she closes her eyes tightly and bites down on her lip. Clenching his jaw, he turns her body while he’s still inside of her and slaps her ass, feeling the way her pussy clenches around him at the contact. 

“You wanted this, now look at me while I’m fucking you,” he demands, pulling all the way out to the tip before slamming back into her fully. He takes her hard and fast, not giving her a moment to consider anything other than the way he drives himself into her. He spanks her again, enjoying the tightness increase when he does so and the moan that escapes her lips. He’s half tempted to get the toy, apply it to her clit once more and watch her come undone around him but he wouldn’t be able to keep the pace if he was holding that in place too. He’d need her to do so and he’s not giving her hands access again, not until this is over. 

The moment she’d sat on his knee - no, even the few seconds before she’d done so, he’d known that she’d be wet and how horny she’d been all day. Part of him really had wanted to de-stress in his own way but the other part enjoyed watching her get riled up, become so frustrated that she’d snap on her own accord. He loved that she became a victim to her own plan, suffering at her own hands. He knew she’d come up and play, get the new toy she’d denied purchasing but he’d heard her playing, seen the hazy post-orgasm eyes and blushed cheeks. He’d bide his time until this moment, not realising how effective it would actually be but it was a stunning reaction and one he fully intends to do again.

His hips continue to snap to hers, the sound of her wetness and skin on skin fills the room. She tries to hold back her moans but she’s mostly unsuccessful. The more she tries to hold it back, the harder Henry fucks her. He lifts her leg, her foot now on his shoulder, the slight shift in her position alters the way in which he enters her. It feels tighter and so he feels, if possible, bigger, now hitting spots which hadn’t been as accessible as before, or if they had, they certainly hadn’t come alive like this. His fingers dig into her skin, his short nails manage to nip at her, marking it with soft crescent shapes. His vocals reach her ears, his soft moans, deep grunts when she feels perfect around him and his growls when she tightens her core at just the right time. Hearing him is arousing, fresh wetness builds as she hears it and she pleads with him to cum. He grips her harder, one hand on her ankle, the other on her waist as he buries himself within her time after time until he halts, his cock throbbing as he climaxes, spilling everything within her. 

“Is that what you wanted?” He asks when his breathing has calmed and she rests her legs on either side of his thighs. 

“Mmmmm,” she moans softly, “something like that.” He pulls out of her, pausing for a moment with both hands on her inner thighs, holding her legs open just long enough to see the first drops of cum seep from her. “what a mess you’ve caused.” she comments and he grins. 

“You’re lucky I’m not making you sample it.” He leans over her with ease, resting his weight into his knees as he unties her. As she strokes over her wrists, he places his hands on either side of her ribs and leans forward, pressing his lips against hers and giving her soft, gentle kisses, a stark contrast to the performance he’s just given. “Let’s get you in that shower.”

“Yeah?”

“And then I’ll cook us something to eat, share that bottle of wine that’s been calling to us recently to celebrate the completion of season one and maybe…” he runs a hand up her thigh once more. “Have part two.”

[brilliantbecca94]

Good

a/n: This is my first time posting anything on tumblr, so if formatting is weird, I’m really sorry and if anyone would like to help me make it not weird that would be really appreciated. Smut is (hopefully) under the cut (if I did the Keep Reading thing right).

This is a minor, side piece to a longer chaptered work that I’ve been outlining. So if you’re interested in it and it intrigues you enough that you’d like to read the chaptered work, let me know and I might actually write it. That being said, this isn’t Reader Insert or Y/N, it’s an OC character I’m developing. Although reading this should be easy enough to substitute the character’s name with Y/N.

warnings: This is smut, so please don’t read if that’s something that makes you uncomfortable. Key points are oral (f receiving) and then sex. Also involves praise kink (to the best of my ability currently since this is my first endevor in it) and a brief mention of daddy kink. There’s also implications of mental illness (bi-polar disorder) though it is not explicitly named.

If you feel like i’ve missed mentioning something, let me know and I’ll add it.

word count: 2,487 (according to Word)

Summary: JJ discovers that his girlfriend has a praise kink and they have a really good time with it.

Tessa whined softly. Her head tossed back against the downy pillow cushioning her, her bottom lip caught between her teeth in a desperate attempt to stifle any sounds that may escape. The last thing she needed was her brother barging into her room and catching her with JJ Maybank of all people.

Especially while in the rather promiscuous position they currently found themselves.

Quieting herself was proving to be a difficult task though. No matter how hard she bit into her lip, or how deeply she buried her face into her pillow, JJ’s talents were too much to fight.

He was exceptional with his tongue and each deliberately casual lick he swiped across her heated core sent a shiver of pleasure up Tessa’s spine, forcing another quickly smothered mewl out of her.

A knot was forming in her belly, rapidly tightening in tandem with JJ’s thrusting fingers. His rings had long since warmed to match the temperature of her skin, but that didn’t make it any less exhilarating as they scraped against her entrance.

 “Jay…” Tessa whimpered, her own fingers curling through his soft blonde hair.

Simultaneously, her hands worked to push him away and hold him closer. Her peak was becoming almost too much for her to bear, but JJ wasn’t one to let her go unsatisfied.

He paused for a moment, tipping his head up in answer to her whine, offering Tessa a small respite. He looked up her body to her face, an arrogant smirk curling his lips. He drank in her wanton appearance, watched her breasts rise and fall with each heaving breath as she tried to take advantage and regain control of herself. Her sun-bleached hair fanned out around her, a wild halo of tangled blonde locks.

His smirk widened into a cat-like grin, enjoying the desperate little hums she gave. Her hips wiggled gently, urging him to continue. He stroked his thumb over her clit, relishing the delicate flinch of her oversensitive frame.

“Feel good, baby?” His voice was a husky whisper that sent a tingle of electricity through the knot in her abdomen.

She nodded frantically, turning her head from the pillow’s depths to look up at him with wide, pleading hazel eyes. Her hips jerked again, this time managing to slide down on his fingers.

The sudden fullness overwhelmed her. Her teeth buried harder into her lower lip, barely managing to catch the heavy gasp that slipped out.

“Don’t worry, baby,” JJ cooed, lowering his mouth to tickle her clit with the tip of his tongue. “I’ve got ya.”

His purr sent vibrations through her. His fingers crooked inside of her, the rough pads of his fingers scraping against the fluttering walls of her core. He kept his thrusts gentle, bordering on lazy, as he suckled at her vulnerable bud.

He was searching for something within her, that magical spot that would have her falling apart around him with a few deliberate touches.

He knew the moment he’d found it by the high keening squeal Tessa let slip without care and focused his efforts on abusing it in the most gratifying way.

While Tessa had a constant fear that her brother would walk in on them, if they weren’t careful, JJ had zero cares where Topper was concerned.

Though he hadn’t spoken the thought aloud to Tess, the boisterous blonde occasionally wished that the entitled, asshat Kook would find them together. He wanted to see Topper’s face when the prick saw his sweet little sister with a Pogue between her perfectly tanned thighs.

“JJ, please…” Tessa begged, her hips shifting restlessly, hopelessly, trying to encourage him to speed up and force her off the precipice she was precariously balanced on into bliss.

JJ chuckled against her, sending another wave of vibration through Tessa. The knot spasmed, her hips jerking against the constant stimulation. Her thighs tried to close around him, an unconscious attempt to cease the onslaught of pleasure he was raining on her. JJ was quick to catch one leg with his free hand, forcing it back against the warm teal sheets.

He could feel the muscles under her soft skin quivering beneath his palm and it drove him on, knowing she was so close to the edge and he was the one to bring her there.

“Come on, Tess,” he urged, tilting his head to kiss the unbound thigh. “Such a good girl, Tessa. Cum for me.”

Tessa felt the knot in her abdomen tighten exponentially, a jolt of electricity ripping through her accompanied by a gush of slick that JJ happily lapped up.

Her body was a mess of twitching shivers, for a moment she saw stars. The world went silent as JJ rode her through her orgasm.

When she finally came down, JJ was hovering over her, pressing soothing kisses to her neck and face.

As her vision cleared from its pleasurable haze, Tessa met his gaze. His blue eyes were dark, his smirk cocky and Tess couldn’t imagine anything more attractive in this moment. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hands slipping into his hair to hold him against her as he nipped and sucked at the tender spots of her throat.

Her body was still tingling in the aftermath of incredible bliss, her core throbbed, aching to be filled again.

She’d never felt like this before.

JJ had always brought her to orgasm, usually multiple times, but she’d never had one so strong before. She’d never been left reeling like she was now.

Trying to push through the fog lingering in her brain and the distraction of JJ’s lips against her skin, Tessa recalled the moments before her orgasmic out-of-body experience.

“Such a good girl…”

Tessa’s eyes shot open, her arms wrapping tighter around JJ. She shot up against him, pressing them flush together. His words were on repeat in her mind.

JJ fell back in reaction to her sudden impact but grinned up at her as she straddled him, his hands resting against her hips. She ground against him, fingers carding through his hair and lips crashing against his desperately.

Good girl, good girl, good girl

A thick moan ripped its way from her throat and this time there was no attempt to stifle herself. JJ groaned with her, hips rutting up against Tessa.

Her hand shot between them, slipping into his board shorts to stroke his hard cock. He moaned again, head falling back in surprise and pleasure.

When she tried to free him completely from his nylon prison, he gripped her hips a little harder, pulling back slightly to look her over.

“Baby-”

“Say it again,” Tessa interrupted, leaning in to kiss along his neck. “Please, JJ, say it again?”

Her voice was breathy and desperate, JJ had never heard her sound like that before. Even in the throes of bliss. It made his cock throb and ache, but he tried to push his lust down and focus on her request.

“Babe,” he choked, brain short circuiting as her teeth nipped against his pulse. “Tessa,” he tried again, a little stronger. He grabbed up her wrists, tugging her hands from him and pushing her back just enough to force her to meet his gaze.

Her pupils were blown wide, the normal hazel almost completely concealed by black. She looked a little manic and he wondered if she was having an episode. He tried to wrack his brain for other signs he may have missed throughout the day but couldn’t recall any. He’d even seen her take the little white pill this morning, before they took out the Pogue.

“Tess, baby, you good?” he questioned softly, keeping their gazes locked.

“I just…I…” she stuttered, before deciding to just ignore speaking and try rocking her hips against his again.

JJ grabbed her hip with one hand, keeping her wrists locked in the other, stilling her so she would focus.

“Talk to me,” he demanded. His nerves were starting to grate, the uncertainty of the situation creeping through him, expelling the lust he’d felt moments ago.

“I’m…you said I was good…I want to be good, J.”

His hedging anxiety dissipated in an instant, soothed that her mania was induced by pleasure and not anything more serious.

Using his grip on her wrist, JJ tugged her closer, pressing their lips together fiercely. He moved the kisses across her cheek, to her jaw, until his mouth rested at her ear.

“You wanna be a good girl for me, Tess?” he purred, reveling in the shudder that wracked her body and the deep, heated flush that colored her cheeks all the way down to the tops of her breasts.

“Yes,” Tessa breathed, tilting her head back to give him more access.

“My good girl,” he praised, laying her back into the pillows. Her arms returned to their position around him, fingers brushing through his soft blonde locks until they were mussed and standing on end.

JJ didn’t care as he delved down, kissing and nipping along the column of her throat, over her collarbone, to settle at her breasts.

“Legs up, baby,” he crooned, smirking against the velvety skin of her breast when she obeyed without hesitation. Her ankles crossed against his back, heels resting at the base of his spine.

He was quick to slide his board shorts down, only removing them enough to free his cock.

Tessa whimpered as he filled her, inch by inch until he was fully seated within her. Her fingers clutched at him, her hips rolling up to meet his.

He kept a slow pace, his cock dragging against the warm cavern that clutched him desperately.

Carefully, he pulled first one hand and then the other from his hair, lacing their fingers together against the teal sheets. His face hovered over hers, their breath mingling, and gazes locked.

There was something about the constant eye contact as he moved within her that drove her closer to the edge faster than she thought possible.

She whined, breathily. Her body moved with his, keeping pace with every deep thrust he landed within her. The tip of his cock brushed against the splendid spot, once, twice. Over and over again. Tessa gasped, eyes fluttering closed and head tilting back as ecstasy washed over her.

“No, no, baby,” he admonished with a husky chuckle. “Good girls keep their eyes open.”

She blinked rapidly, focusing her gaze on his again. She sighed, mewling and rocking against him.

“So good for me.”

Another mewl and it took a great deal of effort to continue obeying him as the knot in her abdomen began to rebuild.

She fought the urge to close her eyes though. She was good, she’d listen. If she listened, he’d stay and keep telling her she was good.

JJ felt Tessa’s walls start to flutter around him, gripping tighter. Her fingers squeezed his, her lower lip coming back to rest between her teeth as her whines started to rise in pitch.

He leaned in, closing the last few millimeters between them to capture her lip for himself.

“You close pretty girl?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

She nodded, leaning up to kiss him again. JJ swallowed her whimpers and moans, moving a little harder against her. His cock brushing relentlessly against the bliss inducing spot.

“Cum for me, good girl,” JJ commanded, forcing himself deeper inside her.

Tessa cried out, falling apart around him.

He joined her, dropping his face into her neck to bite the tender flesh of her shoulder, muffling his own sounds of pleasure as her body milked him.

As they returned to themselves, panting heavily and hearts still pumping rapidly, JJ rolled to the side, dragging Tessa with him until she rested curled around him.

She nuzzled happily into him, content to drift in post-coital bliss while he worked on pulling her comforter around them before laying back with her.

He watched her fade into unconsciousness, fingers twitching for the joint he had tucked in his bag. Tess didn’t like him smoking in her room though, her mom and brother asked too many questions and she wasn’t willing to let Topper in on the secret of her Pogue boyfriend just yet.

Instead, he distracted himself by toying with her hair. The soft blonde locks were tangled and mussed, but he was able to find sections that allowed him to sift his fingers through without disturbing her.

He was curious about this new kink they’d discovered. She’d never mentioned it before but based on the way she’d hesitated in telling him what she wanted, he would bet she hadn’t known about it before today. Not really anyway.

She’d told him about her dad, who’d split a couple years ago to move to the mainland with some secretary or intern or something. Tess had said she’d been close to him, before he’d divorced her mom and moved out with the twenty-some year old.

His gaze drifted across the room to the windowsill and the picture frames perched strategically there, focusing on the one in the middle.

The plain black frame was easy to miss, especially if you weren’t looking for it, surrounded by ones that were much larger and more decorative, but he’d seen it before. Inspected and even been a little jealous of it before he found out the story behind her dad’s departure.

The man in the picture didn’t really look like a Kook, with the black snap back and Dollar Store sunglasses, but that wasn’t what really interested JJ anymore. It was the little blonde girl, balanced precariously on a surfboard that was twice her size, while the non-Kook looking man carried it (and the girl) through the water.

It had been Tessa’s first time ever surfing, her dad had taken her out without her mom knowing. Tessa was maybe six in the picture. She didn’t remember much of the day when she tried to recount it, but it didn’t matter because it was one of her favorite memories anyway.

His gaze dropped to the bottom of the frame, tracing the silver letters in his mind.

Daddy’s Girl.

He glanced back down at Tess and smirked.

His Kook Princess had daddy issues, he’d stake all of his meager possessions (and John B.’s) on it.

He settled back into the orange and blue pillows, one arm behind his head while the other wrapped around Tessa’s thin frame, tugging her closer. His eyes drifted shut, ready to fall into the oblivion of sleep and take advantage of his girl’s luxury bed in place of John B.’s pull out sofa.

As sleep began to pull him under, a thought crossed his mind. Brief as it was, it still brought a confident smirk to his lips and he decided his next goal was to get Tessa to call him daddy at some point.

And wouldn’t that be just the perfect time for Topper to walk in on them?

[bush-viper-cutie]

“Hagrid and Buckbeak” || YEAR 3 – Ch.21 (HP au)

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Day posted: 9/18/2020

Word count: 3,147

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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Heather opened her eyes slowly and turned her head. Everyone was still in their beds, which meant she was up extremely early. She sat up and sighed, remembering what she’d heard yesterday. She dug around her trunk for her sweater and her skirt and went to take a long shower.

As she absentmindedly scrubbed her arms with one of the spongey things she’d bought over the summer from ‘Bath Bubbles and Scaley Scrubbers’, she thought of Harry, and what he was probably feeling, being the one who cared more deeply when it had to do with their parents. He was probably angry… maybe feeling hurt for them. He’d want to talk to her about it, wouldn’t he?

She didn’t really want to talk about a murderer who betrayed his best friend, or about anything really. She felt numb and detached from the world… she felt like a simple dust clump come to life whose had all these troubles thrust upon her unfairly… but Harry was all the family she had and if he wanted to talk… she’d listen.

She toweled down and got dressed. She headed for her room to see everyone still asleep and took out her herbology and art book, ready to do some studying and plant drawings. For several more hours she sat alone until the time to leave Hogwarts for the holiday break snuck up and before she knew it, the common room was alive with excited chatter about going home to mansions and rich parents.

Pansy made sure to tell everyone what she thought she was getting – something about a topaz encrusted dragon’s eye that’s supposed to help her pick out real gold from jewelry shops – and about how she couldn’t wait to see her famous explorer uncle, who had most recently ventured into the arctic and discovered the feather of a previously confirmed extinct bird. Every year, one way or another, Pansy would mention some new famous relative to connect to her already famous family.

The chatter died down as everyone left together and she was left alone. She wasn’t sure how many Slytherins had decided to stay behind, but she was sure well over half of them had left, if not all. No pureblood would be caught dead staying behind like ‘those muggle borns’ as she’d heard a seventh year say – except they didn’t use the word ‘muggle born’.

She sat by the fire studying, moving on to potions as she always liked to finish with that, and after an hour she heard a knock at the common room door. She got up and opened it to find Ron and Hermione standing looking apprehensive about something.

“Hey… Do you want to come in?” She swung the door open further but Ron shook his head.

“No way. I never want to go in there again.”

“Heather we’ve been practicing all morning and – well Harry’s still asleep and we’re worried.”

She nodded and told them to hold a moment while she put all her things away in her room. She stepped out and walked with them back to their tower, talking the whole way.

“How are you feeling after yesterday?” Hermione glanced at her, clearly not wanting to seem too worried and failing.

“I’m fine. What were you saying about Harry?”

“We were thinking of making sure he wasn’t going to go and do anything stupid.” Hermione lowered her voice, “Like sneak out and try to capture Black himself.”

“He sounded real mad last night in his sleep, mumbling angrily.” Ron whispered the password and the portrait swung open. “At least I think he was asleep. He kept turning and fixing the blankets. I got so tired watching him I fell asleep.”

Heather looked around at all the red everywhere and gold-framed portraits of lions and sat down facing the window, glad to add any other color to her vision. Ron moved his game of chess and offered Heather the first game.

“When he gets up, we can tell him how awful the idea of going after him is. And if we’re all in agreement, maybe he’d see we’re right,” Hermione looked at her again. “We ARE all in agreement, aren’t we?”

Heather rolled her eyes. “Of course we are. It’s the Ministry’s job to get him, not ours – Wait can I move this here? – And besides, the last thing I want is to get involved with anything to do with You-Know-Who and his followers. We’ve dealt with him enough.”

“Even if Black betrayed your parents?” Ron gave her a different sort of look.

“Ron,” Hermione hissed. “What is your goal here?”

He frowned, “Nothing I just – I kind of get where Harry’s coming from… But I don’t really get where – ”

Heather picked up her fallen queen and shifted the board towards Hermione. “Look. He betrayed my parents. Not me. His business should be with them, not me and Harry. We’re not our parents.”

Ron pressed on. “But aren’t you mad FOR them?” Hermione pinched his arm. “Ow!”

At that moment the boy’s dormitory door creaked and they all stood up, waiting for Harry to come down the stairs. He looked around and rubbed his eyes, pushing his glasses up with his knuckles. “Where’s everyone?”

Heather laughed, “Gone home. Did you forget what day it was?”

“Yesterday was end of term! It’s first day of holidays today!” Ron jumped up and opened his arms, motioning to the empty room. “It’s all ours now.”

Hermione stepped forward and looked Harry up and down. “How’d you sleep? You look… tired.”

Harry frowned. “Fine.”

Hermione nodded and looked around at them. “Harry, we wanted to say – We know you must be very upset about what we heard. But I think it would be very foolish to want to go do something about it.”

Harry crossed his arms. “Do what?”

“Go after Black yourself,” said Ron, trying to stand like Hermione was, with his chin held slightly higher.

Heather looked away and sat down, letting them handle it.

“Just tell us you won’t. Please?”

Ron dropped his posture, looking very genuine. “He’s not worth dying for.”

Out of the corner of her eyes she noticed Harry’s face turn towards her. “Every time a dementor gets near me, I hear my Mum scream and plead Voldemort not to kill us.”

Heather closed her eyes and looked away. Something tugged at her heart. She tried to push out the image of her mom begging for their lives. She must have loved them a lot, as much as she loved Harry, to be begging You-Know-Who. She shook her head and opened her eyes. Harry’s attention was back on Ron and Hermione.

“Imagine it was your mothers. Screaming like that. A-and their friend who sent Voldemort after them was out there, free – ”

“So what would you do that the dementors couldn’t do?” Heather stood up and crossed her arms. “Why not leave it to the Ministry! It’s their problem, not yours.”

Harry stepped forward. “Fudge said Black wasn’t effected by dementors. Azkaban isn’t any real punishment for him!”

Ron tensed up. “You’re not saying – You don’t want to kill Black, do you?”

Hermione quickly cut in, “Oh of course not! Harry doesn’t want to – to kill anyone, right?”

Harry didn’t respond. Heather frowned and felt her anxiety rise again. She shifted her weight, hoping she didn’t have to start worrying about Harry really actually doing something foolish. She thought he’d just be upset, angry, not – vengeful. Would he really go after Black?

He looked at Heather. “Malfoy knows, remember? In potions he said – ”

“Who cares what Malfoy said?”

“Are you really suggesting taking Malfoy’s advice instead of ours?” Ron looked offended. “Malfoy’s? He WANTS you to go chase after Black! He must know what happened to Peter Pettigrew – You know what Pettigrew’s mum got? His order of Merlin, First Class, and his finger.”

Harry was clearly not listening, shaking his head at the abandoned game of chess. “His dad must have told him. He was in Voldemort’s inner circle – he could have been friends with Black – !”

Hermione started sobbing. “Harry! You mustn’t go looking for him! Black wants you to go looking for him so he can kill you! Don’t give him what he wants. Your mum and dad wouldn’t want you to go putting yourself in danger for them!”

“I’ll never know that, will I? Because of him.”

Heather shook her head, “Except you do, don’t you? You said you hear our Mother pleading for our lives. So you know she’d want us safe – and alive.”

Everyone stayed silent as Heather’s words settled in Harry’s head.

Ron swallowed. “Let’s head down to Hagrid’s. It’s nearly Christmas and we haven’t gone down to see him in ages!”

Heather nodded desperately, needing fresh air and any distraction at all.

“No!” Hermione shook her head furiously. “They can’t leave the castle! They’re supposed to – ”

“Yes! Let’s go.” Harry turned back around and headed up the stairs. He stopped at the landing and looked down at them, “I think I’d like to know why Hagrid never told us all this.”

Heather smacked her hand to her face.

Ron looked around quickly. “Or we could play more chess! I’ve already beaten Heather and Hermione! I’m undefeated so far – Or actually we could play Gobstones! Percy told me he left a set in his room – ”

“No. We’re visiting Hagrid.” Harry turned away from them and walked into the boy’s dorm, slamming the door shut.

Hermione wiped her face. “Well that went horribly.”

They got their cloaks and Ron managed to find an extra one from the lost and found for her so they wouldn’t have to go into the dungeons for her to fetch hers. They left the tower and headed down and out of Hogwarts towards Hagrid’s hut, wading through the snow as they walked.

The four of them walked in a line down the lawn, led by a very determined Harry. They made a deep trench in the powdery, glittering snow that went up to their knees. The blizzard had stopped and the whole world looked as still as a muggle painting. The forbidden forest sparkled white and Hagrid’s tiny hut looked absolutely cozy among all the snow.

They stomped up the steps, trying to shake off the frozen snow stuck to their cloaks and socks, and waited as Harry knocked. There was no answer. Unlike Professor Snape, Hagrid normally answered as immediately as possible, happy to greet whoever visited. They pressed their ears to the door and heard Fang whining, along with another weird sort of noise.

They pulled back and looked at each other.

Harry frowned and started knocking on the door as hard as he could. “Hagrid! Are you in there? Hagrid?” Harry paused his knocks long enough to listen.

Heavy footsteps approached and then the door slowly creaked open. Hagrid looked down at them with red swollen eyes and a pink nose. Tears dripped off his nose like a leaky faucet, splashing onto his damp beard.

“Yeh’ve heard!” He opened the door further and pulled Harry and Hermione in for hugs.

Ron and Heather looked at each other and shrugged quickly before Hagrid ended the hug. Harry looked back at them bewildered and before he could open his mouth, Ron and Hermione led Hagrid into one of his chairs. Harry and Heather walked in and shut the door as Hagrid slumped over the table and continued sobbing.

Harry looked down at the table and slid an envelope towards them. “Is this – ?”

Hagrid nodded and pulled out the letter, handing it back to Harry. “Read that.”

Harry handed the letter to Heather and she cleared her throat. “‘Dear Mr. Hagrid, Further to our inquiry into the attack by a hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibilities for the regrettable incident. – ’”

“That’s great news!” Ron clapped Hagrid on the back.

Heather cleared her throat again. “‘However, – ’”

Ron’s smile shrunk and he pulled his hand back.

“‘We must register our concern about the hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the complaint of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and this matter will therefore be handed off to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place April twentieth, and we ask you to present yourself and the hippogriff in question at the Committee’s office in London on the previously mentioned date. In the meantime, safety measures should be taken for the safety of other wizards and witches. The hippogriff should be tethered and isolated from the public and the other hippogriffs in your care. Yours in fellowship . . . ’” Heather scanned the list of governors and handed back the letter.

“Well,” Ron bit his lip. “You said Buckbeak wasn’t a bad hippogriff so surely when they see him they’ll see that.”

Hagrid lifted his forehead off the table and shook his head before thumping it back down. “Yeh don’t know them Committee fer the Desposal o’ Dangerous Creatures. They wouldn’t know innocent an’ friendly if they stepped in it.”

There was a loud huff and the four of them turned around quickly. Buckbeak was sitting on Hagrid’s rug by the fire, tearing into something raw and bloody with Fang resting under his wing. He rubbed at his beak with his talons and cooed at them.

Heather sighed. Normally Hagrid always confused dangerous for cute and cuddly, but this time she was afraid he was right. Buckbeak looked no more a threat than Fang did, both lying there, enjoying the warmth of the fire and each other.

Hermione sat down on a chair opposite Hagrid and placed her hands flat on the table. “You’ll need a good defense, Hagrid. You’ll need to prove Buckbeak’s innocence with character witnesses – in person is better but I’m sure they’ll accept letters – ”

“Are you a lawyer now too?” Heather tried not to smile.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“That won’t matter!” Hagrid sighed into the rough wood of the table. “Lucius Malfoy has them all in his pockets. If I lose the case, then Buckbeak’ll…” He sobbed and sat up, cheeks glazed with fresh tears, and slid his finger over his throat. He sobbed again and fell back onto the table, wailing painfully at the thought.

“W-what about Dumbledore? Can’t he – ?”

Hagrid shook his head. “He’s done so much fer me already. I can’t ask him fer more. He’s got keepin’ those dementors out of the castle – and Black still lurkin’ about.”

Harry sighed, looking very troubled but understanding. He put a hand on Hagrid’s large arm and squeezed tight. “Don’t give up Hagrid. Hermione’s right about building up your defense. In fact – we’ll be your witnesses!”

Hermione nodded. “I’m sure there are plenty of cases to look at that could help us too!”

Heather put a finger to her chin. “Are there wizard libraries outside of Hogwarts? Maybe we could ask Madam Pince to have them send – actually, asking Madam Pince anything sound like a horrible time – but we’ll do it for you Hagrid, if it helps Buckbeak!”

Hagrid howled loudly and they all looked at each other, unsure of what more to say.

Ron picked up a kettle. “Do you want tea?” He looked at them and shrugged. “Mum always makes tea when someone’s crying.” Ron filled it with water and hung it over the fire, careful not to disturb Buckbeak, and soon the water was steaming.

Within minutes Hagrid had a fresh cup of tea and a box of tissues by his side, placed down by Hermione.

Hagrid blew his nose into a handkerchief the size of a towel and dried his tears. “Yeh’re all right. I gotta pull meself together… Too much to do to let meself go ter pieces.”

Fang got up from cuddling Buckbeak and placed his chin on Hagrid’s lap.

“Needa get back ter being meself. I got more responsibilities now – even if no one’s likin’ me classes – ”

“We like your classes,” Hermione bit her lip.

“They’re really… interesting,” Ron nodded slowly.

“How’re the flobberworms?” Heather remembered reading about them being picky about cold temperatures.

“Dead,” Hagrid said glumly.

The corners of Ron’s mouth were twitching. “Because of the snow?”

Hagrid shook his head and slurped more of the tea. “Too much lettuce. An’ on top of e’rything else – those ruddy dementors! Gotta walk past ‘em every time I want to get meself a drink from the Three Broomsticks. Almost like being back at Azkaban – ” He finished his tea.

They were all quiet.

Heather tapped on the table with her finger. “Is… it awful there?”

Hagrid looked into his empty teacup. “Yeh’ve no idea. Bein’ ‘round ‘em dementors makes all yer worst memories come back, playing like pictures, over an’ over in yer mind. I thought I was goin’ mad in there. Every time I slept I hoped I wouldn’t wake up again. After a few days yeh can’t remember who yeh really are. No point in livin’ after that…” He sighed and looked at them, shaking his head. “When they let me out it felt like bein’ born again. Was the best feeling in the word, getting’ all me happiness again, all at once… Course the dementors weren’t happy to let me go.”

He stared behind them at Buckbeak. “Thought ‘bout jus’ lettin’ Buckbeak go… Lettin’ ‘im fly free – but how can I explain to ‘im he can’t be seen around here? He’s a hippogriff. He’d want to come back an’ see his friends an’ get fed.” He sniffed. “An’ I don’t want to break the law an’ get sent back ter Azkaban.”

They were all quiet after that, and this time none of them broke the silence. Eventually Hagrid stood up and saw them to the door, thanking them each for being there for him and wanting to help out. He closed the door slowly and left them standing on his small snowy porch.

They all looked at each other and nodded, silently agreeing to head to the library and begin their search for anything and everything that could help their friend. They trotted back up the snowy slopes quickly and jumped up the stairs, careful not to slip and fall. The last thing they wanted was to get yelled at by Mr. Filch about all the snow they were tracking in.

They headed into the library and very slowly, Heather felt a smile pull on her lips. As sad as it was to see Hagrid in such distress, she was glad for the distraction. Not one of them brought up Black again, and everyone was nose-deep in books about hippogriffs and the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. She felt at ease and put all her focus on Buckbeak’s case for the rest of the day.

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[bitter-sweet-farmgirl]

Everything We Didn’t Know

Niall starts to think about his future with Hannah after going on his first date with her.

Based off the song ‘Black and White’ by Niall Horan.

MASTERLIST

OC Used:  Hannah

Word Count:  2,371

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That first night we were standing at your door

Fumbling for your keys, then I kissed you

Clear, happy laughter surrounded me as Hannah and I walked together up the sidewalk to her house.  She smiled over at me through her laughter, hazel eyes glittering in the light of the pale full moon that bathed us in its pearly rays.

Reaching Hannah's door, we paused on her doorstep as she fumbled with her keys.  As I gazed upon her radiant features, words formed but got tangled up before I could even speak them.

Hannah finally sorted out her keys and inserted one into her lock.  But before she could turn it, my hand was on hers, stopping her from doing so.

"Niall?"  Hannah asked in a soft, confused voice as she looked over at me through the curtain of her brunette hair.  

Quickly, before I lost my newfound courage, I leaned in and kissed her.  Nothing over the top, just a swift press of my lips to her ruby ones.  

Ask me if I want to come inside

'Cause we didn't want to end the night

Then you took my hand, and I followed you

As I drew back, Hannah let out a breathy laugh, a shy smile pulled at the corner of her mouth as she avoided my gaze, unlocking her door.  "Um, do you want to come inside for a while before you head home?"  She asked quietly.

I nodded, fumbling over my words.  How was it that I could speak eloquently in front of thousands of people, but when I was with Hannah, I couldn't string two words together.  "Y-Yeah.  Sure."  I stuttered, making Hannah smother a laugh behind her hand.  

I wasn't ready for this night to end quite yet.  It had been the best of my entire life, this first date with a girl I called my best friend, yet loved like she was meant to be mine.

Hannah slipped her hand into mine, interlacing our fingers together and squeezing gently before walking through the door, me following behind.

Yeah, I see us in black and white

Crystal clear on a star lit night

In all your gorgeous colours

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

See you standing in your dress

Swear in front of all our friends

There'll never be another

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

Hannah left me to find my own way through her house that I knew like my own from all the times I had been here.  As she went to the kitchen to grab us a drink, I strolled down the wooden floor of the hallway to the living room.

There was a small, yet comfortable leather sofa on one wall, with a pair of armchairs opposite it.  On the third wall, there was a dark fireplace waiting for a fire to be coaxed to life within its hearth.  A mantel sat above this, decorated with picture frames holding snapshots of Hannah's life; her memories.

Walking closer, I noticed a new photo had been added to the cluster.  Unlike the others, it was in black and white, which made me curious.  Picking it up and looking closer, I took in a quick breath as I recognized the moment framed within.

It was of Hannah and I lying out in a meadow on her Aunt's farm, looking up at the stars twinkling in the night sky.  Her younger brother Daniel had taken this photo without us being aware of his presence.

Although, Hannah might have known he was there.  That night I had been blind to anything other than the beautiful woman sitting beside me in the cool meadow grass, pointing out all the different constellations and trying to catch fireflies as they flitted about.  

Replacing the frame to its spot on the mantel, I closed my eyes and took a silent oath to love Hannah for the rest of her life.  That was the least she deserved.  

Opening my eyes, I took one more look at the photo.  As I did, a sudden vision flashed through my mind.  

Hannah was standing across from me, dressed in a gorgeous white gown.  Her hands were held within mine as I stared into her stunning hazel eyes.  We had an audience of all our friends and family, watching as we swore to love only each other as long we lived.  

Taking a deep breath, I blinked away the tears forming in my blue eyes, gazing into Hannah's smiling face.  "I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life."

Now, we're sitting here in your living room

Telling stories while we share a drink or two

And there's a vision I've been holding in my mind

We're 65 and you ask "When did I first know?" I always knew

The vision was suddenly broken as Hannah walked into the room, holding two mugs that contained a steaming, amber liquid.  "Sorry I took so long, I thought tea would taste good."  She said apologetically, offering me one of the mugs.  

I took it, breathing in the steam and smiling at her.  "No worries, Hannah.  It smells good.  What is it?"  I asked, before taking a slow sip of the piping hot liquid, grimacing as it burned my tongue.  

Hannah giggled at my expression, cradling her mug between her hands.  "Earl Grey.  Do you like that?"  She asked, and I nodded.  

"Absolutely.  I'm good with any tea, Love."  I said, taking a seat in one of the armchairs, watching as Hannah settled herself in the other, closing her eyes as she took in a deep breath of the steam rising from her white mug with the pink band at the top.  

Then she opened her hazel eyes and her gaze flickered over to look into mine.  A little smile decorated her gorgeous face, and if I hadn't already known that I loved her, I would have said that this moment showed me that.

Instantly, I saw us forty years in the future, sitting together on a porch somewhere, watching the sun set.  Hannah turned to look at me, her face boasting numerous laugh lines and wrinkles.  She was frailer now, we both were.  But I couldn't care less; she was still my Hannah even as her body grew older.  

"Niall, when did you know that I was the one?"  She asked in a soft voice, her hazel eyes gazing up at me.

I took a deep breath, looking out at the sunset a little longer before turning to gaze at her.  Strands of snow-white hair were falling across her face and I stretched out a slightly shaky hand to brush them back behind her ears.  

A cheeky smirk grew on my face as I did so.  "Beautiful, I always knew."  

Yeah, I see us in black and white

Crystal clear on a star lit night

In all your gorgeous colours

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

See you standing in your dress

Swear in front of all our friends

There'll never be another

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

Returning to the present, I sipped on my cooling tea, watching Hannah as she told me about an incident that happened during one of her classes at beautician school.  It involved something about a cat and mascara.  

As she told me how some of the seniors had decided to apply their skills to the cat instead of human models, the story punctuated by her laughs, I took a mental picture of us together, turning it black and white and settling it next to the photo of us out in the starry meadow.  

Hannah and I smiled as we watched her little nephew, Zeke, walk down the aisle, a purple velvet pillow in his arms.  On the pillow rested two little bands, one gold and the other silver.  

Finally, he reached the altar where Hannah and I stood, and we both took a ring, turning back towards the pastor.

Hannah went first, pledging to be faithful to me all our lives, both through sickness and health, life and death.  Then she gently slid the golden band onto my finger, blinking back the tears welling in her eyes as she did so.  Her voice was choked up as she spoke, "Niall, I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life."

I want the world to witness

When we finally say I do

We were curled up together on the couch, watching the news.  Hannah had her head resting on my shoulder, her breathing slow and gentle.  I was about ready to join her in sleep when something on the TV caught my eye.

The news anchor had begun a clip of our wedding and was speaking.  "...and all of us here at CKI want to wish this happy new couple the best following their gorgeous wedding yesterday afternoon.  If the new Mr. and Mrs. Niall Horan are watching this from wherever they are honeymooning, we extend our congratulations!"  

I turned the TV off and smiled, looking down at my beautiful new wife as she slumbered peacefully.  

It's the way you love

I gotta give it back to you

Tears streamed down Hannah's face as she looked at me, trembling.  "Niall, why do you love me?"  She asked, brow furrowed in confusion.  "I mean, I'm not famous, I can't sing like you, and I'm certainly not as beautiful as some of those other girls."  She said, and I rushed to console her.

"Nyah, sweetheart," I soothed, trying frantically to think of how to explain my answer to her question.  "This might sound a bit strange to you, but I love you because of how you love me.  You love me so completely, so selflessly, I just can't help but give love back to you.  You're all I'll ever need, Love."

I can't promise picket fences

Or sunny afternoons

I looked over at the angelic figure beside me, brunette hair shining in the golden light of the sun.  Shoving a hand in my pocket, I fingered the tiny black box stowed within.  

Now was the time, everything was perfect.  We were walking together in Hannah's Aunt's meadow, and all I had to do was ask this beautiful woman four words.  But those four words would change my life.

Taking a deep breath, I sank down on one knee, pulling out the box and opening it up as Hannah turned around to say something to me.  But as she caught sight of me on one knee, whatever she was going to say died on her lips.

"Oh, Niall..."  She gasped, covering her mouth with a hand.  

"Hannah Grace ben Tarben, I can't promise you picket fences or sunny afternoons, or the sun or the stars, but I can promise you that I will love you for the rest of my life, that nobody else will ever steal me away from you.  Will you marry me?"  I asked, almost afraid of what the answer might be.

"Yes."  Hannah breathed, and a grin leapt onto my face as I stood up, sliding the ring onto her finger.  Then I took the chance to just pause and look down at her.  

Vaguely, in the far future, I could see her standing in the doorway of a little house somewhere, a baby balanced on her hip as she welcomed me home from work.  A smile crept across my face at the vision.  Someday that would happen in some form.  Someday...

But, at night when I close my eyes

I see us in black and white

Crystal clear on a star lit night

There'll never be another

I promise that I'll love ya

I see us in black and white

Crystal clear on a star lit night

In all your gorgeous colours

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

All too soon, the night had to end, and I left Hannah's house, going back to mine.  

Lying on my back in bed, I closed my eyes, trying to sleep.  But all I could see was Hannah and I framed in a black and white photo, smiles frozen on our faces as we danced in the moonlight.  A scene from the past this time.  

There would never be another person like Hannah; I could never love anybody but her, I had sworn that in my mind tonight.  

See you standing in your dress

Swear in front of all our friends

There'll never be another

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

There'll never be another

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

And when the day came--and I knew it would--I would wait for her at the end of an aisle and watch her walk down it in a beautiful white dress, a beaming smile on her face.  

Together, we would vow, in front of all our family and friends that there would never be another.  That forever it would only be us two.  

I knew exactly what I would say to her; what I would promise for the rest of my life, and I said it aloud to the dark room.

"I promise that there will never be another, Hannah.  I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life."

Hannah smiled at me, wiping away tears.  "And I promise that till the end of my days, that I will love you, Niall."  She said, voice husky with unshed tears.

The pastor smiled, nodding to me.  "With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.  You may kiss the bride."

I smiled, taking Hannah in my arms and gently brushing away the tears streaming down her cheeks with my thumb.  "You heard the man.  We're stuck together till death do us part, 'Nyah."  I whispered, making her laugh.

"I'm okay with that, Nialler."  She whispered back, settling the last of my fears into its grave.  Even with everything we didn't know yet, we would make it.  We had sworn that we would.  

[what-the--curtains]

Braving the elements

(Bucky x OC and/or Bucky x reader)

Summary:

A mutant with elemental control flees her life of crime after an altercation with her boss. In hopes of bringing him down she seeks out her old friend Wanda and offers to help the Avengers. Whilst there a certain avengers catches her eye and she catches his. As a more sinister plot begins to reveal itself, you realize that your former employer is the least of your worries and that something wicked was being planned for you since the day you were born.

Warnings; Violence, Swearing, Theft

Author's note: First piece of non-academic writing I’ve done in a while so feedback is always appreciated, but be kind! I may change this to be a reader insert, but I just don’t like how (Y/n) looks in the writing. If y’all want it changed though let me know! Bucky makes his appearance in Chapter 4 so it’s a slow burn romance, but there’s gonna be fluff, angst and smut involved! Steve/Nat and Wanda/Vision are in it later as well, but I wanted to establish the main character a bit first as she’s the only one who's made up

Word Count: 2.0K

Act 1: Chapter 1: The Robbery

Songs inspiring this chapter

Ain’t no rest for the wicked – Cage the Elephant (Bank robbery)

Boss Bitch - Doja Cat (Fight with the avengers)

Monday 10 AM, N.Y.C

“This is it?” you ask, pulling your sunglasses down slightly in order to get a better view of the building standing before you.

“That’s the one.” Your getaway driver Calvin says into your ear piece, he’s a block away in the back of a white van waiting for the go ahead from the boss.

You squint as the sun hits your eyes, letting out a low whistle “Pretty fancy for a bank, you gonna tell me what I’m getting out of here?” you muse.

“That’s on a need to know basis sweetheart.” He responds flatly.

“Well sweetheart, hate to break it to ya, but I need to know!” you pause for a moment to see if you’ve managed to make him laugh “Seriously Calvin this is some of my best stuff!”

“God do you ever shut up, cameras and emergency buttons are down, you just have the guards to worry about now so get on with the job. Once you’re out make sure your face is covered. Do you have your mask with you? ”

“”You know as the person doing most of the brute work I think I deserve a little respect” you retort “Do I have my mask? Do you have your mask Calvin? God your infuriating!” you mutter, pulling out your “mandatory” earpiece and throwing it into a nearby gutter, before taking a quick glance in your purse just in case you had forgot.

Seeing the mask in its place, you pull your leather jacket over a white t-shirt and tighten your belt ensuring your shorts stay in place. Alright let’s do this you think with confidence before immediately tripping over your shoe laces and falling to the ground.

“God how embarrassing” you say slightly louder than you meant too. Pushing yourself onto one knee you tie your laces up and hop back on your feet “Alright let’s try this again.”

You walk through the sliding doors into the marbled interior of the bank, smiling as you pass by two security guards. One with a long mustache and another with a poorly done tattoo of a tiger on his bicep. You make note of the other two guards who were currently leaning up against the roman-esque columns lining the perimeter of the building. One was wearing sunglasses and the other was casually twirling a baton around.

“Hey, only four of you guys defending this whole building?” You inquire

“Ya sweetheart just the four of us, but don’t you worry we’ll keep ya safe” Tattoo replied with a smile and a slightly unnerving arm touch.

“Well thank goodness for that and god bless America!” you say sweetly grinning from ear to ear. Turning on your heel you head towards the counter ringing the bell twice before a woman in her mid-twenties appears from the back room and walks over to the counter. She’s wearing a name tag that reads Sandy.

“Hi there Sandy, how are you today?”

“I'm doing just fine thanks for asking and what can I do for you today?” She replied with a smile.

“I’m here to retrieve my belongings. Vault 176 here’s the key.” you say sliding it under the protective glass. Sandy smiles politely and walks into the backroom for a few minutes before emerging with a small box.

“Alright, I’m just going to need see some ID then your good to go ma’am”

“Well you see Sandy, I left it at home and my husband’s gonna kill me if I don’t get this back to him tonight could you do a gal a favour and just look the other way?” you plead

“I’m really sorry ma’am, but I just can’t do that.” Sandy replies sympathetically.

“Well I understand,” you say “Oh and Sandy, I’m sorry about this really I am”

“Sorry for what exactly ma’am?” she asks with a worried tone

“For this' ' you jump onto the counter and pull out a gun “Hi, yea, hello, people of the bank can I have your attention please? I just wanted to inform you all that I’m gonna be robbing this branch, but this does not mean it has to be a traumatic or unpleasant experience. I just need that box there and I don’t want anyone to get hurt, really I don’t. So if you could pretty please hand it over to me and any spare cash you have lying around this joint.”

Unfortunately, Tattoo, Mustache, Sunglasses, and Twirly were now approaching you with guns raised.

“Ma’am drop your weapon and put your hands where I can see them” demands Mustache

“C’mon sweetheart we both know you don’t know how to handle that thing.” Sunglasses says patronizingly

“Fine you got me glasses.” you pout “My little lady brain doesn’t know how to use a gun!” you exclaim before quickly throwing the gun at him, hitting him right in the head and knocking him out “ You’re supposed to throw the gun right?”

Mustache rushes towards you at full speed. Before he can reach you, you jump off the counter connecting the soles of your feet to his face knocking him down onto the floor unconscious. You land painfully on your hip feeling a bruise forming almost instantly.

The last two guards begin their approach. From the ground you kick Twirlys feet out from under him and jump to fight the baton out of his hand. Punching him in the throat you stand up and turn to knock tattoo, your least favorite of the four, right in the stomach with the baton. He doubles over in pain. Twirly tries to stand up, but you bring the top of your foot down on his neck causing him to drop, this time staying down. Bringing the same leg forward you knee tattoo in the nuts and feign a pained look as he topples over. Bending over you pick up the three guns now lying on the floor

“You know, you should really learn how to use these properly. Wouldn’t want you hurting anyone, especially yourselves.” You scold. The few people in the bank remained still and decided it was probably best to comply with you. You turn back to the counter now sweating, and Sandy hands you the box from the vault and a bag full of cash which she had filled during the beatdown.

“Thanks Sandy you’re a peach!”

Sandy looks at you pleadingly “Oh come on, we both know you ain’t gonna get fired because some lady came in and threatened you. If anything you should sue them, unsafe workplace and all” you offer sincerely with a shrug of your shoulders.

You gingerly step over the four guards lying on the floor and slip on your mask before exiting the bank.

Monday 10:25 AM Avengers Tower

A field agent runs into Tony’s office where he and Steve were working “Sir one of the downtown branches has been broken into!” he wheezes.

“And?” says Tony

“And you’re going to want to see this” He pulls up a video taken by one of the bystanders in the bank. The video depicts the scene of you beating up the four guards.

“You know who that is?” Steve asks Tony

“Never seen her before in my life, which is surprising considering how well she fights. Let’s get in for questioning. I'm a bit busy here so Steve if you wouldn’t mind.” He says turning back to his work.

“Peter, Wanda suit up, we’ve got a robbery to stop” Steve orders.

10:35 AM Downtown N.Y.C

God this mask is hot you think struggling to get the eyes hole in place as you approach the white van concealing Calvin’s whereabouts. Knocking three times he open the door and you

throw the small box from the vault up to him.

‘’What have I told you about taking out your ear piece?” he fumed “And what the hell is in that bag?” he shouts pointing to the large bag of cash you had grabbed.

“Money.” you say with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Last time I checked boss said no extra risks, he ain’t gonna be happy about this.”

“Well last time I checked he likes money” you respond causing Calvin to become even more agitated. As you turn to grab the money you see a ball of red light come hurling at you. You duck just in time.

“Shit, how the hell did the goddamn Avengers get here so fast?” Calvin shouts, you grab the money and throw it into the back of the van he extends his hand and you’re about to grab it when BAM something hits you in the back knocking you forward.

“Alright who the fuck threw a whole ass shield at me!” You yell more irritated that angry

“We gotta go c’mon Eve” Calvin pleads “Boss really ain’t gonna like this!”

“Screw that, this just got personal! Go, i’ll catch up” you promise turning and running towards the shield throwing culprit a.k.a Captain American. You kick him right in the gut having caught him slightly off-guard he doubles over. You remove your belt and wrap it around his neck pulling as hard as you can.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a superhero or something?“ you begin to ask, but before you can fish the sentence something slaps you in the back of the head pulling off your mask. You're thrown off the captains back.

“Shit!” you mumble before turning to see one of spidey kids webs still holding your mask.

You hear her before you see her “Chris?” you turn to see someone you hadn’t seen in years

“Wanda?” you blink a few times no it can’t be. Just then a truck skids up behind you and firm hands hoists you up

“We gotta go now!” Calvin says angrily, shooting suppressing fire out towards the three avengers.

“Chris!” Wanda yells again before throwing energy towards the truck. You pull the air around it and throw the energy back her way.

With Spiderkid and the captain still on your tail you decide to pull out a few of your old tricks. You pull the branch from a tree up and wrap it around the kids arm trapping him in the tree

“Um Mr. Rogers I’m down and out” he sighs.

“Two down one to go.” you focus on the captain who's now running through the street after you at superhuman speed. Lucky for you it had rained the day before on the street was full of puddles. Crouching down you turn the puddles to ice causing the captain to wipe out. Hard. Closing the doors of the van as It turns the corner you make your way back to your headquarters.

“They made me. Spider kid took my mask.” you whisper hoping Calvin doesn’t hear you

“He ain’t gonna be happy” he chastised.

“God you don’t think I already know that! At least we got the goods. He’s gonna be real happy about that!”

[mfackenthal]

The MFackenthal Show and @maxattack-powell!

banner by @whenyourheartskipsabeat

Hello all!  Welcome back to the MFackenthal Show!  I am so glad that you are here today.  If you’re new to the show, I encourage you to go here to find past episodes.  There are only a few.

The MFackenthal Show has officially been green lit for more episodes!  We used to only be able to afford to run the show every once in a while, but the people have spoken - they want to see the show more often!  The funding came through and we hope to give the people what they want!  Do you want to be on the show?  Do you have someone that you want to see on the show?  If so - reblog or comment or send a message to let MFackenthal know!  We’ll see what we can do!  We have this show and two others lined up for you!

I could not be more excited to bring you this next guest.  She has been with the fandom for quite a while.  She was one of the first people I started communicating with on a regular basis.  She has talked me up, supported me from the beginning and though she hasn’t written much lately - when she does drop a chapter - it’s long and it’s worth it!  Please welcome to the stage @maxattack-powell!!!!!  (Insert Cheering here!)

(Megs greets Max with a hug - which means that Megs essentially runs and leaps into Max’s arms.  Max is fairly tall and Megs is barely 5′3″) 

Megs:  Max, I am so happy that you are here!  Can you believe that you’re here today?

Max:  Haha, yes - I can.  But I am honored to be here.

Megs:  Max, sit with me.  For those in the audience who may not know you, tell us about when and why you joined the fandom.

Max: Yanno, I always made my best guess at this before, but I knew you were going to ask me this - so I looked it up.  Did you know that now there’s this Official Tumblr blog called @memories, and it knows down to the minute when someone joined? Let me go check it… *digs through the blogs posts* Okay, it was apparently 07/31/2017 at 1:17:15 PM, which means it must have been on the weekend because of the time of day haha.

As for why ... hmm, well… I found the Choices app one day, when it only had like… three series I think! Anyone else remember that time? 

Megs:  I do!  Because I was playing Hollywood University I think I downloaded choices the day the app came out.

Max: Awh!  Well, I fell in love with The Freshman Series. Mostly because of Chris Powell and Zack Zilberg, and a long time ago I was in another fandom that had tons of fan fiction/art… so I googled “Choices Chris Powell” and any other combination I could think of looking for possible fanfiction. The fandom was almost non existent at the time. There was actually one person, who has long since left the fandom due to fandom dramas - we all know the kinds I’m talking about - but a few others had started posting their works as well… and I got hooked. Eventually I felt the bug to write how I felt TF should play out as well, and here I am *looks back at the “joined tumblr timestamp”* uhh… 20ish months ago!  Haha!!

Megs:  LOL, when you put it that way it doesn’t sound like that long ago ... lets call a spade a spade - that was almost 2 years ago!  That’s amazing!  You have to have seen so much in this fandom!  What is it that keeps you around?

Max: There are so many awesome people in this fandom, in this world we’ve all created for our pixelated loves lol. Soooo many creative minds to follow and enjoy. The content people share, original or repost… it’s great. 

... Unfortunately it is also a double edge sword ... the drama, the jealousy, the rumors, the hate, etc. I’ve sadly seen far too much and it comes in so many forms… it’s unnecessary.

Megs:  I couldn’t agree more!  If you could tell the fandom one thing - what would it be?

Max: It would be that we’re all here because we want to have a good time. No one came here to get ridiculed, to be scrutinized or chastised for their opinions, their likes or dislikes. Real life has enough of that going on. We are all individuals - if you want to be treated nicely, fairly, etc. you must also do the same to others. There is no reason someone must agree with you or anyone else. Live and let live. Embrace our differences as it makes us who we are. Most of the issues I see stem from a simple difference in opinion. That is ridiculous. Everyone’s entitled to their own thoughts. We must build each other up, not tear one another down. No one here owes anyone anything, now go have some fun.

(The room stands up in applause!)

Megs:  You should definitely stand up and take a bow, Max! 

(Max does just as Megs suggests - but she also makes Megs stand up and do the same. Laughing, they both sit back down.)

Awh, Max ... okay, let’s get back to you.  We know that you’d fight anyone for the position of The Chris Powell Appreciation/Fan Club.  And for those who don’t know, Max has been retelling the full The Freshman series, interweaving dialogue and plot from PB but also adding much of her own content.  MC and Chris get a backstory.  Chris gets best friends from back home.  What is your favorite piece that you have written?

Max: Oh geez hahaha. Um… can I just say The Freshman Chronicles as a whole? I’ve written for different fandoms, and I have original WIPs but I’ll stick to the Choices fandom for this answer. I’ve put a lot of time into TFC. Tons of additional story work, research on characters and their backgrounds, PBs and my own OCs. You should see my file folder setup haha. It’s crazy… I have so many docs, pictures and gifs. Most organized by location (Hartfeld, Boston, New Haven, Cherryfield, etc.), then by character… and on some I get more detailed and split them by emotion and situation.

Megs: By what again?

Max:  Emotion and Situation ... Yeah. I warned you it was crazy! *laughs* TFC was the reason I joined tumblr really. Instead of staying a Nonny and only reading others posted works. I wanted to comment, like and reblog what I enjoyed, while I also worked on my own contribution to the fandom. I had a vision for Chris and MC that had more than the game could give, and I wanted to see if i was still any good at writing since it had been years and years… it’s funny to see how different my current posts are from my first over a year ago. Makes me want to go update a few because they could use a little help *awkward laugh*

Megs:  I’m sure we can all relate to that!  Hmmm ... I’m starting to get a feel for this, I think, but what is your writing process?

Max:  Lots of planning, mostly in my head. When I feel like I have a decent concept I might type out some notes or work it into my outline (another crazy thing I have going for TFC because it’s so big haha). But usually, once I hatch out a basic plan on where I’m going… I just start typing. Keeping the general plot and main points I want to hit in mind, I simply start typing… keeping it as organic as possible. It usually works out well. 

Megs:  Do you have any advice for other writers?

Max: First, and most importantly… do it because you enjoy it. Don’t do it for likes, reblogs, popularity, etc. If you’re having a good time dreaming things up and typing them out, that’s what’s important. The rest is just an extra bonus. Also, don’t give up. It’s easy to become discouraged, frustrated, distracted and more… but remember - your creative cells can’t be running all the time. They need to rest just like your body. Take breaks… go read, play games, hang out with friends/family, watch a movie… whatever. Just do something to help you relax, to reset and you’ll very probably find inspiration and/or motivation to continue. Remember, this is for fun. *wink and finger guns*

Megs: So what do you do for fun?

Max: I actually have a few things I do regularly. A big one is making costumes/props for conventions, small productions, etc. I also train and show horses. I do the same with my dogs, but more for competitions and not really any shows. I’ve always drawn, sculpted, painted since I was old enough to hold things with my hands… and about a year ago I started learning how to do it digitally as well. I run (not at all for fun haha) and play hockey (totally for fun), follow comics and watch anime. I've restored houses, cars and old furniture. I like to read as much as I can - that’s an important one. I also play video games. Something I’ve done since I was young… I've even competed, and won, a few gaming tournaments.

Megs:  You don’t know how to be bored do you?

Max: LOL, Megs.  Yeah, um, so there’s a “few” *makes air quotes* of my never ending list of interests haha. Gives me a lot to talk about with people, eh?

Megs: Not that I can understand how you’d have time for this ... but what do you do to help pay for your many activities?

Max:  Oh like, my job? Well that can be a simple answer… like “I work in software” but the more interesting way to say it is I use my MBA, experience in business, the financial industry and technology to improve and stabilize my customers environment through technological solutions that fit their specific needs. *presses lips together* I solve problems by designing solutions. Bored yet? Hahaha.

Megs:  No!  That sounds wonderful!  Who doesn’t want their stuff to be designed better?  Any chance you could start working for tumblr?  Some of us have a few complaints ... tags ... mobile losing our work ...

Max:  I’m not sure they could pay me enough to help them with all of their problems!  But, tumblr, feel free to send me an offer!

Megs:  Seriously - send her a 6 figure offer!

Max:  Okay, Megs, well now I have a question for you.

Megs: Uhhhh, Max, that’s not exactly how this is supposed to go. 

Max:  Yeah, don’t care.  Your fans need to know ... Hoooow do you find the time to read and review so much?! And I know that’s just in this fandom.  I know you read books and you may read for other fandoms!?  Seriously, it’s awesome. We need to clock your page flipping speed haha.

Megs:  *blushes* Oh my gosh, you have to stop!  Here’s the key to how I do it ... I wake up at 5:30am and read for about 30 minutes.  Then I workout and start my day.  I read in line at the grocery stores.  I read on my breaks at work. 

Max:  Oh my gosh - you’re such a nerd and I love that!  Okay, nerd, what is your favorite thing to do, besides reading all the things of course?

Megs: This show, of course!  And, of course, getting people to do silly things on this show with me.  For instance - with as athletic as you are, I hear you can’t jump? 

Max:  Megs, shhhhh.  You told me you weren’t going to bring that up.

Megs:  I did no such thing! (Meg says while laughing) I said I might not bring it up.

Max:  Uh huh.

(Kris Kross’s “Jump” starts playing in the studio)

Megs:  Come on - show me what you’ve got! 

(Megs starts “singing” along and jumping along with the song. Max stays seated.  Megs finally pulls Max up into a standing position. Max plays along and “jumps” next to Megs - getting no air at all.)

Oh, come on Max - put some real strength in to it.  Jump! Jump! Jump!

(Max jumps and gets the smallest amount of air time.)

Max:  *laughing* Megs - I’m tall!  I don’t need to jump to reach things!

Megs:  *laughing* That must be nice.  I got good at this type of jumping because I had to learn to jump up and gently grab things from the grocery so I didn’t knock everything down.

*continuing to jump around the audience - getting everyone to join her* And that’s all for the show today today, folks!  Thank you for watching!!  Have a great night!

[salfisherandfriends]

My insert/OC is named Maggot, 21, curvy plus size queen, 5'2", long copper red hair, brown eyes, blue glasses, gold septum ring. AFAB uses they/them pronouns. I'm the mom jeans and tucked in Hawaiian shirt type gay ;^) Could I have a fic with ep 4 Sal? (So we're roughly the same age lol) Maybe one of our first late nights together that turns into a sleepover and I just can't sleep because that sweet sweet Insomnia rules over my life.

[Sal and Maggot’s Late Night (Requested OC)]

“Dang, I’m bored.”

Sal startled out of his sleepy haze, blinking away the darkness from his vision and realizing that Maggot was still, in fact, sitting across the room from him. He made a questioning sound and they just let their head fall back against the chair, sighing. Sal stretched his limbs down to his fingertips and toes before slumping back into his beanbag.

“Shit, sorry to fall asleep on you. What time is it?” he asked, his voice groggy with sleep. He ran his fingers through his tangled blue locks, nails catching on the straps of his mask. Maggot stood up and walked over to him, obvious fatigue in their movements. They squinted into the dark, making out the faint red of Sal’s alarm clock.

“About 2,” they replied and sat down next to Sal, “it’s pretty late.”

“Mhmm,” Sal hummed, “you planning on heading home soon?”

“Um, not yet, if that’s alright with you.” Maggot’s eyes darted to Sal’s face, instinctively watching for a reaction. They blinked and looked away a moment later.  

“Yeah, it’s all good with me.” Sal turned to look at them, a teasing grin in his tone. “I already told you it was fine.”

“I know...” they murmured

“You can spend the night.”

“I know! You already said that I could.” 

They sat in silence for a moment before Sal leaned back into his beanbag, yawning again. He reached over for his guitar and fiddled with the strings, chattering about recent events in their lives and how his college search was going for him. There wasn’t much to do at this time of night. Both of them were tired after a long day of pestering Todd to try out his new gaming console and writing songs with Larry. They knew they had plans to drive down to a nearby amusement park the next day but that didn’t inspire much motivation to get to bed. 

Maggot had become a recent addition to the group. Sal met them a couple months ago but everyone had been pretty busy for the following weeks so he never really got a chance to properly introduce them. They all finally had some time off from classes and wanted to make the most out of it, so he took the opportunity. Everyone had gotten along well enough, but Sal hadn’t expected them to stay over this long. Not that it bothered him–he just didn’t think Maggot would be down for it. 

“You wanna try and head to bed? I don’t mind getting the couch all comfy for you.” Sal offered and Maggot rubbed their eyes, glasses askew and coppery hair draped across their face. 

“I can help myself, I just need a blanket and pillow.” They trailed off, rising to their feet alongside Sal as he got up to find Maggot something to sleep on. He pulled out a blanket from his closet and grabbed a spare pillow from his bed, handing them over to Maggot.

“I’ll be right back!” Sal walked over to the bathroom to freshen up and left Maggot to do as they pleased. When he returned, they were lazing on the couch, pillow and blanket piled together. He seated himself next to them, picking up on the subtle snoring of his dad a room over. He idly hoped he wasn’t that loud in his sleep, glancing over at Maggot. They seemed a bit tired lately. 

Despite that, Sal noticed Maggot suddenly perked up, a grin pulling at the corners of their lips.

“Wanna tell ghost stories?” they asked and Sal hesitated for a moment. He hadn’t told Maggot about the paranormal activities he’d experienced recently and had been becoming more and more prevalent as the days passed. He smiled beneath his mask and nodded, gesturing for them to do first.

Maggot gave a pretty detailed recap of a ghost encounter that their friend had once at an abandoned house. Despite being accompanied by spooky sound effects, it was actually pretty creepy–especially when he could personally relate to the encounter. Random ghost sightings rarely phased him anymore, but he was always down for an adventure. As of late, however, his spark for it was dwindling. After Maggot’s story was finished, however, he felt that passion in him rekindle. 

“Alright, that was good,” he said rather nonchalantly, getting up to find a flashlight from the T.V stand. When he found it he returned to his prior spot, flicking it on. The light intensified the shadows on his face, eyes almost completely hidden. 

“But I’ve got something better.” He paused, feeling a wicked expression creep onto his face when Maggot’s features tensed. 

“You like bologna?” 

...

The next morning was unforgiving, but not as unforgiving as a sleep-deprived Todd. 

“Did you guys sleep at all?” Todd snapped from the front seat, a similar tire evident on his own face but his eyes remained glued to the road ahead. Maggot and Sal both caught themselves on each other as they were abruptly woken from their slumber. They were all stuck in traffic and dealing with Todd’s envious wrath of not being able to rest in the back seat. But, hey! He was the only with enough driving experience who was also not feeling like complete shit. Maggot and Sal were both high on sleep deprivation, Larry was still coming down from his high on something else–and Todd pulled the short stick. 

Both of them slowly turned to look at Todd with the same annoyed expression, promptly ignoring his question and tossing their heads back onto their seats. Larry snickered at nothing, turning around in his seat to look at them.

“Come on, now! I’m not gonna carry you two around all day, I’ve got rides to ride!”

“Just leave us be,” Maggot moaned, “I’ll be more alive when we get there, I swear!” Sal was already asleep again.

[marshmallowprotection]

Music Theory #8

Far Too Young to Die by Panic! At The Disco. OC-Insert.  Unknown/Ray focused, mainly Unknown; Ray Route Spoilers. You’ve been warned in advance. 

“I've never so adored you. I'm twisting allegories now. I want to complicate you. Don't let me do this to myself.” 

If there’s one single thing that has been plaguing him ever since he saw her face it was that he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Her face was this lovely vision of something otherworldly, a Spector that he could not ignore, and someone who he had claimed as his own far before she even knew of his existence on this Earth. Yes, Lila was far too much for him to handle, and yet, he didn’t give a damn about that. 

All that mattered was that she was underneath his fingertips. 

The very same thing could have been said for Ray. He had also been instantly encapsulated by her face, by her smile, and by her presence. He dared to stay close to her side, and he dared to dream that he could have a chance with her, even when the odds were against his favor. However, Ray had always made a fatal mistake. 

Ray screwed up and lost his chance. He could have had everything, and yet, he wasn’t brave enough to have that. The moment that Lila dared to take that first step forward, the minute that she pressed her lips to his, the second that he realized that he could have what he had been dreaming of for months all this time— 

he turned tail and ran like the chicken he was. 

Heh. It was laughable how pitiful he was, and he should have thanked him for being that way. Where Ray was weak and scared, Saeran was confident and in control. That was where Ray made his mistake in life. His last mistake, as far as Saeran was concerned in the matter. 

When he emerged, he had no plans on going dormant back into the recesses of Ray’s mind. 

N o n e. 

“I'm chasing roller coasters. I've got to have you closer now. Endless romantic stories. You never could control me.”

The door to her room opened with a loud creaking noise. He waltzed right in because it was her room, and by extension, his room since he was the one that gave it to her in the first place. It was a heavy door, not one that you could open without pushing it open with extra pressure. If he had wanted, he could have slammed it open and watched her expression turned from hopeful to petrified. 

It took her a moment to figure out that he was not her precious Ray. 

Those soft eyes narrowed in confusion. 

“You’re not Ray,” she breathed, panic evident in the sharp inhale. “You’re not Ray at all.” 

“Well, I’m impressed that you could figure that out,” he said, walking forward and backing her into a corner where she couldn’t escape from him. She was such a little thing, barely standing above one-hundred and fifty centimeters at most, and rail-thin. 

Lila was disgustingly cute. Her penchant for petticoats... ribbons... bows... such a clash against his personal interests. As he stared her down he momentarily wondered what she would look like in something tight and form-fitting as opposed to this style. 

It wouldn’t take much to break the fragile porcelain doll. All good toys had their limitations. “You may not be as dim-witted as you seem,” Saeran whispered, his fingers brushing against the tips of her hair. “Ray is long gone from this body, princess. I’m someone much better than him. I’m not fond of this name, but I don’t mind it leaving your lips. Call me... Saeran.” 

She swallowed. 

“C’mon... say it. Say my name.” 

“S... Saeran.” Lila squeaked. It was just enough to please the demon that had been eating at his skin. Yes, this was what he had been pining for all of this time, after all. The way that she shuddered excited him and yet at the time, it left him feeling like something was amiss. 

“Well, I never really thought that you'd come tonight. When the crown hangs heavy on either side.” 

Time passed just as quickly as it had when he was in the dark. 

He began to play this deadly game of love and hate with the girl. Dancing between this very fine line of annoyance and affection, leaning into her embrace and shoving her away before any weakness could be found. It would amuse him long enough to get his fix most days. 

“Saeran, please stop.” 

“I love when you beg for mercy. Do it again.” 

--

“You should be grateful that I keep you around. If I didn’t pity you then the Savior would have gotten rid of you long ago.” 

“Savior, she could rid of anyone... even you if she wanted...” 

--

“You should greet me without hesitation. I hate to wait. When I call your name, you should answer me.” 

“I’m not a plaything!” 

--

“Now, now... stop crying, princess. I don’t know why you’re so miserable. You’re the one that stayed here despite knowing it was all a farce... all for Ray... all for us... isn’t this what you wanted?” 

“I never wanted this to cost the both of you your sanity.” 

-- 

In every instance that it didn’t fix him... when he came into Lila’s company, he would find himself confused, enraged, and bitter. All of her reactions were not what he expected. Sure, Lila’s eyes would be flooded with tears, and she would plead with him; But, she would find moments to lift her head, fight back, and try to tear his walls just as she had done with Ray. 

It might have been that tact that made him so determined to toy with her as he did. Her brown eyes were hard on him as he pushed her down again. “Hahaha... why are you looking at me like that, toy? Are you going to cry? Beg me for your pathetic marshmallow boy to come back? ” 

“He’s not coming back right now, I know that,” she whispered, eyes shutting as she did. “He was hurt too much. That’s why he’s not awake anymore. That’s why you’re out here... isn’t it? Because you don’t hurt the way that Ray does. You’re like his sword and his shield, Saeran.” 

Saeran blanched. 

“I-I’m right... aren’t I?” she reached up to him from her spot underneath him on the floor, flinching as her hands came into contact with his cheek. “If Ray is all of his fear, devotion, and peace that remains after the storm... then Saeran is his strength, indifference, and fight to withstand the storm.“

Something cut through his chest when she uttered those words to him.

What nonsense was that! What was she insinuating in her madness? He could care less about Ray, he could have cared less about what happened to him, and he didn’t care about protecting him. All Lila cared about was Ray. She didn’t care about him. All she was doing was to protect herself from him. 

She wouldn’t admit it. But he wanted to hear her say it to him so that he keeps on existing as he is. Angry and bitter and upset with the world. He wouldn’t dare to believe for a moment that he was any more than that. If he stopped then his Savior would raise her own sword and —

No, no. His Savior would never get rid of him. She needed him. She was proud of him. She took him in when everyone else left him behind. She loved him. She was the only one that loved him. She was the only person in this world that he needed. The Savior was all that needed. 

So, why did he keep coming back to see Lila? 

It had to be that he wanted to destroy what remained of Ray’s heart, and nothing more. He told himself. He would prove that Lila didn’t care about him as she cared for the soft Ray. Saeran would pull those words out of Lila’s lips if it was the last thing that he did. 

“Give me one last kiss while we're far too young to die. Far too young to die. Far too young to die. Fixation or psychosis? Devoted to neurosis now. Endless romantic stories. You never could control me.” 

They tried to keep him away from Lila after that. After he fought with her and tried to scream at her louder than his thoughts were screaming at him.

But, she was his toy. She belonged to him. He was the one that brought her to this place and the only one that could decide her fate. They couldn’t keep her away from him; They would never be able to do that. 

He kept his work up and did as the Savior told him to do until he grew too uncontrollably numb. So numb that he couldn’t feel his own fingers. So numb that he didn’t feel like he was in his own body. 

He stormed into Lila’s room without a second thought, shoving the Believers out of his way and proving his worth. “Hey,” he spat, shutting the door and locking it behind him. 

Lila lifted up her head and stared at him with nervous eyes. She didn’t react as she once did, with fear and recoiling, now she sat there and waited to see what he would do before she acted. 

“You heard all of that?” he asked without waiting for her to answer him because he knew she heard him. “Good. They thought they could keep you away from me, but you see that they couldn’t do that. You know that I’m strong. I’m the strongest. I can do anything.” 

She took in an uneasy breath.

“Yes,” she said, slowly. “You don’t need to do anything to prove that to anyone in this place, especially not Rika. Your worth isn’t defined by what you can do for her and her stupid-” 

Saeran stood in front of Lila, now. She stopped talking when she saw the glint in his eyes. 

“Now,” he said, taking her face in his hands. “Treat me like Ray.” 

Lila stared at him, confused at his words. 

“You heard me,” Saeran repeated. “Treat me like Ray, toy. Go ahead, go and do what you did with him... you know, in the garden... come on... I don’t like to waste time.”

“No.” 

“...No?” he echoed, the rage coming onto the surface once again. “What do you mean, no?” 

“You’re not Ray,” she said, for what must have been the hundredth time since he had asked that question nights ago. The fire in her eyes coming out for the first time, as she wept tears that he couldn’t place as any specific emotion. “I’m not going to treat you like Ray because you’re not Ray. You’re Saeran. It would be an insult to you and Ray if I acted like you were both the same person because you’re not. You just aren’t. You both exist in this body, so I can’t act like you’re him, or he’s you.” 

Saeran began to hyperventilate. His chest rising and falling as he said things that he can’t even remember. All he knew was that she was cutting too deep into his shield and he couldn’t let anyone see his weakness. 

He couldn’t be weak.

He couldn’t be weak or they would die. From the moment of her outburst, everything became a blur to him as he shouted and screamed and cried at the pain that swallowed him whole. The nail hit the head and there was no turning back from that. He slipped back underneath the darkness and it was only later that he realized that his control had been relinquished to Ray if only for a few short minutes. 

“Well, I never really thought that you'd come tonight. When the crown hangs heavy on either side. Give me one last kiss while we're far too young to die.” 

His distorted dense of perception of this world was shattered into pieces. It was like the rose-colored lenses had finally been removed.

He was sick, and he had been sick for so long. Everything that he knew was turning out to a fabricated lie and he didn’t know what to do with himself.  All Saeran could do was run before they caught him and made him drink every last drop of the elixir and force him to go back to the darkness where all he knew was anger and hatred. 

He spent all night thinking about it. With a heavy heart and tearful eyes, he thought long and hard about where he had gone wrong, and what he was supposed to do from this point. He had to face Lila and she broke him down, and then he had to face V, and he tried to speak sense into him despite the rage in his heart just as Lila had done.  She saw right through him. She saw him for who he was. She tore down his walls without even flinching. It hit him even harder than the sheer idea that maybe Jihyun Kim wasn’t as horrible as he believed.

That wasn’t to say that V’s words didn’t hit him too. It just cemented what he was feeling. They wanted him to see something, and he was starting to see it. Mistakes had been made and so much misery had been caused... but he could make it better according to them if he just let himself accept his feelings... the good and the bad. 

What was the right thing to do? 

Maybe... just maybe... he needed to listen to what Ray had been trying to say to him. 

“Well, I never really thought that you'd come tonight. When the crown hangs heavy on either side. Give me one last kiss while we're far too young to die. Far too young to die. Far too young to die.” 

Saeran took a deep breath and entered her room that evening underneath the moonlight. He walked across the room unsure if she was resting or if she was awake waiting for him. All he knew was that he had a lot to make up for and that he needed to apologize for ever thinking or believing that she didn’t care about him as much as she cared about Ray. 

“...Lila,” he said. 

Lila stirred from her light slumber without much warning. Her eyelids fluttered open and she lifted her head to gaze in his direction. Her knee-jerk reaction was to sit upright and hold herself defensively. It made his heart ache to see that she had been pushed to that point. 

His tired eyes gazed at her with such feeling that he had not been able to share with this woman before. “I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s alright, you don’t have to get out of bed. I’m not going to hurt you anymore... I’m not going to shout. I won’t be doing any of that anymore. I just came here... to apologize.” 

“Well, I never really thought that you'd come tonight. When the crown hangs heavy on either side. Give me one last kiss while we're far too young to die. Far too young to die.” 

Saeran just prayed that she would forgive him.

By the glint in her eyes, he knew that she already had. 

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Complementary (Collins x OC) Chapter 34: Vows

Summary: Nearly a year, Genevieve and Jack have been together; their big day is finally here.

AN: Thank you for being patient!

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Awaking alone after almost a year of the opposite was a strange feeling. Genevieve stretched languidly in the unfamiliar bed.  Once up and out, which took a few seconds contemplation, she rehearsed her physiotherapy. The culmination of months of work. She was unsure about whether she should rehearse her walk a little more lest she push herself too far.

Then her sister arrived and the calm was broken.

“Why haven’t you come down for breakfast yet?” Lilly squeaked, “Big day!”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Genevieve mumbled, longing to collapse back into bed. Later, she remembered the one lump in the mattress directly underneath her back and the desire faded.

A hearty breakfast was laid out across the table. Genevieve didn’t think she could stomach it. There was a hint of sickness in her stomach for a last minute invite had gone out and she’d been somewhat regretting it since she dropped it through the post box slot. No mention of it was discussed with Jack, something she was regretting even more. But at least she would find out the result in a few hours. Fucking hell, a few hours.

Felt like longer as she ate, washed herself and slipped into her freshly washed dressing gown. Lilly could be heard downstairs with her son and husband, chaperoning them about to go

Genevieve did her own hair and makeup. Her “bridal” team was merely a formality, the women of the immediate families. They were getting ready downstairs at her request. But that didn’t stop them from occasionally poking their head around the door and squeaking something before dashing back downstairs to relate to the crew what her current status was. The only assistance she required was getting dressed. The dress was tighter than before but not so much for it to become uncomfortable. The issue was the buttons that lined her spine. Her mother helped her out there and Genevieve spent the next few minutes thinking about Jack without distraction.

He was in a small hotel function room with the few chairs in rows already filled with the guests, stood at the makeshift altar with his best mate Farrier and his brother Toby at his side. This was something he’d thought about briefly in his early RAF days, marrying Farrier in near matching suits. But now that couldn’t be further from what he wanted.

“Fifteen minutes, still time to make a break for it,” Toby whispered.

“So you can have Ginny? No chance,” Jack let out a laugh.

“Damn, you saw through my cunning plan,” Toby snapped his fingers before leaning in to whisper, “How’d you know she’s not already waiting for me in the car?”

“Helluva woman,” Farrier broke in and the two men glanced at him, “Marrying helluva guy. You’d be ridiculous if you thought one of these kids would leave the other at the altar.”

“You mean the collapsible table,” Toby snarked as Jack flushed at the compliment before busying himself with his mother sat in the front row.

“Eh, same difference,” Toby shrugged.

A collapsible table, no bridesmaids or over the top procession, just their nearest and dearest watching the ceremony and coming for the wedding breakfast. Simple, limited attention, despite Cora’s best attempts to “give them the wedding they deserved” which might have featured doves and fireworks. All that was missing was the bride.

She was nearly outside, tightly gripping the bouquet in the back seat of the car that was stuck in mild traffic.  The end of today couldn’t come sooner.

Finally, Tony parked the car in his reserved spot, outside the hotel. He skipped around to open the door for her. She stepped out, feeling the heat of late July prickle her legs. Thank goodness she wasn’t in heels.

“God, I’m gonna fall over,” Genevieve muttered as she glanced at her cane left in the backseat of the car.

“I’m here, pickle,” Tony took her arm, perfect father of the bride, “Squeeze if you need more support.”

“Hello, Aunty Gem,” James beamed at her with shining cleanliness. It disgusted them both so Genevieve tousled his hair a little. Lilly sighed at this but passed James the box with rings in them, ushering him after his father.

“He just wanted to say hello,” She excused, swallowing before she finished, “I don’t think I’ll have to kick Jack. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, so do you,” Genevieve tried not to duck her head with the compliment, “Is everyone in? Uh, I don’t suppose you’ve seen an old man and his son come by. You wouldn’t know them.”

“No, why?”

Genevieve restrained a sigh. Of course they wouldn’t be coming. An invitation and the first letter in three years explaining all was not enough to convince two strangers to be at the wedding.

“Just wondering, don’t worry.”

That disappointment was replaced by the worry she assured others about, a spike of anxiety, one that also met with Jack. He stopped talking to the notary when James trotted down the aisle, clutching a small box and singing loudly that “they’re coming”.  Lilly then quickly entered, repeating what her son had said before taking her seat beside her mother. An unorthodox beginning to the ceremony but that was the way with him and Genevieve.

His back was where she would appear and it stayed that way as he heard the door open. But he couldn’t stand it much longer and risked a peek for the first time in a day – that might have been a year. Jack wasn’t surprised, but still felt the full impact, that she looked so utterly radiant. In a dress that was simply a sleeveless, white polka dot version of his favourite and she was so far away – a whole twenty five feet. When she started moving towards him, his hand came over the right side of his face before pressing into his cheek to hide his tears. It didn’t work at all. Then he saw her left hand holding her cane, the last time that her finger would be bare, and he was gone, crushing his sobs and his laughter into his palm then closing it into a fist.

Very nearly did Genevieve fall to the same fate. She knew that Jack wasn’t going to be in his RAF uniform and thank goodness because he was so much more attractive in a kilt. The hand that occupied the bouquet was looped through her father’s arm; she had nothing to hide her smile behind. It only made her more beautiful.

After what seemed like hours, Genevieve reached the altar and, out of her bouquet, she pulled out a folded hankie. A wave of murmured laughter rolled through the room, Jack joining in as it was passed it to him.

“Thanks, love,” He dabbed his eyes dry.

Genevieve bit her lip which did nothing to hide her smirk, “Don’t mention it.”

With his tears mopped away, Jack tucked the hankie up his sleeve and the notary began the service. Genevieve kept checking Jack in the corner of her eye. It was hard to look away from such a vision.  Occasionally she caught him looking too and they shared a smile.

If there were any objections to the ceremony, everyone held their peace – apart from Toby, who conveniently cleared his throat after this was made known. Proceeding, the notary signalled for James to bring the rings to her. He did so with immense pride. His smile looked as though it would fall from his face as he passed them over. Genevieve and Jack shared that respect as they each recited the vows with their names inserted to that chain of words. Jack went first and he beamed at finally learning Genevieve’s middle name, then came Genevieve who already knew his from grilling him about the subject months before.

A new ring sat on their left hands and it was with bubbling giddiness that such words were spoke: “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Already, Genevieve had her arms around Jack’s neck so all that was needed was a gentle dip of Jack’s head for them to seal the deal. Clapping from around the room echoed into the distance as they pulled away and smiled at one another.

“Hello, husband,” Genevieve whispered, rubbing her nose against his before cutting off his reply with: “Do you have any briefs on? I’ve wanted to ask since I saw the kilt.”

“Well,” Jack raised a brow with what was meant to be a smirk but ended up being a gleeful grin, “You’re not supposed to. It’s tradition.”

“Really?” Genevieve said disbelievingly, yet she was still smiling.

Jack’s glow shifted from dusty pink to fuchsia, “No scants under these petticoats.”

The pair giggled like children at the thought of going commando and kissed again.

“You bought the cottage then?” Tony asked. Genevieve naturally rolled her eyes because of his tone. Even on her wedding day, he was interrogating her partner. Still, it couldn’t be helped and he wouldn’t sway her mind or heart.

“Yes, we managed to get that set of paperwork sorted out before this one,” Jack patted her hand in her lap and brushed his fingertips over her ring.

Ethel then jumped in, “So no honeymoon?”

“No honeymoon, but plenty of time off to ourselves, plenty of furniture to build,” Genevieve sighed, causing the table to snicker. In all honesty, spending time setting up their house to however they wanted, alone, was a perfect honeymoon in her eyes.

Dinner arrived and everyone continued conversation between mouthfuls. Genevieve and Jack barely parted contact, their hands returning to one another as if the rings were magnet and iron. Not that Jack would have minded if they were because a fad during the war, popularised by the absence from loved ones, meant that he could wear this token of affection and commitment. He could not be happier to wear one.

Despite holding prior knowledge of minimal speeches being a part of this ceremony, Farrier finished his dinner, downed his drink, then launched into his retelling of, when he first met him in RAF training, Collins being a skinny little bastard with knobbly knocking knees and a naïve smile that would not see the light of day once he started drill work.

Feeling the tranquilising effects of the alcohol, Genevieve pushed back her chair and leant over to Jack, “I need a quick break.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Jack asked, throwing a glance at Farrier finally taking a seat.

“No thanks, you stay,” Genevieve assured.

She then excused herself from the table and those seated at it, heading over to the back garden’s entrance. Passing the notary leaving the function room opposite, Genevieve stepped outside. It was a pleasant little section enclosed in the centre of the building and completely empty. Stretching her arms upwards, Genevieve linked her fingers and cracked her knuckles upwards with a deep inhale. The smell of the flowers dotted about in pots soothed any other anxiety she felt in that moment.

“Sorry we’re late.”

Genevieve turned to the voice and saw Mr Dawson removing his hat with a smile as he finished, “I saw you heading out here. Thought I’d catch you.”

A little stunned and almost lost for words, Genevieve nodded. Then she found those words: “No worries. We’re just having drinks, would you like to join us?”

“No thank you. I’m driving. I don’t trust Peter with my car just yet.”

“Peter?” Then the man himself appeared as if he were waiting to be named dropped before making an appearance. Of course he wasn’t still wearing the red jumper she’d seen him in six years ago. He was dressed in a casual suit like his father, minus the hat, and he looked so much older.

“I should slap you for not writing back, you cheeky bastard,” She joked. Luckily, Peter saw the levity in her statement and his body language slacked into relaxation.

“How are you both?” She continued, “Still sailing?”

“Try and stop us, every weekend.” Peter looked to his dad to see if he had any input on the small talk. But Mr Dawson was looking indoors, through a window. Jack was rocking back and forth with laughter in his chair at something Karen had said across the table. Genevieve could see that no one else thought it so funny and that Jack didn’t care about that.

“I can go get him,” Genevieve offered but Mr Dawson cut her off.

“No, that’s alright.”

There were tears in the old man’s eyes and Genevieve suddenly remembered that Jack was RAF like Mr Dawson’s eldest son. She felt rather stupid for not recalling this sooner and fidgeted with her hands. Filling the silence, Peter cleared his throat.

“We can’t stay. We just wanted to come and say congratulations,” He tugged on his coat sleeve before stepping forward and offering his hand for her to shake. Instead, Genevieve opened her arms for a hug and Peter graciously accepted, though he had to bend over a little bit.

“You got taller, I swear,” She mumbled over his shoulder forgetting that he was only a few years younger than her.

“Skinnier, actually,” and there was a hint of a smile on his face when he pulled back.

“Yeah, well, make sure you eat your crusts,” Genevieve quoted her sister’s mantra to James, “Get some hairs on your chest.”

The smile widened as he backed away, moving towards the reception. Mr Dawson and Genevieve followed, a few feet behind him so that they could talk too.

“He rather fancied you,” Mr Dawson muttered with a sly smile.

“I won’t say anything,” Genevieve promised, “Is he alright though?”

“He’s doing very well.” Mr Dawson halted, looking like he was struggling to say something. Genevieve kept the silence a little longer to let him figure it out. Slowly he took Genevieve’s left hand in his then gave it a careful pat.

“I’m glad that, if anyone was to survive the war, it was you two.”

 Suddenly swamped with the possibility of crying, something she vowed not to do, Genevieve swallowed thickly, “You too. Thank you for coming.”

She walked with him through the reception and out the front, Peter at the far right side of the street where they were parked. Staying by the door, Genevieve watched them climb in. She didn’t notice Jack joining her side until he tapped her shoulder.

“You alright, love?”

“Just waving a guest off,” She said quietly. Jack followed her line of sight, brows furrowed until he saw Mr Dawson place his hat back on his head before getting into his car. The couple stared with one astonished expression and one of tearful happiness as the car pulled out and drove past their venue, honking the horn with an arm out the window waving at them.

“Let’s go back to our reception,” Genevieve said, taking his hand and leading the flabbergasted Jack indoors.

The rest of the day was a blur. At some point, Genevieve picked out a rosebud, free of thorns, from her bouquet and tucked it behind Jack’s ear. He was a little tipsy on the fact that it was his wedding – and the champagne that his brother Toby had ordered. He was giggling at James who was screwing up his face in disgust after a sip. The cake arrived and naturally Jack and Genevieve tossed each other pieces of cake into their respective mouths as opposed to smashing a piece onto their cheek. Farrier was all for that however and did it to both of them. James was about to join in but then the in-laws intervened, preventing an all out food fight.  

“Sweet like you,” Jack had said after kissing off some of the icing from Genevieve’s cheeks. So naturally, she licked his cheek in return.

The families dispersed once the cake was doled out and the newlyweds were shown to their room by the concierge who had brought their single bag up earlier for them. It was a beautiful room. A double bed in the centre, an en-suite to the side, it was lavish with plump pillows, oak furniture that all matched, and lit up with a soft yellow glow from lamps dotted about. Money well spent, even if it was just one night.

“So, I suggest we take all the complimentary shampoos and soaps and biscuits,” Genevieve took off one of her shoes and sighed in the relief she felt, free from its pinching grasp. Once the other shoe was off, she flopped on the bed and sighed again, smiling broadly at Jack who was lingering in the doorway, undoing his tie after hanging up his jacket.

“Come here, you,” She beckoned with a pat on the space beside her.

Doggedly, Jack quickly kicked off his shoes and tugged off his hose. He landed next to Genevieve with a little leap onto the bed. Her hand curled around to cup his face that was smiling back at her, especially as he felt the new addition of her wedding ring comfort his skin. She then wriggled closer, her cheek snuggled into his shoulder.

After tracing across her arm for a few moments quietude, Jack rested his hand atop hers and said softly, “I can only think of one instance where you’ve been more beautiful than you are now.”

“Oh yeah?” Genevieve said teasingly although her cheeks alerted Jack that she was flattered at such a remark. He hummed to draw it out a little before he decided to finish his thought.

“When I saw you for the first time after the war was over,” He said as his chest swelled with remembering their intense and joyous reunion, his smile aching on his face, “A sight for sore eyes if there ever was one. It felt like that again, when I saw you at the end of the aisle.”

For once, Genevieve didn’t tell him to shut up. Instead she pushed up and kissed him, short but sweet. She then sat up but kept her back to him, talking over her shoulder:

“Help me out of this please? I want to lie down comfortably with my husband.”

Jack let out an eager giggle, hoping that she would catch on that he liked when she called him “her husband”. Such a lovely title he never thought he would be appointed and yet here he was, helping his wife out of her wedding attire. Well. He was trying to help anyway.

“I love the polka dots but God there’s so many buttons!” He grunted, fingers fumbling over them in an attempt to release her.

“I know, it’s ridiculous,” Genevieve groaned, “There should be a hook on the dressing table.”

There was and it aided Jack in popping them out. Jack tensed as the dress slacked, contrasting with Genevieve’s sigh of relief. It wasn’t a very tight bodice but movement was heavily restricted in such a device. The sigh was clearly held in from the moment she put it on. The sigh was also very obvious in displaying the comfort she found with Jack. They shared baths, for goodness sake.

Jack suddenly leapt for the drawer, “Wait!” Then he yanked out an envelope, “Vows!”

Neither of them wanted to disclose these vows; they were personal and their families did not have to be witness for these vows to mean something. So they decided to include them in the wedding but when they were alone. Now.

Dress still holding most of its position against her body, Genevieve retrieved her own envelope from the plant pot and dusted off the soil that clung to it.

“You wanna go first or me?”

“You go first.”

Shuffling on his feet, Jack cleared his throat then spoke, “You make me so much better with your awful taste in tea and your quips so I vow to celebrate you every day, in ups and downs and whatever direction you feel you’re going, I’ll be there take make us the ultimate team.”

Then he said at a quicker pace, “I also vow to dance with you at least once a week because I know you secretly love it.”

Genevieve shook her head as it dropped, hiding the eye roll in sheepishness, “You cheated; we said one each.”

“I know but I can’t really pin down how I wanna treasure you in one single vow. You’re lucky that was the only two.”

Wrinkling her nose at him, Genevieve rubbed it against Jack’s that was screwed up in solidarity, “I love it, and I love you.”

“I love you too. Your turn!”

She copied his technique and coughed to ease the lump in her throat then started reading off the paper, “Something you told me a few months ago: ‘you are my normal.’ You do not know how much those words mean to me. It wasn’t really the moment I knew I loved you for there are plenty of those. It was the moment where I knew you were the one for me; you were as committed as I was in spite of everything. I vow to make you feel as safe and as loved as I did when you told me that, because you are my normal too.”

There were no words to say back to that. All Jack could muster was hugging Genevieve tightly. Their breathing synced up, grips loosened, emotions settling down, the couple found themselves swaying. It was a first dance they could both get behind. Until Jack started humming a nauseatingly familiar tune that made Genevieve laugh more as he spun her out with a dramatic flair.

“We have a radio!” She reminded him, “Not that I don’t appreciate your gorgeous vocal chords.”

“Ok, first song that plays will be our song.” Once in agreement, Jack side-stepped to the wireless and switched it on. After fiddling with the tuner for a few seconds, Genevieve sighed loudly whilst Jack beamed as the very same song began to play.

“I didn’t even plan that!” Jack squeaked with excitement, drawing back to his wife and offering his hand, “May I have the pleasure of the first dance with you?”

“You may,” Genevieve said with a sigh that was meant to come across as reluctant due to the song choice. However, it appeared more whimsical as if she was about to be swept off her feet. She settled for that; it was more accurate to how she felt.

Their foreheads connected as Genevieve placed her hands on Jack’s shoulders, his already on her waist. Kisses intermingled with soft laughter. A hand swept through Jack’s hair and Genevieve’s fingers then curled underneath the bootlace that held her old tags, toying with the knot that rested below the back of his hairline. His were still hanging around her neck. Her fingertips grazed the nape of his neck caused Jack to shiver with delight for at the back of his mind, near those fingertips, lingered a reminder of the final tradition of a wedding: the first evening together as husband and wife.

It was as if Genevieve could read his thoughts for she touched his face tenderly with concern in her expression and he leant into it, eyes closing at her gentle palm on his cheek

“You know we don’t have to do anything tonight. I know you love me and you know I love you. It’s not the be all and end all.”

“I know,” Jack said with a hint of relief as he opened his eyes, “But I want to. Do you want to?”

“I do too.”

“I-” He was cut off by Genevieve’s stomach gurgling loudly and she went a darker shade of pink as he commented: “Hungry?”

They giggled as Genevieve’s tummy gurgled some more to answer for her. She didn’t have to say it was nerves; they already knew that. To shut him up, Genevieve leaned over, switched off the wireless.

“Are you alright?” She asked. She needed to hear that he was alright, especially since he started staring past her for a moment.

“Sorry,” Jack excused when he came back to Earth, shaking his head a little. A strand of hair fell into his forehead as a memory of December came to mind. He fidgeted with the scratching material of his kilt as he glanced at the bed then back to Genevieve. There was a nervous laugh with his next sentence: “I only know what I’m doing in theory.”

“I’m with you there,” Genevieve said, taking his hands away from the wool.

It wasn’t that Jack expected her to be a virgin too but he was still a tad surprised at their shared experience, “So you’ve never…”

She shook her head, “No, not with a man.”

Ah. Jack nodded, accepting the connotations of that revelation, “That’s ok; I’ve never done it with a man either.”

The pair burst into giggles and suddenly it occurred to them that this didn’t have to be such a serious affair like every eavesdropped conversation or snippet of gossip had told them. It could be whatever they wanted. And all tension dropped from their bodies.

Leaning his forehead back against hers with an uncontrollable smile, his voice teeming with joy, Jack said, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” She replied, punctuating her words with kisses, “So. Damn. Much.”          

Lightheaded, Jack reciprocated. He tried to pull off his waistcoat, but he did so with such haste that he ended up getting his elbow stuck where his arm once was. Genevieve didn’t realise for a bit, simply petting his hair to placate his eagerness, but then she caught sight of his half T-Rex impression and start laughing again.

“You can slow down, my love,” She helped him out of his predicament, “Can’t rush these things.”

“I’m just excited,” Jack said, sounding ever so slightly out of breath.

“Me too.” Genevieve found herself experiencing the same symptoms as Jack started to unbutton his shirt, placing a hand on his chest as she continued, “But we have all night. All week.” Jack nodded, understanding what she meant. Honestly, he didn’t want to rush either. So he kissed her again, more gentle, appreciating the present moment where Genevieve was touching the sliver of skin available from his shirt’s now plunging neckline.

Taking a deep breath, Genevieve pulled away and held up the hook between their faces, “Now, get me out of this dress.”

Everything Tag: @tomgcsglasses and @scottishlowden

Dunkirk Tag: @lowdenglynnstyles, @kgcurtis30, @carneylowdenwhitehead, @theres-no-paradise, @blondeeee-e, @luleraina, @starryrevelations and @orphan-with-a-stutter

Jack Lowden Tag: @musicallisto, @adriennelenoir, @lowdensnose, @from-the-clouds, @johannalauraaa​ and @lowdenfanpage

Complementary Tag: @you-are-the-first-dream, @disneydirectioner, @lavidademarimar, @sweetsugarhoneyfics and @prettyboytgc

[formlesscopycat]

1--50 because I always like learning more bout you guys :PPPPP for xxx, maybe your favorite fic? Or Distance of the Falling Sun :D

Thanks for making me answer all the asks, I really enjoyed doing this, a jog down the memory lane is always beautiful. Also, this gives me a chance to make up for misunderstanding RuRu’s prior request (so sorry, babe).

1) How old were you when youfirst started writing fanfiction?

I started writing headcanonsin my native language when I was 12; I posted my first fic when I was 15.

2) What fandoms do you writefor and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one?

I’ve written for FinalFantasy VIII (Seinoa, Seifistis), Slam Dunk (SenRu), Lovely Complex (OtaRisa),Kimi no Todoke (Kazehaya/Kuronama) and Wallflower (SunaKyo). I’m currentlywriting for the love of AoKise (Kuroko no Basuke).

3) Do you prefer writing OC’sor reader inserts? Explain your answer.

I prefer OCs. I find readerinserts kinda weird.

4) What is your favouritegenre to write for?

Romantic comedies.

5) If you had to choose afavourite out of all of your multi chaptered stories, which would it be andwhy?

Love is a Scheme (forWallflower fandom) is my fave multi-chapter that I’ve written. One is becauseI’ve managed to finish writing it and two, it has all my favorite elements:denial of feelings, enemies to lovers, love confessions, meddling friends. Ihad so much fun writing that story and readers have loved it, too.

6) If you had to delete oneof your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why?

Perhaps that lame attempt ata songfic I wrote for Final Fantasy VIII fandom, ugh. No particular plot andinfused with bad grammar. But no matter how much I cringed at my earlierstories, I can’t bring myself to delete them because I still come back to thesefics sometimes if just to see how much I’ve grown as a writer over the years.

7) When is your preferredtime to write?

Daytime.

8) Where do you take yourinspiration from?

Poetry, quotes, metaphors,old songs. Also, from personal experience, sometimes.

9) Inyour [Distance of the Falling Sun] fic, what’s your favourite scene that youwrote?

Two.

The two of them are idiots in love, this, Kise is sure. He lifts hishead and meets Aomine’s face with a smile. Happiness sweeps across Aomine’sfeatures too, as he thumbs softly on the skin under Kise’s eyes, wiping awayhis tears.

“If only you told me sooner,” Aomine tells him with a smirk, theirfaces only inches away from each other.

“Excuse me, but you should’ve said something too.” Kise shoots back.

“Are we bickering again?”

“We’re not.”

(My fave scene because itfeels authentic AoKise, dorkos snapping at each other right after confession>.

10) Inyour [DotFS] fic, why did you decide to end it like that? Did you have analternative ending in mind?

There’s supposed to be a“Zero”, because the prompt is actually, “write a story with a countdown from 10to 0″. I tried to push for it but my sentences refuse to work out so I ended itat one.

11) Have you ever amended astory due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it?

I haven’t.

12) Who is your favouritecharacter to write for? Why?

Currently, it’s Aomine.Ironically, I don’t like him at first but now, I’m totally captivated by thischild, my heart is his. I think he has the best character development in KnB,with that gripping heart-wrenching backstory. I find it easy to write his tendencies and basicways. He’s flawless but at the same time, flawed in so many ways. If I peeloff his layers, I always find wonderful gems. I like going through the heads of flawed characters.

13) Who is your leastfavourite character to write for? Why?

Um, none.

14) Howdid you come up with the title for the [Distance of the Falling Sun]? - You canask about multiple stories.

I wanted to play with metaphors,heh. ‘Distance’ because Kise is chasing after Aomine, always yearning forAomine’s affections and he thinks Aomine is beyond his reach. ‘Falling Sun’because this is really about Kise, ‘burning’ with unrequited feelings.

15) If you write OC’s, how doyou decide on their names?

I take the names of myfavorite characters from other fandoms. For example, in my fic, Where YouBelong, Kise’s father is named ‘Takenaga’, he’s actually from the anime,Wallflower. Aomine’s mom will be named ‘Sayuri’, from Memoirs of a Geisha. Ialso employ the help of Google, to see if the meanings behind the names Ichoose will actually fit my OC.

16) Howdid you come up with the idea for [DotFS]?

I chanced on the prompt onTumblr and immediately, the angst muse overwhelmed me. Also, this doujin. Ijumped on the ‘unrequited love’ theme because it’s something that I personallyexperienced. With this fic, it’s structure first before the plot instead ofvice-versa and that came as a big challenge, I never thought I’d write it down.I only have the shaky idea for ten, three and one but how to fill in the rest,I don’t even know. Months after, the muse have shown mercy.

17) Post a line from a WIPthat you’re working on.

Waiting–he’s done enough of it to endure through its pain, a furnacerefining his patience like silver into flame.

(From ‘Worth the Wait’, anattempt at RinHaru, Idek.)

18) Do you have any abandonedWIP’s? What made you abandon them?

I’ve two. One is an AoKise. Ijust felt like there’s something lacking with the plot and I tried to think ofways to patch things up but sadly, nothing ever seemed to work. It upsets metoo, that I suddenly lost the interest to finish it because I’ve already hit6,000+ words.

19) Are there any storiesthat you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?

I want to do a sequel for IHear You through these Walls, the Kise side of the story, what he thinks of hiscute neighbor next door and what really happened between him and Haizaki.

Worst Birthday Ever – theAomine and friends part as they plan for Kise’s birthday. While WBE has lightangst, The Making of the Best Birthday Ever will be full of bickering idiots.And a little Aominecchi guiltrip (because of the phone call) will be explored in the sequel.

Rest is for the Weak – Aominecaught the flu because of the kiss. He puts the blame on Kise and  demands for Kise to care for him, too. It’smostly Aho having the time of his life, supremely enjoying Kise’sattention.  

20) Are there any storiesthat you wished you’d ended differently?

In that first fic I’vewritten, the MCs used to be lovers. They had a shot at being together again butin the end, they chose differently and still went their separate ways. I wishthey’ve been together.

21) Tell me about anotherwriter(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

There are so many but I’ll gowith these writers whose stories I always come back to, again and again:

Ashbear (FFVIII, Squinoa) –Writes with superior plot and superior characterization. She’s my childhoodfanfic hero. A decade later, I still find myself re-reading her stories, and onsome occasions, I still leave a comment, a plea, hoping she’ll finish‘Somewhere in Between’.  

Aki Midori (Slam Dunk, SenRu)– I always go back to her deathfics like a deranged masochist. Her storieseffin hurts like hell but so, so addictive.

For KnB, there are too manybut I’m all for these amazecakes authors:

Beautiful Thief (AoKise) – Iowe it to her fics which nurtured and nourished the AoKise monster in me duringits infancy.

DigimonDestined (AoKise) –she weaves beautiful imagery with her words, I’m weak for her rich descriptionsthat put me right into the heart of the situation and into the big mood.

dawnstruck (AoKise) – shewrites with short sentences but her writing style has this magical allure to itthat drives all the feels home.

Himi (KagaKise) – writes withlovely, complicated and realistic emotions that are eye-opening and gutwrenching.

22) Do you have a story thatyou look back on and cringe when you reread it?

The first two fics I’vewritten. It’s a wonder how readers have endured and managed to leave some nicewords.

23) Do you prefer listeningto music when you’re writing or do you need silence?

Hush, I need Silence.

24) How do you feel aboutwriting smutty scenes?

I haven’t tried, heh, andjust thinking about it makes me uncomfortable primarily because I can’t bringto words something that I have very little knowledge and experience of. I maytry to do some research but I don’t think it’ll come as authentic if my heart’snot really into it. I can insinuate love making but to go into the territories ofexplicit, I’ll have to pass ;D Even as a reader, I shy away from E-ratedstories. When I make rare exceptions, I skip the smut or I don’t dwell too longon these parts of the story. I’m pretty much contented with my ships being allkissy-kissy and touchy-feely when they get physical.

25) Have you ever criedwhilst writing a story?

Yes, because I can’t describea scene that’s just so vivid in my head. I see my words and shat, I want toshoot myself.

26) Which part of your [DotFS]fic was the hardest to write?

Eight, Seven, Four. At four,dammit, I’m almost done! Something has to be written, something has to work.Luckily, four walls of the empty room, heh.

27) Do you make a generaloutline for your stories or do you just go with the flow?

I make a general outline, Ineed to see the full picture before I get myself invested in a plot. I workwith tunnel vision, slowly from the ground up. There has to be a working title,too, before I get past 500 words.

28) What is something youwished you’d known before you started posting fanfiction?

That consistency in verbtenses matter.

29) Do you have a story thatyou feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

I would want all of mystories to get so much love heh, but setting aside my weaknesses as a writer, I’vealways been drawn to small, semi-active or defunct fandoms so my expectationsaren’t really that high…As long as I’m getting some, I’ve been happy with thelove I get.

30) In contrast to 29 isthere a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?

I’ve breached lewd levels withMy Favorite Costume but then, I’m glad it got nice loving from readers.

31) Send me a ficrecommendation and I’ll post it for my followers to see! (The asker is to sendthe rec not the answerer)

I’ve never been happier, thatyou enjoyed DotFS. You want angst and Teiko!Aokise, I’m stoked when the ideahit me, I can finally gift you a fic that you might actually like.

32) Are any of yourcharacters based on real people?

Some scenes are loosely basedon first hand experiences.

33) What’s the biggestcompliment you’ve gotten?

“Your storytelling is impeccablysubtle; you show but don’t tell. As I was reading, I could see everything in mymind as if I was there with the characters and living through them. The littleshock at the end was bloody brilliant.”

This comment is quite memorable andimportant to me because it’s for the first-ever angsty-fangsty story I’vewritten way back when (for Final Fantasy VIII fandom (my first love)), withonly 600 words. I was young, had just started writing and simply doing it because I deeply love the characters. This comment made me so happy years ago,and had sparked a bigger desire in my young-once heart to put my ideas intowords and throw ‘em all out there for people to see.

34) What’s the harshestcriticism you’ve gotten?

The reader said that she was terriblydisappointed with the ending I had. She said she followed the story with highhopes but the ending just, meh.

Well, I was young, it’s formy first fanfic and I’ve written all chapters of it before I posted so I’m notreally that open to changes and suggestions. But looking back, yes, reader wasdefinitely right, the ending sucked.

35) Do you share your storyideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest?

Close to my chest. I’m notreally that confident with the things in my head, I mostly feel I’m getting judged when I share my ideas.

36) Can you give us a spoilerfor one of your WIP’s?

In Where You Belong, therewill be a scene where they celebrate Kise’s birthday and everyone but Aho gothim a gift.

37) What’s the funniest storyyou’ve written?

Maybe, Rest is for the Weak?You said Aomine was strangely acting like a mother hen in that one.

38) If you could collab withany other writer on here, who would it be? (Perhaps this question will inspiresome collabs!) If you’re shy, don’t tag the blog, just name it.

I’d love to work with any ofthe friendos in the AoKise~ discord.

39) Do you prefer first,second or third person?

Third person. I like tellingstories through the bird’s eye view, it gives me a lot of control.

40) Do people know you writefanfiction?

For sure, my mom will disownme if she finds out about the things I write. Only two people in real life knewthat I do fanfics. I told one friend during high school and a cousin who is somuch into anime accidentally found out.

41) What’s your favouriteminor character you’ve written?

Ranmaru (Wallflower) in Loveis a Scheme. With his charms, he successfully made his friend jealous out ofhis wits which resulted into an awkward confession.

42) Song fic - What made youdecide to use the song xxx for xxx.

I only wrote 1 songfic forthe heck of it. The song was very popular at that time

43) Has anyone ever guessedthe plot twist of one of your fics before you posted it?

I haven’t encountered suchcomments from my readers..

44) What is the last line youwrote?

Can’t you see how he looks atour Ryou-chan like he’s looking at fireworks?

45) What spurs you on duringthe writing process?

Thinking I’m getting closerto fluffy, lovey-dovey scenes gets me going. The fluff scenes are my ‘checkpoint’,my pit-stop for every leg of the writing journey.

46) Ireally loved your [Distance of the Falling Sun] fic. If you were ever to do asequel, what do you think might happen in it?

Hey, thank you for the love!If there will be a sequel, it will be a countdown beginning from 1 to 10, set10 years into the future, in Aomine’s POV as he recalls the ups and downs, thejoys and pains of his beautiful relationship with Kise.

47) Here’s afic title – [The man who never lied (or morelike, what would a story inspired by that song be about? :D)]. Whatwould this story be about? (from Ruru’s ask too)

Mmm. Ok, first, I love Maroon 5 and ADAM LEVINE! I’ll write an AoKiserunning along these lines: What Kise would give up for Aomine to achieve hisdreams… What Aomine would give up just to keep Kise’s love. Or, Aomine is tornbetween choosing to follow his dreams of becoming an NBA player or keeping thelove of his life. On the premise that he can’t have both because real life islike that… you can’t be thoroughly happy XD

(Because I’ve read a lot ofstories wherein Ao gets to be NBA star and gets Kise too. Not that I don’tthink he deserves all the joys of this life, but I want to explore this Ao whogets to give up his dreams for Kise. Ofc, I’ll make him choose love overdreams, heh.)

48) What’s your favouritetrope to write?

Enemies to lovers.

49) Can you remember thefirst fic you read? What was it about?

Yes, I do. Its title is Giftof Love (FFVIII fandom). It’s inspired by O’Henry’s The Gift of the Magi. Lotsof angst and fluff in the end.

50)If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life,which would it be and why?

Angst. I love writing journeys that explorethe depths of human emotions and I think there’s no better way than angst tobring me there. But with happy endings. Always with happy endings. Because thatis the whole point of my shipping, to see my children struggle in the midst ofthe storm, turbulent waters raging all around, and see them dock safe and soundto happy couple-land.

[baka-monarch]

What if I finally wrote my FNAF OC's backstory from middle school after 3-5 years? (I kinda abandoned her after all that time)

Cecile was the top of her class in college, already finding new ways to code and engineer robotics even though school had just started a few months ago. She was several classes ahead of her peers from the college classes she had in high school, classes that even surpassed her older brother.

Cecile and her brother had a loving family, but like most parents, there were still favorites. Originally it had been her brother, since their parents thought that she could never succeed due to her autism. At least, it was him until Cecile started getting contacted by colleges and certificates due to her being smarter than what was average.

It didn't take long for her brother to become jealous.

Recently, in one of her robotics classes, a man by the name of Henery Emily had come to teach their class a few things about his animatronics he had build for Fredbear's Family Diner. When her brother heard about this, he got an...idea. One that was inspired by the disappearances of many children there.

So he git a job for the day shift there. Entertaining children, making pizzas, cleaning....the ball pit. All for one goal.

...

Cecile had known her brother had a job at Fredbear's for a while now and was always asking him questions about the animatronics, the games, everything. It was so...fasinating to her. She just wanted to know how it all worked!

So when he told her that he'd take her backstage and let her study the suits. She called in sick to school, canceled all her plans, and made sure to show up early to Fredbear's to have lunch with him.

As Cecile walked into the diner, she had a huge smile that would be impossible for anyone to erase.

"Heyyy, Cecile, your just in time. I'm about to go on break." Her brother said as he approached.

"Good! I hope I wouldn't get here too late!" She rushed through her words as she bounced on the balls of her feet with excitement.

"Calm down, lil' sis. Let me clock out first, then you nerd the fuck out." He chuckled as he headed to the back to clock out. Cecile excitedly sat at a booth to wait. Well, try to wait. This was just so exciting! Not even the Henery Emily let her class even approach the suit he brought.

"Alright, you ready?" She jumped as her brother's voice surprised her. She had been distracted by her thoughts of Nuts and Bolts. She attempted to respond but just couldn't get the words out so she just nodded vigorously instead. He chuckled again, then pulled a key out of his pocket. "Follow me." He lead her through several hallways and past many party rooms. All the way to the back. "Here it is." He said as he stopped in front of a blank wall.

"Where?" She glanced around. "There's nothing here?"

"Oh, but isn't there?" He inserted the key into a slot in the wall that she hadn't seen before. After he turned it, he pulled on the wall revealing a door that lead to a secret room where there seemed to be several unassembled animatronic parts and one fully built prototype one. She looked into the room with her mouth agape. It was so amazing! "Well?" Her brother jestered in.

"Oooohhhhh, hell yes." Cecile quickly entered the room, her brother pulling the door closed and locking it behind them. "What is this room?" She leaned over the and messed with a few of the mechanisms in curiosity.

"It's one of the safe rooms." He explained. "They're hidden and soundproofed from the rest of the restaurant, with only a few people knowing about them."

"And you have access to them?"

"No, Mr. Afton just forgot to hide the key in his office one day." He pocketed the key casually, knowing it unwise to mention that this was the only key and the disturbing suit he'd found in here the first time...the same one that gave him his idea.

"Awesome." She breathed as the started messing with the plating on the suit laying there. "Hm...interesting..."

"What?"

"This suit. It isn't like the other ones...it has metal plating, and...skin? Wait, no it's synthetic!" She peeled some back. "Amazing..." Even the hair on this one looked real like it was made to look more human.

"What's that?" Her brother asked, pointing over her shoulder at a small, coin-like, chip.

"I don't know, I've never seen technology like this. I can't even tell how someone would put this on..." She mumbled. Those words were almost like a que to her brother as he smirked.

"Well, I do." He maneuvered around the table to be in view of his sister. "And I can show you. How would you like to wear a Fedbear Family Animatronic?" That got his sister's full attention.

"Really? You can let me do that?" Cecile's eyes sparkled at the idea.

"Of course I can, you don't see any of my bosses around do you?" He smiled.

"Show me how to put it on."

...

A few moments later Cecile was encapsulated by the prototype suit. To finish the effect she had even figured out how to turn on the chip, giving the suit the full illusion of being human.

"This is amazing!" She looked at herself. "It's like being in another body! Not only that but the spring locks appear to be more secure on this suit than the other ones!" She exclaimed excitedly.

"Spring locks?" Her brother questioned.

"Yeah, the parts that are cracked back to stop the mechanical parts from harming the person wearing it." She explained. Then looked at her brother. "I... Thought you knew that. If you work here." She wondered aloud.

"Oh, I do know that." He smiled. "I just wondered if you know how... Deadly they can be." His eyes gleamed as a certain unsettling smirk found its way onto his face.

"Yes... The-the failures of them can be fatal." Her brother took a step towards her and she instinctively took one back.

"What's wrong? 'Lil sis?" He got even closer, that sickening smirk growing into a terrifying smile. "Scared?"

"No..." Despite what's he said, she took another step back.

"Ya know if I remember correctly, one of the easiest ways to deactivate the spring locks is by starting with the ones on the neck, right?" He wrapped his hands around the collar of the chest plate making her gasp.

"J-Ja-" As she tried to say his name she ended up cutting herself off as he pulled the spring locks and she screamed. Cecile collapsed to the floor as the mechanisms began to dig painfully into her skin. The pressure was so much more than any pressure she had felt before that she was soon losing consciousness.

As darkness surrounded her vision, she looked up. All she could see was her brother's smiling face.

...

When Cecile came to she was behind the diner in one of the dumpsters. As she looked down all she saw of herself was a bloodied mangle of wires and metal.

Nearby was a toolbox and the coin like chip from before.

It was a good thing she had gone to school for engineering.

[scream-for-help]

A Very Avengers Christmas

Warnings: is this angsty? Most likely OOC

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve and the Avengers are gathered at Stark Tower for the annual Christmas party and the greatest Christmas present is just outside the door.

A/N: I cannot for the life of me write reader insert, I have to picture a character in my head for it to work, so of course we have an OC.  Also, this doesn’t take place at any particular time in the MCU.

At 7:30 on a Tuesday Tony Stark’s annual Christmas party was in full swing. Every Avenger or person involved with the Avengers was on the top floor of Stark Tower; it was close to standing room only, the only thing that kept it from being that way is that every so often people would go out onto the balcony to see the best view of New York.  Constant movement was the savior of the party, that and what Tony liked to claim was his unlimited supply of ‘refreshments’.

The party was the same as every year before; the entire tower was decorated with garlands and streamers, trees and wreathes. At the center of the party was a lit fireplace (to make the place look more cozy) and yet another tree. To say that Tony Stark liked Christmas was an understatement. He had been preparing for this party since the last one. Not only was it a great chance to give to people, it was also a chance to reconnect with those he hadn’t seen in a while- possibly since last Christmas.

Whilst the party seemed to be just like that of the years before, one uninvited guest proved that it would be far from normal. There was a suspicious young girl carrying a pizza box that managed to sneak past security quietly sneaking up the back stairs to the floor right below the party. To get there, she would take an elevator, and make her entrance. It would be easy, except that she didn’t seem to factor in tons of people who are skilled at hand to hand combat and could kill you with one blow. People who are all looking at the elevator that just dinged- because everyone else is already at that party.

“Anybody order pizza?” The girl said, putting her free hand up.

“We didn’t order any pizza kid,” slowly emerging from the crowd, it became clear who the voice belonged to. The host of the party, Tony Stark, the person the girl was looking for.

“Oh really? I could’ve sworn I got an order here for a one, Mr. Stark, from his daughter.” The young girl kept straight face through her entire bluff.

“You must be mistaken, I don’t have a daughter.”

“Good, cause I don’t have a pizza.”

“Well you better have a good reason for being here then.”

“I do.”

“Well? What is it?”

The girl looked around nervously, “Can we talk somewhere more privately?”

“I suppose, but this better be good.”

  After leading the girl down a flight a through several halls to a private office, the two were finally settled.

“So, what’s so important that you needed to tell me in private?”

“Well, first of all, my name is Nicole, and everything else you need to know is on this piece of paper,” Nicole shoved a piece of paper into the man’s hand.

“Is this a court ordered paternity test?”

“Yup, but I don’t need it to be court ordered. Your DNA is everywhere, so guess what I did in my free time?”

“You didn’t.” He shook his head in disbelief.

Handing him another piece of paper, Nicole crossed her arms over her chest triumphantly. “I did. You wouldn’t believe what doctors are willing to do for a pretty penny, give them some random persons DNA and ask them to do a paternity test,” she shrugged. “It’s like taking candy from a baby.”

“This could easily be a forgery.” He stared at it a while longer before he began pacing the floor. “Vision!”

Vision phased through the floor, causing the young girl to jump. “Yes, Mr. Stark?”

“Can you check to see if this is fake?” Tony handed, or rather threw the test at him.

It didn’t take long for Vision to determine that the test was indeed legitimate. “I’m sorry sir, but I believe that this is your daughter.”

“But how?”

“I think Sir-“

“I know the specifics Vision.” Stark said. He shook his head as if to make some long lost answer drop from his brain. “What I don’t know is how this kid-” he said the word with such venom, “could be mine. I was careful, and every girl I’ve ever, you know, I’ve kept tabs on just to make sure that this doesn’t happen!”

“Well of course, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropists, they don’t need to remember people like my mother, people who spend every day of their lives working dead end jobs to make ends meet and not getting to spend a cent of it on themselves. Face it; it’s all because of the cards they were dealt. They don’t get a chance to better themselves. So what’s one night?” At this point Nicole was regretting her decision to confront her father. She knew this would happen, but it still hurt like she couldn’t have imagined.

“What’s her name?” Tony’s voice was soft.

“Jennifer. My mother’s name is Jennifer Johansson.”

The two looked at each other for a moment, trying to see if there was any recognition at all, but the moment was soon gone. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember anyone by that name.”

“Of course you don’t. No one remembers my mom, my mom just worked for the rich and no matter how many times you’d say, JJ go clean this, or go scrub that-“

“Wait, did you say JJ?”

“Yeah.”

“JJ, she used to help clean my parents place and I would joke that she was too young to be a maid, and she would always tell me that she started because her mom owned the company.” All of a sudden Stark’s face lit up, he couldn’t believe that he had forgotten such a fun part of his life, his best friend for years who he would often joke was his guardian angel because she would get him out of trouble. “One night in 1993, she disappeared, she left her letter of resignation in my mailbox and I never saw her again. I don’t know why, I remember her reason though, ‘I am uncomfortable in my workspace and feel that I am no longer fit to so my job’. After a while I didn’t question it. “

“It’s because she was pregnant with me.”

“I can see she was pregnant with you. Or well, had you- I mean- UGH!” Stark threw his hands up in the air admitting defeat.

“I know what you mean.”

“I still don’t quite know why you’re here.”

“I’m your daughter and it’s Christmas, don’t daughters usually spend their Christmas with their dads?” Nicole smiled at the fact that she had finally called him her father.

“Well, I guess you’re right. It’s Christmas and I have to share this with my daughter, and of course everyone at the party.”

 The party had continued without its host, but no one failed to notice as he and the young intruder walked through the elevator doors.

“Hey, Tony, so you’re letting the kid stay?” Steve Rogers asked as he approached Stark and Nicole.

“Yes, in fact. Can you get everyone in here for a second?” Tony asked, as he started to pull himself up onto the bar.

Once everyone was in the room, Tony cleared his throat and began, “So, as you all know, every year, I have a party to gather everyone together, and I do this, not only to get my colleagues all in once place, but to remind everyone that we all need to come back to home base once in a while, we all need to come back and see each other, catch up and see what’s going on. Sometimes that means we need to connect with new people we didn’t know joined our ranks, or to make new friends, but overall, we need to remember who made us- well, us. Now I’m sure you’re all just dying to know-“

“WAS THERE ANY PIZZA IN THAT PIZZA BOX?”

“No Peter, there wasn’t any pizza. Anyways, I’m sure that you’re all dying to know who that was that came into our little private affair.” Tony took a second to step as much to the side of the bar as he could and then gestured to Nicole to get up on the bar. After slipping a few times, Steve lifted Nicole off of the ground and onto the bar. “This everyone, is Nicole Johansson, she is my daughter- wow it feels good to say that to you all- anyways, she has come to here to share Christmas with me, and therefore all of you. Please, make her feel welcome.”

A/N: I know this is probably not as good as I hoped, I spent so much time writing this and usually I can crank these things out… man I have become rusty, or maybe it’s a sign that I’m becoming more quality over quantity. Anywhozzle, please like, or reblog, or whatever, it tells me that you like my work and that I should continue doing this.

[pacman-tattoo]

All even? O:

under the cut since it got long

2. Favorite part of writing.

idk. maybe just being able to share a vision while also letting other people imagine things as they want? if that makes sense???

4. Do you have writing habits or rituals?

mmm….. i guess sometimes i’ll play certain songs/albums?

as in i basically listen to bmc on repeat sometimes when i’m stuck

6. Favorite character you ever created.

:0 i love jaden!!! my son!!! a good boy

other than that, i rly loved writing charlotte and joanne when i wrote countdown even tho they weren’t too prominent since they weren’t the main focus

8. Favorite trope to write.

can i count the new kid in school as a trope

thats a trope tho right

that one

i like it.

10. Pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about.

can i say i’d write a romance book with literally anyone that i’m mutuals w/ that write????

or any book. romance would be the best option imo but i’d be down for anything

12. How do you deal with self-doubts?

i dont

i technically bottle them up and they they overflow at fuck me up but

uh. alright so.

whenever i start having self-doubts about writing, sometimes i’ll just kinda… leave my writing alone for a while? like, sometimes i’ll end up taking a step back and basically seek some validation somewhere else maybe talk it out with someone else?

other than that, i’ll either push myself to keep writing since it’ll distract me from my doubts.

14. What’s the most research you ever put into a book?

i was about to say something else but.

alright.

countdown. that one rich soulmate fic?

i literally found what would have been the hospital rich was at (it wasn’t a hospital, but it shared the name), figured out how long it would take to get there and back by train, looked up train schedules + ticket prices, and basically how to get to the medical center from one of the train stations there

that’s the first thing that came to mind tbh. i’ve probably done more in the past but idk

18. What’s your revision or rewriting process like?

nonexistent.

ok no it’s more of me glimpsing over my writing before posting it

20. Post a snippet of a WIP you’re working on.

kk. from my poly fic:

       A week later and you’re already buried in your work. The contents of your room have practically been shoved into the closet as you invested all your time into each little detail in each costume. You spent your days either working on small details while in different classes, spray painting shoes during drama, or scribbling in answers to homework due the next period (or day, if you were lucky), courtesy of Christine. If you had a chance, you’d crash on the small, cheap couch in the drama room for a bit, and then you were back home and sewing and (rarely) burning your fingers on hot glue.

       It was hell, but it was worth it.

there u go.

22. How many drafts do you need until you’re satisfied and a project is ultimately done for you?

ok it legit depends. usually my first draft is the draft since almost everything i post on this account is a rough draft tbh (which is also the reason why i get so much writing done tbh)

which sucks because you babes deserve so much better tbh i still dont see why you guys follow me if u want me to be honest

but anyway

i’ll usually rewrite something once or twice if it doesn’t stick the very first time. (aka this is what’s going on with control pt.2)

24. Poetry or prose, and why?

prose. im bad at poetry + im not a huge fan of poetry in general so :/

26. Standalone or series, and why?

probably standalone stuff, but series can be good sometimes. mainly standalone because i don’t have to really consider another part - most of the stuff that i wrote more than one part for i actually didn’t plan for a second part

stuff like Fish Out of Water and Control were things i kinda knew i’d have more than one part once i finished em

30. Favorite line you’ve ever written.

it’s not a single line but the i love you from michael at the end of Third Wheel

i think about it since it’s such a sweet, simple line tbh?

34. Handwritten notes or typed notes?

typed bc my handwriting is b a d

36. A spoiler for story _________.

Control Pt.2:

get ready for some shit to haunt you.

also, being sick can honestly build some bonds between ppl. nothing like texting each other complaining about being sick as fuck.

38. Have you shared your outline of your story ________ with someone? If so, what did they think of it?

i’ve shared my christine fic plans with scott!! he found the idea cute

plus i shared a michael fic idea with lucky and they basically pushed me to write it (since i was kinda :/ about writing it??? they basically made me decide to so

42. How do you figure out your characters looks, personality, etc.

for my ocs that i don’t rly talk about here: i usually draw their personality, looks, ect. from a single idea. jaden came from me wanting to write a more bookish character. welton came from the idea of me wanting to make a gamer, essentially. sachiyo came from a self insert and evolved from there.

for the ocs that i put in my fics: i don’t really have concrete looks for them - you guys can imagine them however you want! sometimes i might reference them twirling hair around their finger or a tattoo or dimples or something - but for the most part, you guys can legit imagine them however. personality usually draws from what the reader needs, in a sense?

44. Best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.

i dont even know tbh

46. What would your story _______ look like as a tv show or movie?

uhhh

i have a Really old project called To Perdition and Back which follows a man named Carson as he and his team basically saves ppl from a sort of purgatory???

it would basically deal with his personal struggle. he had an affair with ivan, a man at his work who died during one of their expeditions - and the fact his wife is basically never there for him or his kids, which causes a bit of a strain on the family itself.

the tv show would basically follow carson + his team tbh? plus there’d be subtle hints leading toward the fact that (spoiler) ivan isn’t dead.

the plan is that the show also has representation tbh??? i’ll talk more about it if anyone’s curious.

48. Favorite genre to write in.

uhhh romantic shit.

52. How did writing change you?

idk it basically helped me develop a coping mechanism in a way???

[donaldresslerfanfic]

Samar Navabi.

Rating: M

Warnings: Strong Language (little bit)

Word Count: 2096

Donald Ressler X OC Maggie Waters.

Chapter: Nineteen

Chapter Index

Story on Wattpad

Maggie.

Raymond had suddenly showed up at my workplace, accompanied with Dembe and a tall woman, curly black hair.

“So glad to see you’re still here Maggie. Paul said he might have to let you go but I’ve assured your stay here, we’re still not done”

He sat at the chair I had for clients, I frowned a little at all this information. My boss wanted to fire me? And who was she?

“I’m lost here can I have a briefing?” I said looking at Raymond, waiting for him to explain.

“This is Agent Navabi, she’s joined the task force and-”

“Ah, it’s you” I said looking at her with a little smile “the one that has Ressler all annoyed”

“Because of the whole ‘Capturing Reddington’ thing?” she said, also smiling.

“Yeah, he was quite pissed you beat him by 1750 exact days”

Samar gave me another proud smile, I looked at Raymond again to make him continue.

“Samar will lend her expertise to you. I can’t afford you being a victim again.”

“In that we agree” I said serious.

Even though I had spent two days at Donald’s place after the whole attack I was still outgunned and very much vulnerable, I didn’t wanted to be like this, the damsel in distress.

“Perfect, Samar will contact you regularly so be sure to have spare time”

I nodded and gave Samar a thankful look.

It was fun training and learning stuff with Samar, we spent time at the gym where I learned some basic combat technics, I had been doing personal defense and I wasn’t completely helpless, I managed to knock her out of balance a few times.

A week after that we moved to gun training where she taught me the basics, arming and disarming the gun, general maintenance and practice in a shooting range. With the stuff I learned from Dembe plus this, by the time we finished that week I maintained the shots in the second inner circle, to which Samar assured me it was great.

First thing in the morning she had showed up and she handcuffed me and handed me a paper clip, told me to lockpick my way out. My phone rung in my coffee table and it was then that she learned about Donald.

“I didn’t know that you were close friends with Ressler. Are you two dating?”

“No, I wish” I complained and tried to hit the spot with the little metal in my hand.

“He’s different from everyone I’ve worked for. He’s…. Stiff”

“Well, if you’ve had a leg almost blown off my a shotgun blast, a fiancé killed right in front of you and your team be cut down by half by a psychopath then I’ll be a bit bitter too” I defended.

“He hasn’t made any moves on you?”

“No, he’s been acting weird lately though” I concentrated because I thought I had it, but then it slipped.

I sighed in frustration and gave the cuffs a tug.

“My hands are cramming” I complained. Still, I went at it again.

“He had a leg almost broken… Right?”

“Yeah, by a shotgun blast” I replied, focused. I almost had it.

“And you’ve noticed this mood changes recently? What about peripheral vision? Reflexes?”

It came to mind when I said 'think fast’ to Don while I threw him a can of soda. A can he didn’t catch and ended up exploding in my floor because of the pressure. We laughed, I shrugged it off and that was it. But I knew what Samar was implying.

“You’ve met Donald for two weeks, I’ve known him for almost two years. Does he drink to much sometimes? Yes, but one when he knows he doesn’t have to work the next day. He’s not the kind of person that falls for something so banal as a pain killer addiction”

“He had a recent loss”

“Like 5 months ago”

“That’s not an excuse”

“Listen” I said, now more than annoyed “don’t you think if he had an addiction he would’ve told me?”

“No, I don’t think he would, it would be embarrassing for him to admit it, and it would make you disappointed in him”

“I wouldn’t be disappointed I would be sad” I concentrated in the cuffs and I got them out in a simple movement, just like Samar had when she showed me. “Here have your stupid-”

Before I could continue she cuffed me again, I looked at her dumbfounded. She showed me her phone where she had set a timer.

“You took twenty minutes, if this was a real life situation you would be dead five times over. Do it in less than two and we’ll stop”

I looked at my wrists again and siighed, they were red and I’m sure they will be purple tomorrow. Since we’re in the middle of spring I couldn’t use long sleeves.

“Tic tac” she said while I looked at the timer. I got to work quickly.

“He doesn’t have a pain killer addiction.”

“No, he has an Oxy addiction. Is an opioid and he likes the high. This is not the first time an agent would get an addiction after a major injury and it won’t be the last.”

I made it when she finished the sentence and handed the cuffs to her, I rubbed my wrists with my hands and sighed. I guess I could cover them with some bracelets.

“You can tell people you’ve got a kinky boyfriend” she said after a little wink. I shook my head and looked down at the phone.

It was way before my usual wake up call, but Don was already up and running and was now calling me. I took the phone and picked up

“Hey” I saluted.

“Texted you earlier to let you know I was bringing you coffee earlier since you don’t have to work today”

“I saw the message but I went to sleep again I’m sorry” I lied

“Well, splash some water I’m a block away”

“Got it” I hung up and looked at Samar “He’s coming, you should go” I stood up and headed to my bedroom to slip on my sneakers.

“Does he come here to have breakfast with you every morning?”

“We used to have it in a café before we went to work. Unfortunately, with this whole Raymond deal my boss put me in ambulatory work. I don’t go to the office anymore. It was getting hard for him to explain HR my absences and sudden disappearances from work. We opted this would be better and I’m handling almost all Raymond works, I’m not taking any other clients” I returned to the living room and walked to the front door, Samar following behind me.

“Test him” she said once I open the door “Ressler I mean. If you’re not convinced he has a problem, test him”

Test him how? She turned around and left my apartment, taking the stairs and getting out of sight just as the elevator doors opened and Don came out of them, cups in once hand a a bag from the other.

I smiled and saw him inside,closing the door after him.

“You don’t look just like you just woken up”

“Because I hadn’t” I took my coffee and sat down next to him in the dinning table. “You know Samar right?”

“Navabi?” He asked taking his own “yeah, I do”

“Well… So do I. Raymond as well, he’s asked her to teach me some self defense stuff, and for the last three weeks we have.” I showed him my red wrists “today she hand cuffed me and had me lockpick my way out”

He took my hands in his and turned them around, running his thumbs on my sore wrists

“How long did it took you?”

“The fastest I did it was two minutes” he gave me a surprise look.

“Impressive. She hasn’t taught you the real move has she?” He pulled out his own handcuffs from the hook of his belt.

“Of course not”

I cuffed himself, only one hand and made me look, he grabbed a paperclip I had hanging around some papers and positioned it.

“In this curve here” he inserted the clip and made a little movement “the latch is usually in the upper right curve. You have to find it, push and turn downwards”

He did just that and the cuff clicked, he took it out and it was my time to give him a surprised twist of eyebrows.

“Awesome” I commented and looked at the bag. While I rummaged through it to find the kind of muffin I liked I saw him pull out his bottle of pills.

“What’s that?” I asked, trying not to sound as alarmed as I felt. I had never seen him take the pills right in front of me.

“The pain killers I was prescribed” he excused himself, downed the pills and chugged them down with the coffee.

“You still take them? Your leg thing has been almost a year ago. If it still hurts you should go to a doctor”

He gave me a grimace and a little eye roll.

“It’s not just the leg, I’ve been getting physical at work lately.”

“Well, still, you might have pulled a muscle or tore something” he gave me a little smile and finished his coffee.

“I’m fine Mags, it’s just the perils of work”

I nodded, and let the subject go. He began talking about the case they took a week ago and expressed his concerns about Liz. As far as I’ve been told she’s not living at her place, she’s been hiding a lot, Raymond has a tail on her. He thinks she’s keeping something from him.

I told him that once you know your whole reality was a scam of course she was going to be paranoid and distrustful to people. But I agreed, she had to go back to normal.

After our breakfast Don left and I didn’t saw him for two days, he was working on a case that had something to do with a pandemic, luckily Samar had taken the case with Liz in the field and he stood behind.

He came around my house on night and I took Samar’s advice, planted a pill bottle filled with pain killer placebo and left it in the medicine cabinet of my bathroom.

We talked and laughed about whatever for the rest of the night, it was a normal night of two friends hanging out.

My heart sunk when I went to the bathroom and the pill bottle was three quarters empty.

I had to sit down at the toilet sit and take a deep breath.

I had gone through this with my dad. It was always just a little more, a little more of morphine to get him through the pain of chemo and being bedridden. With Don it was just one more pill to numb himself, he was still hurting for Audrey’s death and if it didn’t stop now he would ruin himself.

The placebo pills would get him more destabilized and he would have to seek for help, unless his addiction sinks him.

I couldn’t go back to our normal friend gathering after I left the bathroom. We were waiting for the pizza delivery and he was sitting in my couch looking for something interesting on Netflix.

I wanted to punch him, to make him tell me the truth, to be weak for once an accept his mistake. But there he was, as if nothing had happened, as if he hasn’t stole pills from me. They were fake, sure. But how many times had he done it in the past?

“We should start season 2 of Breaking Bad” he said when he found it. Of course I had seen it but he hadn’t, it was my chance to relive it again and I loved to see his face when he surprised himself with the plot twists.

I sat down next to him, looking at him worried. I was hating the fact that he acted so nonchalantly at this whole deal.

He looked at me and frowned.

“You OK?”

“Yeah” I lied and looked at the TV. “It’s just that…” I looked at my hands, being squeezed by eachother. “You know that you can talk to me about… You know, if you’re still sad fror Audrey or…”

He gave me a little twist of his eyebrows and lifted his arm up to hold me by the shoulders

“I’m fine Mags. I promise”